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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: Oxford
WAITING
Magdalen’s groundsare full of life,full of space. Space, which is mownand cleared,tended and enclosed,its waterways unchoked,brown and sparkling clear. It is home to ducksand coots,to dragonflies and deer. Grass and paths and gatesand streamsand yesterday’s undergraduatesare waiting. Not for the … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged being, bless, deer, dragonflies, empty heart, eternal sigh, future, genius, letting go, Magdalen, Oxford, past, peace, space, undergraduates, waiting, Yes!
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AFTERNOON TEA AT THE WARNEFORD
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
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged animal, bird, communication, cosmic suffering, dead, farmyard, here, living, mind, Oxford, pre-Cambrian, sensation, silent universe, speech, student halls, Warneford
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OXFORD: MICHAELMAS
Christ Church meadowis awash with driving rainand a wind which bites the skinand chills the blood within.Its paths are sticky, yellow mud.And the Cherwell, brown and dull,slips ever higher.Ducks, moorhens, squirrels endure it.As they endure frost and iceand the teeth … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged chapel, Cherwell, Christ Church, Christian culture, ducks, frost, ice, Man, medieval, Merton, Michaelmas, New World, Oxford, peace, spiritual ache, vision
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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
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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 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
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MAGDALEN
In the Fellows’ Gardens,past the Deer Park,a willow twists and stretchesout of a brown poollike a giant Nāgatrailing 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, chestnuts, Deer Park, living, Magdalen, Michaelmas, Odysseus, Oxford, Oxford University, World's End
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AREOPAGITICA
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
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POST IMPERIAL BLUES
A terrorist gets his way by violence. Like Alexander,he would prefer a city to surrender peacefully.Like Alexander,he will destroy it if it doesn’tand enslave its population. A successful terrorist,like a successful leopard,does not change his spots. A pugilist can break … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged Alexander, Congo, don, footprints, leopard, lions, massacre, Nigeria, Oxford, post imperial, poverty, Rwanda, statistics, student, terrorist
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BLONDIN
“Blondin” is a like a large box of tasty organic delicacies, which you dip in and out of at your leisure – not something to be attempted at one sitting. The poems deal with many facets of life, from glimpses of the cosmic, to the scent of the breeze on a local Cornish lane. Whatever your taste- whether it be wit, insight, or the Tao, you’ll find something to engage you. Continue reading
Posted in Blondin
Tagged atheist, Blondin, Book Reviews, Buddhist, deathless, eternal springs, good and evil, good friend, humour, insight, Now, organic, Oxford, poetry, Tao, Truth, verse, wit
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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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BLONDIN Poems 