Tag Archives: Brian Taylor

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

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GREAT MEN

But really you see there weren’t any great at all. Those may not have stumbled, heads high, walked tall, filling the silence where others mumbled. But words fail skulls fall. And before? Before, they could taste, smell, see, tell, bore. … Continue reading

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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 … Continue reading

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JUNE

A dry June and roses and honeysuckle tumble in riotous flower down the path, below the gate, in anticipation of drought. They rush slowly (keeping vegetable time) towards the battlefield of fern and bramble which flows, inconclusively, to the cliff … Continue reading

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THE SEASON

The season slides to wind and showers and sharp hot sun (for rare half-hours) and all the world lays waste its powers pursuing what it cannot own. Then mists and fogs and hazy sunrise ships’ dull horns and lazy gull … Continue reading

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IN AND OUT THE WINDOWS

“In and out the windows as we have done before.” Moving in and out of being stopping just this side of seeing, in and out of life they pass, kestrel, robin, spider, mouse. Each their special shapes they wear, striving … Continue reading

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YOGA

Mind moves with the breath which fuels this articulated doll from birth to death. What starts out as routine maintenance for a puppet with entangled strings develops to a share in the dance of the dragon that eternally sings. But, … Continue reading

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