Coronavirus in bloom

Truth needs to be.

The Coronavirus is unsettling.

Day to day life is being affected.

I won’t ignore it.

Neither will my friend, Ana, an EU citizen, and author. “Frustrated at myself for feeling so powerless. Frustrated at us as a nation for reacting the way we apparently are.”

https://analindenblog.wordpress.com/2020/03/13/that-mandatory-coronavirus-post-my-two-cents-and-the-ugliness-in-us/

Read on. It’s good for the brain.

Matt

Poem – To Be

I believe in the rush of a golden sunrise;
first the tips of the evergreens brighten, along
with the oaks and the maples that are tall and full
of wisdom, then slowly climbing its way down
along the horizon until finally reaching earth’s
padded forest floor where I stand waiting to be
among the showering brilliance of light with its
warmth and comfort, baiting me to accept what
the day may bring, or what I might make of it,
and willingly with a comfortable confidence, I do.

-M. Taggart

 

To be happy

I’ve watched restrictions of success cripple people. And couples. Standards ripped them apart. They are left with .5 children and 50% parenting access. All for the glass ceiling. I hope to never forget it’s the simple things that matter most. Being there to see Gavin sit on Megan’s lap while watching a movie. Getting up early to make coffee. Waiting to hear my two hearts come down stairs. “Daddy!” His feet patter at me.
“Morning, Honey.” Her long dark hair is a ruffled mess and it’s incredibly attractive.
It’s the simple things. It really doesn’t take much to make me happy. It never has.

Matt

I hope everyone has a good day.

poem – why, are you.

Bukowski just called, told me he didn’t
want to talk and hung up.
Hemingway is in the barroom drinking
whiskey from a half gone bottle, cleaning
a rifle. Not caring who just called.
Vonnegut is on the porch smoking
cigarettes while looking at a dead
raccoon in the road and repeating, “so it goes.”
Steinbeck is petting Charlie in the living
room. Calm. Collected. Ready to go.
Emily is standing silently at the top of the stairs.
Frost is outside beckoning for everyone
to join him. It’s beginning to snow.
I’m sitting alone with my family wondering
who these people think they are.

-M. Taggart
copyright 2018
Thanks for reading

Reminder

I’m writing a new book. I’ve noticed I’ve paused in the writing of it. Though, not for lack of material. I’ve plenty of that. It’s because it’s too important to get this right. I want to write so well it can’t go unnoticed. And to rush it, would be to ruin it. I’ve done that before. I need to remember the only rules to the writing of this book are the ones I place within myself.

Thanks for reading. I have snippets of time to publish poems on this platform, write the book, and comment back. So please, for me, have some fun today, and a drink (even juice) so you can mentally cheers me. I’ll need the push! Next spring we build our new house. A long time dream finally coming to fruition.

Matt

p.s. Most of my time is happily placed exactly where it ought to be.

IMG_1597

Brillaint Blue

IMG_2708

Come Now Sun – A Poem

it’s early morning
broken leaves are crying again
let us find them

in this violence ‘they’ play
begging crowds to act
until the sun finally does shine

hiding in the wooded darkness
pressing for the crumbling of all veins
hoping for the chaotic and exacting destruction
that’s been asked to be created under our feet

Come Now Sun
flood the broken leaves
and melt the ones
who’ve pushed them into being

-M. Taggart
copyright 2017

Thank you for reading. Cheers.