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Brian Taylor is a Poet and Philosopher who lives in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
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Tag Archives: Brian Taylor
11th HOUR, 11th DAY, 11th MONTH
November Rose.Pink and white and mauve.Solitary, still,among the rosemary and late autumnal gorse. Sea winds have blown.The first frosts have frozen the short grass.Spring and summer are memories,midwinter an echo in reverse. November Rose for the dying.November Poppies for the … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged 11th Month, bitter Flanders earth, Brian Taylor, first frosts, gorse, midwinter, new birth, November Poppies, November Rose, Remembrance Day, Rosemary, sea winds
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MAKE THE MOST OF IT
Said the Junior Dean. What is “It”that we should make the most of it?What have wethat we can justly boast of it? We have inherited our share of wealth;and karma and good sensehave brought us health. Time weighs not on … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged ashes, Brian Taylor, Desires, good sense, health, It, karma, Oxford, Oxford Blues, parable, shadows, talent, Time, too late, wealth
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FLANDERS FIELD
Enter the Heart Chakra. What can be seen? A meadow. An enormous meadow, stretching as far as can be seen in all directions. In the centre of it is a great tree. “What is this great meadow?” “It is Flanders … Continue reading
Posted in Gnomonic Verses
Tagged Astrals, Brian Taylor, buds, Centre, fertile soil, Flanders Field, great tree, guns, Heart Chakra, silence and peace, silent, soldiers, trenches
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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
Posted in Blondin
Tagged Armistice Day, Blondin, Brian Taylor, Cadets, Ezra Pound, Flanders, grief, Just, medals, November, Oxford, painful generation, past, poppies, present, pro patria, remembrance, spirits, transcendental dust, uniforms
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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. Here they shed no tearat all the painthey left behind. Now, when they come again,they … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged Armistice Day, Blondin, Brian Taylor, dead, echoes of long ago, image, lonely corridors, pain, prayers, requiem
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MAGDALEN
In the Fellows’ Gardens,past the Deer Park,a willow twists and stretchesout of a brown poollike a giant Nagatrailing garlands of green lace. Along the avenues of Addison’s Walk,among birch and beech,chestnuts stretch out their brancheslike semaphores,and hang their leaves like … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged Academics, beech, birch, Brian Taylor, chestnuts, Deer Park, Magdalen, Michaelmas Term, Naga, Odysseus, Oxford, Painted Lady, willow
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