Do you dream this too?

I can’t be the only one having these dreams. I was standing on a bluff a few hundred feet above the ocean. The approaching wave was  level with my head. The wave behind that was trying to block the sun. The people on the beach below are oblivious. No one ran. In this dream there was a mountain behind me. -I can’t be the only one.


Twenty plus years for me.

Rogue Truth

Now I am going to read a word-
The first letter is a snake
The second is a line with three more lines
The third is a line with a foot
The fourth is much like the second
but with one and half less lines-
I remember sitting on the beach in Westerly, RI
It was October
The wind was cold, the ocean was grey
I sat with my back against boulders
with the distinct feeling that I needed to leave
I had the ridiculous thought that the ocean wanted me
for something I couldn’t come back from
I corrected myself
An ocean is not alive and cannot think about this
Yet, the foam from the last wave tried to touch my feet
I pulled them closer to my sitting body
I was alone on the beach
I thought of how it might be for a rogue wave to snatch
me, dragging me to an emptiness that is real
and I thought of how I would be the only one to know-
The ocean looked more aggressive than when I had first sat
The waves seemed to be larger, gathering
I swatted away the feeling of realism pinching at the back of my neck
I am a selfish me thinking alone on a beach
that an ocean would care enough to snatch and drag me anywhere
while needing to note, internally, that I was alone and no one would know
except the grey ocean and large waves with foam-
I needed to feel something in my hands and ignore what wasn’t happening
A splintered rock helped me to carve a word into a boulder
A word that without meaning would mean anything I could possibly want it to mean
without being told, or guided, or scolded into what it was
No, this word was mine and I chose to let it be mine without permission-
I saw a dark horizontal line out in the ocean, a bulge almost. Was that a wave?
My heart quickened. I needed to leave.
I started walking, waves now reached my feet with ease, I pushed
further up onto the beach, the waves came for me
The dark line was closer
I ran
SELF is a blundering epiphany

Now I’m going to read another word.

-M. Taggart


death as it stands

Death has a sound unlike any other-
listen! The same melody plays in the early hours
We know this song

Let Prometheus spark again-
a sip of fine wine
a bit of our favorite scotch
a taste from the most velvet soft lips
the scent of the back of her neck
26.2188 with delivery
this is true
this Is true
but who am I to ask

Death is more than a balcony’s plot from which we grieve. Death is not evil. An echo inside spewing a self-made matrix without end. Have we touched the sun today. Have we given thought to the mirror behind. So many rules to place our hearts on shelves.

for others to dismantle.

Death as it stands
has a sound like no other
and yet I’ve never heard it

My favorite cigar is the one left overnight in the rain. The next morning it’s billowed with intelligence. A thing to know. It’s more wet than not. and it doesn’t want to dry, but it does because. Eventually the sun reminds the cigar of its now and we are again reunited. I’ll take my life left to light that cigar and see it live again.


  • M. Taggart

Calm Before the Storm – Odd Walking Thoughts

Its eeiry presence was as calm as anything I’d ever seen. Nothing moved. There was no wind. The leaves on the trees hung lifeless. Yet, there was mist which hovered in place. But when you looked away and back again it had surely shifted. And it was quiet. Too quiet. The lack of rustling leaves from the usually active squirrels was noticed, but the unnerving part was that the birds were not chirping. They weren’t even flying. And it hit. For over twenty-four hours the hurricane was a constant being.

-M. Taggart

Memory of the morning Hurricane Irene hit the coast of Rhode Island.