Odd Walking Thoughts –

This morning may bring you rain. While you’re just leaving your door, it’s possible you’ll be drenched before you reach your first end to your second step. Within that last drop, which qualifies you to be considered drenched for certain, you’ll possibly not, or might, notice that you are, fully drenched. Either way, it was one drop, among all drops, that pushed your person to where you are drenched. If this is the case and you realize anything about it, you are abnormal and for that the drop thanks you.

-M. Taggart

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Odd Walking Thoughts

Off my heart came a time with no bending. Timeless are the images that walk with me; down the hallway, to the right, into the bathroom, pull the drawer out because the lock wasn’t enough, and that’s how it was from the stench of the mud to the top of where I now sit, knowing it’s never over.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – Brilliant Emily

Emily Dickinson wrote a line that is currently stuck at the front of my thoughts. It’s as if the thought is a shape and it’ll not come out unless otherwise known to not have been; or to be? Either way it’s a shape. Possible ever changing. All about a thought and how words and thought don’t need to coexist every day. Don’t we though? Live on, please, and look outside your window, once again handing poems down to the children; having never been inside? I lived near your house, Emily. I don’t know that I didn’t feel your presence, but I do know that’s it’s possible. And my thoughts, with their words, thank you.

-M. Taggart

Emily D

Odd Walking Thoughts – Scribble

A twisted scribble stood from its page. Straightening itself halfway while leaving the rest, still wanting to be original. “Hush,” said the paper, “you’ll awaken the observation of the mind.” “This is fine. The mind created me.” Replied the scribble.

-M. Taggart
copyright 2018

 

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

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Odd Walking Thoughts

There are only so many windowsills we can chew on while waiting for our fathers and mothers to care about us. Walk a mile into the woods and find where the leaves placed themselves for us to turn over. -Walk back to the same sill twenty-five years later and ask yourself if you’d rather care about who you wanted to care about you, or if you’d like to again walk a mile into the woods to find a few more leaves.

-M. Taggart

copyright 2018

Odd Walking Thoughts

A young boy sat on a stump. He closed his eyes counting numbers. Having found seven of them he opened his eyes and was home. His mother was crying. His father was not. He closed his eyes again and found a stone to skip. “Can I have the stone again?” The stone was taken by the water.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – No secrets in this room.

It was found in the hallway of a small home that the original insanity within the abuser’s mind was not as deeply disturbed as the tortured. Delicious was this new found possession of force dripping from our knuckles. -Have we really ventured back, or have we stayed; seeing from tops of trees on a clear day is never compared to seeing too many eyes telling how sick they truly are. They all speak with the same cadence until we break them. There will be no secrets in this room.

-M. Taggart
Copyright 2018

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

Memories

It’s hard keeping memories. They don’t always like us and sometimes
they are alive and know they are and when we don’t let them be they
then decide they’ll not let us be, so we twist and turn them around trying
to make them be what we needed them to be from the very beginning.

 

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

Laugh on brittle stick. Leaves puddle themselves with veins. We step on both of you without knowing which will snap first. A boy walks alone scrapping his knees on thought. He finds a mushroom with an additional head. ‘Can’t you think twice as much as the others?’ He stomped the mushroom, smearing life from the bottom of his boot to mud. ‘That wasn’t the way to know.’ A frog reported. ‘That wasn’t it at all.’ The boy looked toward the frog, ‘What do you mean?’ ‘A shameful look is what you’ll now wear, that mushroom just had a child. Alone. The mushroom grew another form to represent both sides, even though one had gone, and now you’ve not only removed that mold you’ve removed both. The child is more alone now than before it had been given the gift of life.’
-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

It’s time to let sit what sits and watch. Memories comb our nerves while our sitting becomes lack thereof. A someone views a chair that moves at will upon two legs. They think about how eleven is only two lines standing next to one another, yet no one seems to notice. So they allow the chair to continue on. The chair is searching for a name while the walk of confidence has not ended.

-M. Taggart