The 8-Year-Old, Writer.

Gavin is having a bit of an issue with his writing teacher.

It’s troubling him. He feels dread when thinking bout this class. Apparently his teacher yells.

His teacher is on him about sentence structure and how to create an introduction, followed by chapters, followed by chapters, followed by perfect mR and Msr’s. Eh.

Followed by a conclusion.

Gavin has an imagination abundant in, Everything. He’s brave. He’s stealth mixed with clever-wit. He speaks with great annunciation and kindness. Gavin is at his best when he’s allowed, well, to be himself. He’s not being allowed to use his imagination. Thank God he told us about how he’s feeling and how crushed his writing and spirit has become.

Thankfully, I may, or may not, know at least one thing about writing 🙂

I will not let a school setting destroy the Gift that Gavin has within his mind, heart, and soul. I’m not saying his teacher is a bad teacher- not at all. But I know when he needs me to jump in and help bring the joy back to where it belongs.

Writing should fill his soul. Not empty it.

Imma teach him to break the rules, just a little bit, to help them come to a compromise of minds lol

I, for one, would much rather read about a lion riding on the back of a dragon who contains the ability to speak in dragon tongue and announce when to unleash the raging fire!!! Rather than, the cat jumped over the mouse. The mouse ran. So fast. So. So fast.

I don’t even care if his 8-year-old-self misspells each word: bring on that dragon raging fire with the lion standing on it’s back yielding tangled tongues that shred the thunderous skies!!

I can’t wait for Gavin to get home.

Cheers everyone!!!

Matt

🙂

ps- He’s 8. He’s already written two books. Self illustrated too! His teacher hasn’t seen them. We should fix that.

It’s gonna be OK

Just in case you need to hear this,
You are enough.

Maybe there’s no one near to you to say this, so I am.

I know how it feels to climb inside and feel alone while standing in a packed room. And if someone is killing your mindset with a million slices, go find a mirror and tell yourself that you are enough. Because you are. Look in the mirror and repeat it over and over. “I am enough.”

We all have these moments in life where it feels like torture. I’ve been through multiple versions of this. I always knew it would be ok. But, even while knowing that, it didn’t always help. The OK part sometimes doesn’t come for a while.

It’s gonna be OK. I hope you start with the mirror because the easiest person to lie to is yourself. Start there. Build what you need via truth. The mirror can not lie unless you tell it to.

-Matt

Be on, always again #poem

Talent finds her mouth
looking for soul
lost within failed
resource of support

She whispered to herself
‘Don’t we all.’

None said anything,
and walked away

Tomorrow will see me
again

-M. Taggart

Poem – The Other

It’s gone. The other took it.

I turn the TV off.
Move a few toys

This is the only place I have to be me

Thank you God.

My son wakes up every morning
I get to see him laugh when I enter his room.
I pluck him from his crib. I love this.

I bring him downstairs, step over the playpen wall, put him down.
He runs to the couch and bounces onto it.

In this room, with my son and his toys, I am here. Only here.

My son has a slide in the playpen area. Which, is our living room.
His mother got it for him. And maybe for me too.

Have you ever seen a crying angel in cement?
When the other comes we know we have and we weep.

 

-M. Taggart

 

Originally written on 6/5/17. This poem is personal.

poem

Most days I’m fine.
Tonight I am not well.
And I can feel it. Slithering.
Void. In my face I hold
absent emotions.

-M. Taggart

WordPress – The Final Frontier

Occasionally I receive emails from fellow bloggers. I find it heartwarming. When I nearly lost Megan, a number of you reached out to me. The support I was given by my peers within this WordPress platform was touching and I needed it.

I have no choice but to write. If I don’t, I am not well. My first post on WordPress was this, “Test.” I clicked publish. I literally had zero clue what WordPress was, or what would happen. I was shocked when a few people ‘liked’ that first post. I didn’t realize it was actually ‘live’ and viewable, not just on WordPress, but for the entire internet world.

After the first year of writing on here, I happily admit that I had this thought, “To what end?” I asked myself what was the point of doing this. I thought about this for a few weeks and the answer became very clear. I write for myself. I need to write. And I’m massively thankful for WordPress. I use the ‘free’ version and it has produced astonishing results. I’ve connected with friends from around the world who helped support me through family hardship, publishers have researched my blog and invited me to submit to them, and I learned that apparently I write poetry.

If you are new to blogging and are asking similar questions about the purpose, I hope this helps. It’s not just worth your time, it’s part of your life. Just keep going. Even if you post something and receive zero feedback, likes, follows, etc. That’s happened to all of us. And at the end of the day, that’s OK too. Especially when you’re writing for yourself.

Cheers everyone, and seriously, thank you for being with me.

Matt

Contact:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/contact/

 

Odd Walking Thoughts – A New Well

The view spanned portions of three states. You could see the opposite mountain range, and the valleys in between. You could even see the river with the sun shimmering off its surface, if you wanted to. He came to this spot to find peace. Instead his head raced in circles as he looked down at his boots. “No matter where I am, this follows me.” The wind blew and with the rustling of the leaves it spoke, “Every thought is its own well. And the negative ones tend to swirl in circles on the way down. It’s time to look up and create a new well facing in a direction other than down.”

 

Every thought is its own well
And the negative ones
Tend to swirl in circles
On the way down

-M. Taggart

Contact:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/contact/

About:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/m-taggart/

 

Poem

Who referees abuse
No one
Unless you speak out

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – Mind Games

I play tricks with leaves outside my window. I trick them into being what I want them to be and when they’ve finally made me realize they’ll only be what they are I see them turn over for the wind- While I climb into myself looking for the same things I’ve always looked for. At times I find what I’m looking for and promise to remember, but I forget and need to start all over again with new leaves, on new days with sun pouring, or rain landing outside on the dirt below- I can stand here by myself, or I can fly outside with all of them, as long as I at least look out the window and trick myself into something I can be.

-M. Taggart

 

Published Work:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/my-book/

Poem-

Sometimes memories are like metal fans.
With each blade sharpened-
They aren’t beckoning you
They are pushing you away-
When you reach for them
You are cut, again-
Leaving you reeling
Running from closet to bedsheets
to where you no longer
own your memories

-M. Taggart