The great thing about honesty is that is never changes.
-M. Taggart
Tag: See
three lines
We are death while alive
sipping on imagination
not always our own
-M. Taggart
three lines – poem
We’re not here for nothing-
This is the paradox of life
Don’t you see-
-M. Taggart copyright 2017
odd walking thoughts – can’t come in
Doors that won’t lock and steam that rises not enough. A smile pressed upon the see through door. What happens when a nothing of a thought dies. Begging to begin again with the same thought. Asking again with the same question. Can I come in. Still is the heart that sees.
-M. Taggart
ode to-
Let’s breathe this vision-
Tomorrow will be an armored beast
as we dine on our dripping walls
**
-M. Taggart
copyright 2017
Odd Walking Thoughts – Don’t keep
We walk into the shadow of death to pull one wounded child from its depths, to find another daft man standing in the corner. Leaves are shuffling outside my window. A man with a golden heart is gone. Another stands in a room looking. Don’t block me. I am here and at least I have my fingers. The man in the room standing, looking daft, asks for silence because silences never questions. Never says a damn word. The girl with the golden brow would have cared for a word. And the boy with the covers pulled tight would have cared for the same.
**
copyright 2017
-M. Taggart
Odd Walking Thoughts
Fill the bags. Fill them all. Tell them not to talk. Take a walk with me. Hold my hand. It is dark. The purple has spoken in our face with breath of beer. Hide our forehead. Hold my hand. Out our bedroom door is the hallway. This hallway is different. It has holes. The bathroom is more different than the hallway. The holes in the bathroom have eyes.
-M. Taggart
Copyright 2017
poem –
a promise is stenched forward so sweetly
only the smallest crevices nearest the screaming eyes
tell the truth of the lies they keep
-M. Taggart
copyright 2017
Fuck you bird
Fuck you bird. You’re on my leaf.
We compromised
and the bird took the leaf.
I smoked my cigar
wanting to know more about the bird.
After he took my leaf I watched him fly into the trees
That bird made a lot of noise in those trees
with my leaf
I let the smoke engulf my face
while I thought about why I cared
about the bird and life and race and black and white
Have the leaf
it wasn’t really mine
The bird was a cardinal.
-M. Taggart
copyright 2017
A Poem
it’s time-
crushing ribs while spittle irrupts-
speak truth loved ones
the hand tore away jaw, throat, vision-
a cloud becomes us all
while we search
-M. Taggart
