poem

and the vision tunneled
much like how it does at night
eyes closed, mind open

-M. Taggart

Poem

It’s amazing-
that we can ignore
our higher-self

-M. Taggart

Poem

The other side of my thought
was better than me
and I’m fine with that

-M. Taggart

Climax

Does individual thought-
never shared
Matter more
than thoughts shared
on AI such as FB, Insta, Twitter,

etc

I guess we’ll find out

-M. Taggart

Poem

On the other side of thought
sits where it came from

And in the middle-
are white picket fences
rows and rows of them

One thought
escaped
and then there were woods
and woods
and woods

-M. Taggart

Pros

What if we’re on replay

-M. Taggart

poem

Sometimes you can reach for a thought-
much like finding yourself

-M. Taggart

The capital city of thought

My treehouse with a thumb
talks with an image less than itself.
It mesmerizes mischief with Mayhem,
like a tree watching its own growth
on a ledge. Waterfall below. Thoughts
in between. Taking longer than expected,
the zipper of life made for a humble tremble.

-M. Taggart

Stick-to-it-iveness identity?

And old thought can try
to twist and bend itself
into a new thought.
Sometimes it works,
but mostly it sticks out.

-M. Taggart

Possible?

I wonder if a bird
cares about the loss of a tree.

-M. Taggart