Brian Taylor has been a Poet and Philosopher in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
Tag Archives: dead
Speechreaches outto whisper and shout,praise and curse,across a silent universe;making of molecular vibrationa means of human communication. It wasn’t always quite like this;the groansand moans,the hissand howlsin the warm pre-Cambrian mudwere eloquent enough avowalsof love and hatred, fear and blood. … Continue reading
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. Herethey shed no tearat all the painthey left behind. Now,when they come again,they only findechoes of … Continue reading
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
Why did they spend so much time therein the anteroom of death?What could they prepare?Paper possessions as light as breathwere too heavy for their dead to bearaway from the fire.Why did they keep their eyeson pyramid, tomb and funeral pyre?Even … Continue reading
November RosePink 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
Who are the deadI have not reached(or been unable to find)who wait with such patiencein quiet corners of my mind? Seek with the mindyou get thoughts.Seek with the heartyou get understanding.Speak with thoughtsyou reach a man’s mind.Speak with understandingyou reach … Continue reading
IF,while you are alive,You honestly (and steadfastly)add two and two togetherand get five. THEN,finally (and lastly)when you are safely deadyou will find that all those extra oneswill surely stand you in good stead. Ask Darwin. .