you cannot be me

I breathe in a chamber of self
and spit when done
My selves cannot be me

-M. Taggart

 

Intrepid truth

An intrepid vision came to be
as fragments of understanding flamed into full knowing
Watch the depths of each mirror inch closer, see as we see as they see

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – It’s now. Go

Shaking his face at his door, the boy screamed a terrible scream deep within his heart; with a crushing idiom only memories speak with. Please, no. Footsteps. The door knob turns. It’s nighttime. He opens his window, and lashes the darkness with his legs. They’ll never know me again. I was never home. -A lightning bug flashed. I see you. I’m coming.

-M. Taggart

copyright 2018

Odd Walking Thoughts

A time on a Wednesday wasn’t what we knew. Filing mindsets. Can you get up now. Can you piss. Can you speak. It is Wednesday. The wall gripped itself and ran down to the floor. We hadn’t seen that. -Somewhere the sun shines, smiling, like they ask for. Smiling at all of you. Smiling.

-M. Taggart

 

An honest is an honest does

The great thing about honesty is that is never changes.

 

-M. Taggart

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