Brian Taylor has been a Poet and Philosopher in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
Tag Archives: Oxford Blues
‘Going out there is no other,coming back there is no trace’.Love and care for one another,smooth the sadness from her face. Like Orestes how she travels!Light-foot ever, onward roams;as the skein of life unravels,everywhere she makes her homes. Loves she … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues Tagged Eurydice, grass blade to her star, Kathleen, king of Shades, Life, love, Orestes, Orpheus, Oxford Blues, pain, Pluto, sadness, smile, sunshine, travel Leave a comment
TRUTH IN THE BOTANIC GARDENS
Thousands of magnolia flowers,by Danby’s gateand yellowstone walls,test vernal powersagainst the winds of March; and wait. Slowly, blossoms fall,like heavy snowflakes, one by one,lit by a dull and clouded sun. Tourists have gathered here to seethe wonder of this snow-blossom … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues Tagged "inner eye", Botanic Gardens, harvest, march, Oxford Blues, photography, snowflakes, tourists, Truth, vernal power Leave a comment
MIDWINTER’S DAY IN THE BOTANIC GARDENS
Hippophaewith clusters of orange berrieson spiky twigs. Set in this ancient, yellowstone wall,which separates the formal walksfrom the marsh garden to the south,is the gateway (with gate long gone).At its base, nerines – all mauves and reds –spill over on … Continue reading
Posted in Blondin, Oxford Blues Tagged Blondin, Botanic Gardens, Brian Taylor, Cherwell, Magdalen, magnolia, medicinal garden, Merton, mid-winter, Oxford, Oxford Blues, winter jasmine, yew tree Leave a comment
“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 Oxford Blues Tagged Armistice Day, bombs, deaths, dust, Ezra Pound, Flanders, gloria, grief, human litter, Martyr's Memorial, medals, November, Oxford, Oxford Blues, past and present, poppies, pro patria, services, spirits, St Giles, transcendental Leave a comment
THE ONE AND THE MANY
If there is only One,nothing can be special.If there is Nothing,what then? .
Posted in Oxford Blues Tagged many, nothing, One, Oxford Blues, special Leave a comment
UPWARDLY MOBILE CAT
The cat sitsin the Provost’s chair! Wisdom,being devoidof Right Understanding,has become Worldly Savoir-Faire. (poem from OXFORD BLUES) .
Posted in Oxford Blues Tagged cat, moblie, Oxford Blues, savoir-faire, understanding, wisdom, worldly Leave a comment
The Vice Chancellor is leaving!And the mourners go about the streets,throwing their mortar boards in the airand waving their gownslike bullfighters’ capes. In the Vivisection Laboratory,the faintest of grey lightsslants through the bars of cageswhere animals waitto be scientifically torturedfor … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues Tagged Chancellor, God, laboratory, makind, Oxford, Oxford Blues, scientifically tortured, Vice, vivisection Leave a comment
T.S. ELIOT AT 4.00 PM
Ten thousand pieces on the floorreconstruct his own jigsaw,each one shaped at the five sense doorsto compose the picture he is looking for.Achensee with snowflakes?Earl Grey tea and cakes? He cannot hide.He cannot escape into the seascape’s swell,nor is the … Continue reading
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 Leave a comment