Poem- To be seen

I’m looking at a picture of us
I didn’t like it at the time
There was something too real-
I felt ugly about it
But now I love it
You were trying to tell me something
And now that you don’t want to be seen
I’ve figured it out in the photo
While I was off mentally having fun
You were telling me you loved me
and that you were sick
They say a picture says a thousand words
What about emotions

-M. Taggart

Poem- And then, more.

I like to sit and do nothing.
I Stare at the walls.
Or, close my eyes and stare
at an image I don’t know,
given to me by something
I don’t understand,
mixed with emotions
that aren’t mine.
Sometimes I open my
eyes to see the same walls
that have always been there.
But then, I close my eyes again.

-M. Taggart


Indignation is no trip to solidarity.
No prized, or treasured fellowship,
while fixed on the wayward ego-
Into the wind we go, where there’s
an unending expanse to listen if willing.

-M. Taggart

I struggle with titles. If you have one for this, I’d like to hear from you.

poem – voice of a

Empathy is not a sport.
It doesn’t come a little at a time-

Yelling out the window at
homeless people begging for
money is a game played by
control freaks of the world.

“Mommy. What was that angry
man doing to that sad man on the street?”

“Widening the divide. Some people
are dark in the places where they
should be light but they like the dark more.”

“I don’t like that. I don’t want to like the dark more.”

“Don’t worry. You feel too well for that.”

He winced as the window rolled down. But, this time,
a little voice filled with hope filled his uneasy mind.

-M. Taggart