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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PURITY

In the dark tabernacle, a shaft of sunlight illumines the heart and shines through a million years of dust. Clouds and clouds of swirling dust spiralling through the light which spills in a golden pool on damp, grey 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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YOU ARE AT PEACE

You are at peace and someone comes, thoughtless not unkind, and jogs you with his moment; demands your recognition, your admission, your consent to his place in your mind. What do you do? What harm has he done to you? … 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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