Be Different

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As other were- I have not seen
As other saw- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring-

Edgar Allan Poe, ‘Alone’

I revisit this poem often. And as many before have claimed, poetry changes. The same lines which once meant one thing, now mean another. Life experience. Happiness. Depression. A solid hangover. Sobriety. Solidarity. The Hand of God.

I don’t much care for the thought of being benchmarked. In HS I refused to take the Grand Ole Test at the end of Senior Year to determine my future. ‘Ah! You belong at Harvard! But you! You belong in the streets sweeping Harvard!” Nah, those benchmarks were made by brains that don’t fit my non-squared process of being. So, I did my own thing. And things have turned out rather well.

One of the reasons I read Poe’s poem ‘Alone’ so often is that it reminds me, very clearly, how different Poe felt from his peers. I think many of us feel this way at times, and it’s OK.

Oh! I hit the weights for the first time since my injury. I kept it light and all is good! The scar is on the inside of my elbow bend. An odd place because of all of the movement needed to utilize an arm. I’ve held off on uploading a photo…I don’t know how many of my friends on here actually want to see that lol.

And ps, I’ve been that guy sweeping the street. There’s a reason I had a smile on my face.

Matt

Diluted #Poem

I’ve not seen anything built so strongly as
the crushing greyness of the waning
winter hours. As though the great gurgling
of Spring is hushed by a diluted punishing
lack of light; the voice of time had very little
left, and all of us feeling its weight,
are tightly packed into our seclusions searching
through the greyness for the smallest of exits.

-M. Taggart

Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe

photo taken 3/5/21

Edgar Allan Poe, ‘Alone’

“From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were- I have not seen
As others saw- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring-”

Edgar Allan Poe, ‘Alone’

I didn’t start that way for me. It turned that way
with time and experience. I often revisit these words
as a reminder of when and how.

Cheers,

Matt

Need to add this- Not the ‘alone’ portion..that’s not me
at all. More so the pulling my passion(s) from an uncommon
spring. I can literally drift on a river for hours and watch
the water, or the wind, and be filled. I do not feel alone. I should
have expressed that initially. I’m incredibly social and have
friends all over the country..even have the same childhood friends.
Anyway..enjoy your day.

The good and the Grand

In my opinion Emily Dickinson is a female version of Edgar Allan Poe. Of which both I am a sincere fan. The dictionary is never far when I read their works.

A few lines from ‘The Sleeper’ -E.A. Poe ( Born Jan 19th 1809 – Died Oct 7 1849 )

‘In childhood, many an idle stone-
Some tomb from out whose sounding door
She ne’er shall force an echo more,
Thrilling to think, poor child of sin !
It was the dead who groaned within.’

***

A few lines from ‘Because I could not stop for Death’  – Emily Dickinson ( Born Dec 10 1830 – Died May 15 1847 )

‘Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –’

****

 

Cheers

Matt