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Brian Taylor has been a Poet and Philosopher in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
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Tag Archives: beginning
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
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
THE BEGINNING
Trace it all back as far as you canfrom where it ends up to where it began:From knife to the hand,from hand to the eye;from footprints on sandto the sun in the sky. Trace it back further to where it … Continue reading
Posted in Gnomonic Verses
Tagged beginning, footprints, gateways, mind, Mozart, on/off, sensations, shines, skin, sky, sun, trace it, windows, within
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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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REMEMBRANCE MONDAY
Remembranceis invalidunlessit goes right back to the beginning. Cats know thisand complete their lives in the present. Humans don’twhich makes their workincompleteand invalid;a building lacking its foundation. .
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged beginning, building, cats, Foundation, Humans, present, Remembrance Monday, work
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BEGINNING THE END
Beginning is beginning the end. The end begins with the first step. There is no middle to this muddle. Whatever is not thirsting up to escape is being dragged back down to expire. (Poem from Gnomonic Verses)
I, ME, MINE
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 … Continue reading
BLONDIN Poems 