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Brian Taylor is a Poet and Philosopher who lives in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
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PARADISE LOST (AND REGAINED?)
In the Beginning. God walked with Adam in the cool of the day.Despite hearing the Truth from God’s own mouth,Adam did not heed Him. Later,God sent prophets to be his tongues.Despite hearing the Truth from God’s own prophets,Adam’s descendants did not … Continue reading
Posted in Gnomonic Verses
Tagged Adam, beginning, God, here, New Age, Paradise Lost, prophets, punishment, reward, Truth
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SQUARING THE CIRCLE
How glad I amthat I am hereand not somewhere else. (If I weresomewhere else,I’d be here.) No escape, then! .
Posted in Gnomonic Verses
Tagged Blondin, glad, Gnomonic Verses, here, I am, no escape
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LEARNING
Learning out and learning inboth from now and here begin. Going back to change the clockyesterday’s secrets will not unlock. Writing plans on your diary’s pagemakes nothing happen (except old age). Singing old songs,reciting old parts,rights no wrongs,breeds more false … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged Blondin, clock, diary, false starts, here, learning, Now, old age, Oxford, Oxford Blues, plans, secrets
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MID-SEPTEMBER SUN
Dry and ripening: sea flat and shining like burning glass. Gulls floating like ducks on a giant’s pond. Small Coppers, Blues and Hairstreaks playing like blown leaves in parched grass. Victoria plums, blackberries. This is the turning of the year … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged blackberries, butterflies, cosmic seeds, ducks, dust, fear, here, plums, September, traveller
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JUPITER SPINS
Jupiter spins, they say, three times as fast as earth and thus enjoys a shorter day. They say the sun will grow and then, at last, burn up the planets which lie in its way. They say, the universe is … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged black holes, dies, eyes, here, Jupiter, nothingness, sun, telescopes, universe
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HERE
NOW runs like a crack through the universe. Through it beings escape. Between each step Between each movement Between each breath Between each heartbeat Between each living cell Between each thought Between each impulse light shines. Through the crack that … Continue reading
REQUIEM: ARMISTICE DAY
This year the dead are blind and do not seem to hear our prayers. Nor do they seem to mind that we now own what they once thought was theirs. Here they shed no tear at all the pain they … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged Armistice Day, dead, empty, here, Now, pain, prayers, thought
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