Biography of Lex Taylor
I was almost in the middle of the year that punk rock was co-opted by the mainstream media,1977.
I'm a poet and copywriter for the last 20+ years, a screenplay writer for the last decade and an advertiser for the last three years.
Lex Taylor's Works:
As Silas Kavi
The Northern Colony
As Lex Taylor
The Matrix of Death Series
Vol.1: Shangaii of The Dead
Vol.2: Guffs of The Dead
Vol.3: Loves of the Dead
Vol.4: Homesickness of The Dead
Lex Taylor Poems
Bedouin In The Threshold
Why vindications of death's oblivion, Grant scholarships for the contemptible sheep, Of inferiority ingrained skin-deep? It's conceit, prejudiced about fortune...
Institutes Of The Lord
Deceased, carnal, hostile, western schools of thought, Rejecting the institutes of the Lord, With secret personal fear to be outscored, The laments of the dead this musings have brought,
Monstrosities needing an uprooting, Continue appearing in the dead woodbine, Their scathing and ludicrous disputing, Out of the edges of any plot line,
The dead have fun in calling us names, Even mimicking and disrespecting, With pathetic and fancy nicknames, Which prompt a poetic justice deflecting,
Elegy For James D Morrison, The Poet And...
After forty years with two months and twelve days, Since you, great modern Dionysus, did leave us, You, shrink of masses who turned our souls ablaze, Deserve from the tomb of the earth's vileness...
The Kernel Of Conundrums Between Lines
I looked back into my life's graveyard dreams, And resolved the signs' sub-textual enigma, They are a melange of mystic schemes, The remedy for the headstones stigma?
To give credit where it is due and sing your praise, with admiration, Adoring your devoted genius which deserves my admiration,
Necropolis Or Ode To Their Final Resting...
Oh necropolis! you charnel quagmire! Initiation grounds of genealogies! Lend grim, dead, mellifluous homesickness! Grandest shelter for my quondam sorrows,
There's Love In Death
Words will bring generosity, For our wooing of loves concealed, Of blessed fondness that symbols yield... Desiring informality.
Signs... agents of brutality, Priceless with mystic splendor, Telling of death's wooing; contenders, Infinity, mortality.
Punx Of Death
The deeply soft and noble balance, Of the stalwart punkish youthhood, Endlessly dark and white fairhood, According to circumstances.
The Jñana Yoga Years
The years of quiet knowledge cultivation, Alone, the madness amplification, Born of a disconnected from reality, And gone haywire, big imagination...
I can transmute cheap metal into gold, I am able to take any form I like, I know who I was in my previous lives and I can vanish all kind of morbidities,
Those tiny blokes with neckties in gelid offices, confer you revolutions and umbrage. I saw the elm, vortex,
Weary of straying, greatly
I sit on a remote diner
and order a sundae.
Entranced, I bask and reckon;
the sally went utterly tender
by the alamedas and the
boulevards. Houses o