Odd Walking Thoughts

Walk in the woods. Hug an anything. Don’t read the news. Have a beer. Whiskey, fish, work hard, tell someone they look good with their beard, tell another they look good without. Isn’t it easy when we let it be. Sit in your favorite spot and tell your mind no, then yes, because it’s finally time to read. Tell the ones telling, no. You know the no I write of. You created it and it’s waiting to be used. It’s not all metal sheep. It’s only partially all with which we’ve created- a portion of the sheep. But never, listen, to, the, sheep. Tell a thing it isn’t.

**

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – The Play

‘People detest truth. They keep it at arms length at all times. And don’t dare speak it to them! If you do, you’ll be cast into the murky shadows with the worthless gossips they’ve known their entire lives. They’ll kick you repeatedly while you pick up pieces of shattered truth in hopes to again polish and present. They will use the best known methods of destruction to keep you from telling them anything. Even of a good day. -With that, good luck to you, truth keepers, and tellers. Because it’s rather true..of course, that to argue with stupid isn’t an easy thing. Keep the pieces for yourself and only show the ones who’ve proven worthy of knowing. And for the love of God Stop pushing at the door that’s always closed.’ -Thy boy stood away from his mirror having done his best. The play was tomorrow. He was ready.

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.

Odd Walking Thoughts – The Beetle Does Walk

And the beetle walks. The spit drops onto the square patch of earth. We smile nice for the spider. Thorn bushes lined the edge of the field. We pushed through best we could but became stuck near the spiders large web. ‘Haven’t you time to discuss?’ asked the spider. ‘We’ve just seen the beetle.’ we replied.  ‘Have you now? It’s not possible.’ We paused at the spiders untruth. ‘Certainly we did see the beetle. Soon the beetle will be near your web.’ ‘Nonsense, there aren’t any beetles and we all know this.  You included.’ The thorns dug into our hips and elbows pushing us nearer the web. ‘You mean our memories are not of a beetle we’ve seen and to replace it with another?’ we asked the spider? ‘There is no beetle.’ said the spider. ‘But what if we insist there was a beetle?’ we asked. The thorns gripped and yanked then pushed.

The Cigar and Wine went well.

Goose Shit- A True Story

Goose shit was everywhere.  When looking down, at your feet, you saw shit.  If you looked to your left, shit.  Right, shit.  Alright, that’s complete exaggeration and a lie, but, now we all know I’m talking about a lot of shit.  The rest of this story is true.

We were at our parents’ friend’s home; it was a farm.  Fences; wooden fences with lots of barbed wire to keep animals tucked inside the property.  We kids, liked to play next to the large oak tree with the tire swing.

I was six.  My brother was eight and a half.  The tire swing was wide open and we weren’t about to let the opportunity slide on by.  Our parents were inside, doing things, and laughing far too loud for the jokes that were being shared.  Our parents’ friends had two girls.   Both were near our age.

The oak tree wasn’t far from the house.  Sitting on top of a small hill, overlooking the property, there it hung.  The swing of all tires swings.

The one small issue, between us and the tire swing, was the geese.

I know we all see them flying South, or North, apparently never being able to make up their minds; proving they’re not consistent within the walls of their own skulls.

Anyways, to the swing we mother-fucking-go!

My brother and I charge the hill.  Well, we didn’t exactly charge it, I certainly didn’t.  He may have.  He was much bigger.  It’s possible that in my head, I charged the fuck out of that hill, but in all honesty, I probably waddled a bit and barely make it to the tire swing.  Walking in goose shit.

Which, made me easy prey, for the asshole Geese.

They watched, with dick head eyes, and we took notice, but not to a great degree.  My brother was nice enough to let me jump on the swing first.  I was in tire swing heaven. I’d like to say he even pushed me, but that, I don’t remember.

So there I was, swinging, things are great.  Ice cream great.  I can see the house, down below, and the fences that line the property.  I can see horses and a few sheep.  I’m not sure how my parents know these people, but I don’t care because I’m on a tire swing and I’m a six year old.

My brother said it was his turn, so I jumped off, slid a bit, and came to a stop.  I turn to look back at him and I see an asshole running at me.   I don’t wait to see how fast it might catch me, I turn and run.  I’m running, with everything I’ve got, which was a far cry better than my charge up the hill, but it wasn’t enough.  I know a monster bird is behind me, I can hear it, I can even smell it.  I slip, fall, and slide in goose shit.  Probably from this very bird.  It’s laughing at me.  No, not really, I’m not sure if birds can laugh.

The large man of prey is nearly upon me, it’s biting and flicking it’s wings.  No joke, I get bit.  The asshole nipped me and I slid further down the shit hill.  My jeans are a waste.  Even at six I realize I should probably not continue wearing these.  My face was now sliding down the hill, I was tasting it.  It wasn’t good.

My face looked like that of a war-time Marine.  As though I had meant this to have happened.

I was bit again and now the large bird was tearing into me, stabbing at me with it’s beak.  I cried out.

I saw my big brother snap that asshole by its long neck, wringing the beast slightly, and tossing it out and away from me.   The bird let lose a vocal note that’s not always witnessed coming from a goose and then I watched my brother chase it, further, away from me.

He saved me.  I wasn’t the last time.

Yes, I had to go inside and cry-explain myself to my laughing parents and yes I had to take off my shit jeans and replace them with girl jeans.  Yes.  That all happened.  To this day I’m still ashamed to tell people that I wore girl jeans.  It just wasn’t right.  But, my brother saving me was.

Thanks Chris.

True occurrence- my childhood.  Thank you Big Brother.