I smoked a cigar today
The sun split me in two

Dark. Not dark.

When I was young I fished brook trout

I wasn’t very good

Mostly Chris caught them
and our mother would sometimes prepare them to eat

I remember one time
She took the tinfoil from the freezer
and put the frozen trout on the skillet

I didn’t want to eat it

Which way I lean my head
is where I’m split

It’s funny how this all happens

-M. Taggart


On the other side of thought
sits where it came from

And in the middle-
are white picket fences
rows and rows of them

One thought
and then there were woods
and woods
and woods

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

It was a different version of today without tomorrow, yesterday was gone too. Leaving a something option. “Gravity,” he said, “is used in ways we don’t understand; holding and un-holding themselves exactly where they want to be while everything else moves.” To conceal is to prove a whisper can turn to life. The holding of time isn’t a hand.

-M. Taggart


And to think it could have been

And just like how you thought it would be,
it was.

And the oak fell with the most delicate calculation,
given by the softness of the pushing wind,
and came to be with a thud where it is now.
The wind took its leave and was never seen again;
only remembered by the one who had first
seen how it could be.

And even if told to another
it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because it was
and it didn’t.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

whispers became screams never said. shower doors, with soap, and windows, watched. the door didn’t shut, and the did, did nothing, while the smiling whores of everything told of how to hush. things were done while walls stood vacant, birds of the morning sang, and heaven hung low.  -M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts –

Felt a few twitches. Came in a row. Finally, after the last woke our thought process to understand other things were happening, we did realize it had happened. And it’s here, with a yawning moment of veneration for afterthought, come and gone again in a backward way, we asked, “will we be able to ….again” and it turns out so. Give no boundaries to a repeating thought.

-M. Taggart

My poem ‘Here’ published by Literary Yard

I’m thrilled to share with everyone that my poem ‘Here’ has literally just been published, only moments ago, on Literary Yard.

Read the poem  here:


A big thank you to Onkar Sharma for accepting this piece. This style of poetry is unorthodox and is my self taught style. I’m impressed with Literary Yard for picking this up.


A piece of mind is a funny thing
flecking out among the trees

Somewhere we leave a laugh
looking for a smile”

Read the entire poem here: