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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
OWN GOAL
Cast up on a desert island,hut to be erected,food to be found. Making something I can call ‘my land’to protect and be protectedon my own ground. Another somewhereto be hot and cold in.A here (or there)to be young (grow old) … Continue reading
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Tagged Blondin, Cosmic Mole, desert island, footprints, my land, Now, Own Goal, seagulls
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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 mine.And we got on like … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged beginning, Blondin, French Revolution, i me mine, lonely, mess!, mine, Second World War, share, Spanish Armada, Tony Blair, Vietnam, you
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TO THE BELIEVERS IN OUR GOVERNMENTS
Do you really think the othersare any less stupid than you? All history is prejudiced and gossipy,all science misuse of the misunderstood. But nobody waits to understand.There is no timejump onuse ityou can’t refuse itit’ll make you happywhatsitmatter whatsitsfor? A … Continue reading
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Tagged bad luck, civilisation, clumsy airman, clumsy reaper, drop his bomb, gossip, governments, history, make you happy, no time, prejudice, understand
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REQUIEM: ARMISTICE DAY
This yearthe dead are blindand do not seem to hearour prayers.Nor do they seem to mindthat we now ownwhat they once thought was theirs. Herethey shed no tearat all the painthey left behind. Now,when they come again,they only findechoes of … Continue reading
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Tagged Armistice Day, dead, deserted buildings, empty, lonely, long-ago, pain, prayers, requiem, tears, unpeopled streets
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ARMISTICE DAY
‘Died some pro patria non dulce non et decor.’So Ezra Pound adapted Horace’s linesfor those whose sufferings for their nationhad bred a dull, dark, painful generationwith gloria cauterised from their minds. In the calendar their deaths are still recorded.Poppies and … Continue reading
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Tagged Armistice Day, bombs, Ezra Pound, FAITH, Flanders, gloria, grief, Martyrs' Memorial, medals, November, Oxford, past, poppies, present, refuge, remembrance, St Giles, transcendental dust
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THE HAPPIEST OLD
The happiest oldhave nothing and don’t mind.The happiest youngare old before their time.Few these. The others are behind their years,suffer thirteen-year-olds’ fearsinto their twenties,and in their fortieshave appetitefor sins of twenty. But not the bite. .
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Tagged appetite, fears, happiness, have nothing, old, sins of twenty, Time, young
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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
A SHELL
A SHELLa big shellon a warm sand shelfbuilding long and strongout at last kept out. TIME to decidewhat’s insidefor inside meditationfor contemplation.Any answers? A SKULLa big skullwith a warm snug selfbuilding long and strongto keep out out. EYE, ear and … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged bone, brain, building, contemplation, inside, meditation, Self, sense saturation, Shell, skull, Time
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THE SEASON
The season slidesto wind and showersand sharp hot sun(for rare half-hours)and all the worldlays waste its powerspursuing what it cannot own. Then mists and fogs and hazy sunriseships’ dull horns and lazy gull cries. Now blazing heat(bone dry pails)sandy feetsingle … Continue reading
