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Brian Taylor has been a Poet and Philosopher in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
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Category Archives: Blondin
WHY?
Because we have neglected muchwe finish up with such and such,surrounded by we see and touch.Because we have neglected much. Because we sit and dream (and dream)we cannot separate is and seem;images come in floods and teem.Because we sit and … Continue reading
THE CUSHION
The cushion lieswith altogether a more subtle glowand presses down upon the chair. The chessmen standin broken, mobile row,the camel knights with sharpened teethwait there. The air bounces on the crickets,the clouds are splashed by sea on sky.Quiet, green-consuming thicketsshade … Continue reading
COMPLETING CYCLES
The Juggler throwshis batons at the sun.The sky throws them back againlike rain,each and every one. Surely by now he knowswhat it is he’s gaining? Come Mr. Juggler,look at it from your point of view,just how long has it been … Continue reading
CALCULATIONS
Space you measure in feet and inchesand shoes by where your big toe pinches;seasons by cherry, rose and snow,when may comes and swallows go:empires by rise and fall of kings;weather by rain and drought and flood;dead trees by whether the … Continue reading
WHY DON’T YOU WANT TO KNOW?
Not knowing is a barreltumbling over Niagara:darkness withindanger without. Knowing is the full moonat midnightsplashing lightin the darkest corners. Wanting to knowis taking responsibilityfor the goodand the bad. Not wanting to knowis a skeleton in the cupboardand a bloody knifeunder … Continue reading
UP TO DATE AND READY TO GO
It may not be the bearded manwho smiles at you and explodes.It may not be the errant tyrethat slides on the icy roads.It may not be the scaffolding plankthat bounces on your head.It may not be pneumoniathat smothers you in … Continue reading
NO EXIT
Journeying from the beginning(of which there is no beginning),travelling for millions of years(which cannot be measured in millions or years),I have come,and go on.No stopping.Just the onward movementinto the illimitable.For ever. No need to blame the wicked,their shadows are at … Continue reading
AMERICA, AMERICA
We raised our hats to you, Mr Lincoln.We believed every word that you said.And when life spilled into darknessin a night of theatre,we believed, even though you were dead. From the decay that was Europe, we sent you our sonsto … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged Africa, America, Asia, Europe, free, Germany, God, Lord's Prayer, Mr Lincoln, Russia, theatre, vote, warfare
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MY HEAD IS CLEAR TODAY
“My head is clear today,the heavy morning stayed awayor lost itself in sleep.Clear, open-sensed,I keepan eye where a light beambends round the sensesat the dreamy edges. In the slow growth, in the egg of a dream,in purple darkness,pushed up by … Continue reading
US AND THEM
The tree relaxes therewith no thought of going anywhere. Bird-song-bird.The song is overheard.Perhaps we invent the birds.They might invent usif they could spell.Freak!They don’t even listen when we speak.Just as well. Foolish catplodding around like thatwhat does it think it’s … Continue reading
BLONDIN Poems 