poem-

I remember telling her, “We’re dating now.”
She cried
She was drinking wine
I was drinking a Manhattan
in a restaurant over looking the common
in Mystic, Connecticut
I remember she stood to hug me
tears all over
clasping her hands over her mouth.
What kind of asshole was I?
We’re dating now?
I was lucky to be sitting with her
Lucky to even know her
I was that fucked up
I didn’t know how to love
I’m better at it now
Thanks to her
And I hope she
adores this poem-
Megan is the mother
of our son.
God-
I love her

-M. Taggart

death as it stands

Death has a sound unlike any other-
listen! The same melody plays in the early hours
We know this song

Let Prometheus spark again-
a sip of fine wine
a bit of our favorite scotch
a taste from the most velvet soft lips
the scent of the back of her neck
26.2188 with delivery
this is true
this Is true
but who am I to ask

Death is more than a balcony’s plot from which we grieve. Death is not evil. An echo inside spewing a self-made matrix without end. Have we touched the sun today. Have we given thought to the mirror behind. So many rules to place our hearts on shelves.

for others to dismantle.

Death as it stands
has a sound like no other
and yet I’ve never heard it

My favorite cigar is the one left overnight in the rain. The next morning it’s billowed with intelligence. A thing to know. It’s more wet than not. and it doesn’t want to dry, but it does because. Eventually the sun reminds the cigar of its now and we are again reunited. I’ll take my life left to light that cigar and see it live again.

 

  • M. Taggart

Merry Christmas

Smash a beer tonight. Or take a long pull of wine. Have a cigar. Hug your sister. Your mother. Your son. Your dog. Hug the toilet. It’s O.K. to be you. Tell your wife you love her. If she isn’t listening, tell her again. Tell the man with the beard that he has a nice beard. Ask how long it took to grow. It’s Christmas. Tell your footprints you haven’t forgotten, but that you need to move on. Nothing ever stops being tomorrow.

Merry Christmas.

 

Matt.

A Pub Walk – New England Pubs

I enjoy pubs. I enjoy reading. I combined them and learned I am addicted to reading while at pubs. Listening to the drone of public speak, mixed with arguments or laughter, I’ve found a gem of solitude and happiness. I have even met great friends.

In New England we have a number of hidden pubs. When asked how to get to one of these gems, some might answer, ‘You can’t get there from here.’

First, The Book Mill. Seated on the bank of a river in Montague, MA. Before this converted mill housed a pub (The Lady Killigrew Cafe), my brother and I would walk this river and watch our father fish for trout. Get there early and grab a seat overlooking the river. Outside seating overlooking moving water stirs imagination. Go here. They have good beer and oddly enough good rice. There’s even a bookstore next door.

Outside Brew

bookmill1

 

Next up- The BridgeSide Grill, Sunderland, MA. Ah, Yes! I cannot write this without mentioning some good friends. I would embarrassingly stay at this cozy family friendly hide-away until closing time. At times I would help them vacuum. These were my bachelor days and the owner and staff were incredibly kind to me. They never kicked me out while I read and drank their beer and held up a seat for hours. In fact, I miss doing that to them. I lived close by. I walked there. And I would walk home. The BridgeSide Grille has a nook style bar and outside patio. I once was able to talk the owner’s son into selling a piece of art work he’d created. His painting was once hung on the wall of the bar. I really should give that back. When visiting BridgeSide be sure to also drive to the top of Mount Sugarloaf. BridgeSide Grille is located just on the over side of the bridge.

B Side Bridge

 

And moving on- Rhode Island has many pubs. One of which is The Twisted Vine in Westerly, RI.. Along with a great name, Pat and her employees were amazing to Megan during her pregnancy. The Twisted Vine has a NYC feel with the comfort of New England. Exposed Brick, properly lighted, with wood floors and a fire place- you cannot go wrong enjoying a drink here. Especially in the winter. Seat yourself in one of the high back leather chairs near the fireplace and enjoy a cocktail named after a famous author, such as my favorite, Ernest Hemingway. Just before Christmas I once walked into The Twisted Vine to find a Christmas party ongoing. It was packed. There wasn’t one seat left at the bar. Everyone was dressed very well. I was wearing a hoodie, blue jeans, and boots. I was even wearing my beat up Boston Red Sox hat. In my right hand was a book. I turned to leave. While walking toward the door, someone grabbed my elbow and said, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Pat, the owner, had observed me leaving. She wasn’t about to let me feel out of place. And it worked. She placed my butt in a seat and told me to enjoy and read. And I did.

I took the picture of The Twisted Vine’s floor just after Pat had them sanded and urethaned. Pat had seen me walking down the street and waved me in to have a look.

photo (58)

porter

And instead of my sub par photography I’ll post a picture that shows how gorgeous The Twisted Vine is.

Vine.JPG

Vine O

 

And lastly, simply because I’m running out of time to write, The Haversham. Also in Westerly, RI. Within The Haversham you’ll find a large sports pub. You literally can’t get there from one side of the road. You must first fight the Rhode Island road system before being able to enjoy one of the best sports pubs in the area. And when you do, ask for Shane. That man you will not forget. He may, or may not, be slightly crazy. Which I consider to be a word of wisdom and I’m flattered when I’m given the compliment.

It’s simple- if you want to watch a Patriots game and shout at the top of your lungs while drinking beer, this is where you need to be. You will have a rowdy good time. I’ve taken too many pictures of myself cheersing a new friend while at the Haversham. I’ve read numerous books and talked at length about authors, town happenings, and even politics and religion.

H Q

And slightly crazy Shane. The beach is just down the road.

Crazy S

I use the term ‘Pub’ loosely in this article. Each establishment I’ve written about has it’s own brand. I call them ‘Pubs’ because I hold that word close to my heart. To me, it’s an expression. A compliment. When I ask a friend if they’d like to go to a Pub it is because I would like to create a memory over a pint. I would like to charge forward and dive into a conversation that might never be forgotten. I want to cheers to them and to the moment and take a long pull just as Hemingway may have done.  And remember- Don’t ask permission to live your life. Live and be well doing it.

Thanks for reading. If interested in reading more you’ll find information on my self published short story via the link below.

https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/my-book/

Cheers.

 

New England – More Than a Region

New England bands culture with devotion. Where the four seasons are to be experienced and enjoyed, not endured. -M. Taggart

IMG_0044 (1)
Kennebunkport, Maine. Bush Senior’s estate overlooks the ocean. Kennebunkport is a beautiful sea side town. Visit the shops or brew pubs and enjoy the views.
Waiting
Watch Hill, Westerly RI. Fog helps to set the mood. The child will not see whom he is waiting for again.
Maine Snow
Shapleigh, Maine. A man climbs a snow bank during a snowstorm (2014). The region had been hit by several snow storms. People in Maine are known for enjoying all four seasons. Apparently night time snow bank climbing counts.
brimfield-tornado.jpg
Brimfield, MA. The 2011 tornado badly damaged this New England town. Visit Brimfield’s massive antique show.  You can view the tornado damage and help the town by having lunch or staying the night. Here’s where to find info http://www.brimfieldshow.com
Emily-Dickinson-Homestead.jpg
Amherst, MA. If you enjoy poetry, visit the Emily Dickinson house then visit downtown Amherst. It’s not a large town, but it’s just big enough to make an afternoon out of it. And if you’re researching colleges, there are five within minutes of one another.
Maple Syrup.jpg
Maple syrup lines, New Hampshire. (source: Flickr user glass_house)
Wine Country
Jonathan Edwards Winery. North Stonington, CT.  Take a drive into the hills of Connecticut, you won’t be disappointed.
Lobster Maine
Perry Long’s Lobster Shack, Surry, Maine. Find more info here http://www.mainetravelmaven.com/my-favorite-maine-lobster-shacks/
block
Block Island, RI. Go here. Just, GO, Here. Take the quick ferry ride and find this beach.

New England consists of six states. Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts. Click the link below if you’d like to read a short story which takes place in the valley-farmlands of Western MA.

https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/my-book/

Cheers! -M. Taggart

Hemingway – Quote

‘I decided that I would write one story about each thing that I knew about.’ -Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast.

I sit with strong coffee and read his words. His words are so well used they live within me directly after having met them. I once wrote ‘You can’t rewrite Hemingway’ and feel this to be severely true and that no one person should even try. However, if one sits and writes about what they know and their voice is their own and is strong they’ve done it. Each experience is unique.  A trip to get milk, written well, can be the best story to write and to read. And If I take Hemingway’s advice I’ll have enough to write about for the entirety of my life. In fact, I’ll not be able to finish.

Have a good day. I hope there will be wine and laughter. I hope you smile and are smiled upon. I hope we all do not take for granted today.

Cheers,

-M. Taggart

More thoughts on Papa:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/category/hemingway/

 

 

Coffee with Wine

This morning Megan told me Happy Father’s day. I’ve never been told this. It’s just after seven in the morning and her dark hair was falling over her naked shoulders. Megan is seven months pregnant and she is beautiful. And now with her naked shoulders and her dark hair and her arms reaching for me to come hug her she tells me happy father’s day.

I am toasting my ornery looking picture. To myself, and to all this applies, Happy Father’s day. The photo was taken a few weeks ago at a winery located in the hills of CT. It’s among our favorites. We walk to the edge of the winery and sometimes we stand on the rock wall and watch the cows graze. The only issue I take with the picture is that Megan is not with me. She is holding the camera and there was no one there.

FullSizeRender (12)

Now I sit at my desk with a coffee and a bit of red. I will celebrate this morning and I will write my 23rd chapter and I will think of the day we meet him.

Cheers.

She sits, reading to my niece, awaiting her turn.

photo (70)