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Brian Taylor is a Poet and Philosopher who lives in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
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Tag Archives: sun
CHINA BOUND GIRL
China-bound girl, not-yet-happiness-made-her-found girl. Airport-station-taxis girl, brand-new-outside-sensations girl. Three-plus champagnes-anything can-do girl, anywhere-go preferably-Katmandu girl. From-past-sadness-ever-fleeing girl, balanced-on-the-very-edge-of seeing girl. Wonderful-from-the-very-beginning girl, so-afraid-of–losing-she-must-be-always-winning girl. So-shy-her-confidence-is overwhelming girl, she-keeps-her-captains-firmly-at-their-helms-ing girl. China-bound girl, Love at her heels, how does she think what … Continue reading
Posted in Oxford Blues
Tagged blind man's buff, China, China-bound girl, happiness, Katmandu girl, love, seeing, sun
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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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GNOMON
The shadow of the gnomon* slides at a steady rate. Even if the dial is ancient, the time itself is up to date. Though the train sleeps in the station, the sun just will not wait. And the ever moving … Continue reading
BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE
Super-talented children play on the eternal beach, building castles and cities and civilisations and worlds, anything, everything they want; and try to keep all and each out of everyone else’s reach. Dancing around hand in hand, they themselves are powdered … Continue reading
Posted in Bamboo Leaves
Tagged beautiful, castles, civilisations, dancing, eternal, sea, sun, worlds
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LISTEN
What is that sound? Like the trailing of a fan through a silent anteroom? It is the murmur of air ruffling leaves. It is the herald of the whirlwind which will strip those leaves from their trees and wrench the … Continue reading
THE SUDDENLY SEPARATE SPIDER SENTRY
STILLNESS is the space between movements the crack in the universe the gloved hand with the art to pull apart two thin life stitches and let a stab of nothing in. An eye with sky behind for mind, a face … Continue reading
THE SEASON
The season slides to wind and showers and sharp hot sun (for rare half-hours) and all the world lays waste its powers pursuing what it cannot own. Then mists and fogs and hazy sunrise ships’ dull horns and lazy gull … Continue reading
