Biography of Brian Taylor
Brian Taylor is a poet and philosopher presently living in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
Brian Taylor's Works:
'Blondin & Other Poems' (2006)
'Bamboo Leaves' (2007)
'Oxford Poems' (2008)
'Going Out There is No Other' (1995)
'Coming Back There Is No Trace' (2005)
'CENTRE The Truth about Everything' (2011)
'Vajras Dorjes' (2011)
'The Universal Octopus & Mr Tao' (2013)
'Basic Buddhism For A World In Trouble' (2006)
'Dependent Origination' (2009)
'The Ten Fetters' (2010)
Brian Taylor Poems
The ugly sister, Alice, glared at the mirror with reflected malice; gave a grin and blew a bubble;
An Educated Crocodile Is Still A Crocodi...
Rabbit with a habit lived in a hole next to Vole.
I, Me, Mine
In the Beginning (or perhaps a little later) there was I.
The Heart Of Darkness
The explorer draws his map and plunges into space. Why should he stumble on at every fresh mishap
Nobody Will Hear You Dead
Nobody will hear you dead. It may be in time someone will remember
The great stone Hall is silent that is now millennia old. Through the western windows shines a glorious sun.
What is that sound? Like the trailing of a fan through a silent anteroom?
City Of Angels
Shafting sunbeams. misty eddies, towering, sculpted, shining chedis, thundering traffic, six lane highways, swampy, shabby, back-street by-ways,
The Sun Shines
The sun shines on the path silent and still.
Flowers Of The Human Spirit
A woman looks up from her place among the dirt and pollution of Silom Road and joins her palms together in salutation.
April was hot and dry. The red earth responded by blowing as dust in the wind.
We raised our hats to you, Mr Lincoln. We believed every word that you said. And when life spilled into darkness in a night of theatre,
Super-talented children play on the eternal beach, building castles and cities and civilisations and worlds,
Mind moves with the breath which fuels this articulated doll from birth to death.
Christ Church meadow
is awash with driving rain
and a wind which bites the skin
and chills the blood within.
Its paths are sticky, yellow mud.
And the Cherwell, brown and dull,
slips ever higher.
Ducks, moorhens, squirrels