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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: dead
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. Herethey shed no tearat all the painthey left behind. Now,when they come again,they only findechoes of … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged Armistice Day, dead, deserted buildings, empty, lonely, long-ago, pain, prayers, requiem, tears, unpeopled streets
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REMEMBRANCE SUNDAY
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
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged autumnal gorse, dead, first frosts, Flanders, midwinter, new birth, November Poppies, November Rose, Remembrance Sunday, Rosemary
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GUESTS
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
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged dead, guests, heart, mind, patience, quiet corners, seek, thoughts, understanding
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NATURE’S LAW
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. .
SHADOWS
We peer into the shadowswhere yesterday’s sunlight glows,trying to capture and holdyesterday’s sunlit gold. We peer into tomorrowto predict and plotwhere that sun will likely go(but where, perhaps, it will not). Today’s sunshine still blazesits disc ever overhead.Past and future … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged Blondin, dead, future, gold, ight, land of the dead, past, predict, Remember the Light, shadows, sunlight, sunshine, tomorrow
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BREATH
Fine and insubstantial, separating the Living from the Dead. The hairs on your head are numbered; so too the breaths. Preserved or polluted or neglected, it drags us to our unintended goal; the destiny of all we have protected. Disintegration … Continue reading
Posted in Gnomonic Verses
Tagged breath, dead, destiny, disintegration, goal, living, whole
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BLONDIN Poems 