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Brian Taylor is a Poet and Philosopher who lives in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
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Category Archives: Blondin
GNOMON
The shadow of the gnomon* slides at a steady rate. Even if the dial is ancient, the time itself is up to date. Though the train sleeps in the station, the sun just will not wait. And the ever moving … Continue reading
I, ME, MINE
In the Beginning (or perhaps a little later) there was I. And then, because I was lonely, there was me. And we got on like a house on fire! And, so that we could have something in common, there was … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged beginning, French Revolution, house on fire, I, lonely, me, mine, Spanish Armada, Tony Blair, Vietnam
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RIGHT VIEW
To the rose the garden disappears. To the garden the rose withers away. (If you were the gardener, what would you say?) Trace it all back as far as you can from where it is now to where it began. From … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged footprints, garden, gateways, mind, Right View, rose, sensation, shine
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HAVE A HAPPY WEEK
“Empty-handed I come and lo! the spade is in my hand.” In the illimitable Void All is destroyed (and Nothing is lost!) Everything appears anew: good seeds flourish (and evil too). They said to the Poet at his birth, “Go! … Continue reading
YES
Every moment is a fork in the road and every fork is always the same, the choice between right and wrong.
CUT INTO HUMAN WOOD
Cut into the human wood chop; pare; to find what is already there. Will the knife reveal what we have outgrown? Or does the sculptor feel along the veins and in the bone the shape already in the stone and … Continue reading
GET UNSTUCK
Leaves from the Tree of Life; brown and withered, dried with growing old, dislodged by the touch of Time; or green, with veins still swelling with rising sap, torn free by an untimely wind. What are they, these dancing treasures? … Continue reading
