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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: born
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
SPRING
The great rock spins a little closer to the Fireand all its creatures,born of warmthand of desire,crack shells, burst seeds,feed and breedand say YES. They burn gently, while they may,being born of warmth and of desire,until the great rock spins … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged Blondin, born, breed, Brian Taylor, desire, fire, great rock, lonely heart, seeds, spring, tempests, waiting
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NOT TO BE BORN IS BEST
Looking with dispassion,with equanimity,with detachment,doesn’t it shine brighter than a thousand suns?And in every minute particular? The broken wingthe severed fingerthe uncompleted life‘the smyler with the knife’the loss of all things dearthe smell of fearspirochaetes, viruses and germsand the ever-chewing … Continue reading
Posted in Ego Ego God of the Jungle
Tagged a thousand suns, born, breath, death, detachment, dispassion, equanimity, Eternal empty wind, Evermore, fear, Heaven, joys and pains, past, viruses and germs
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RETURNING TO THE ROOT
The fretful Tiger in a rageprowls the confines of his cage.Do not feed him. Pass him by.And, of himself, he’ll surely die. The Gypsy, with her crystal ball,promises to tell you all.Do not cross her palm with gold.Leave your future … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged Blondin, born, crystal ball, die, gold, Gypsy, heart divine, root, stillness, Tiger
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FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT
As you contemplate your worldsliding into darkness and conflictand your leaders just WILL not help youbut just scramble among themselvesfor the bits and pieces left over, well… If you can’t stop it, Best jump off it! As Sophocles said. “Not to be born is … Continue reading
FREEDOM
The fretful Tiger in a rageprowls the confines of his cage.Do not feed him. Pass him by.And, of himself, he’ll surely die. The Gypsy, with her crystal ball,promises to tell you all.Do not cross her palm with gold.Leave your future … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged born, crystal ball, die, freedom, Gypsy, heart divine, silence, stillness, Tiger, wave
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BLONDIN Poems 