Time Made Visible in the Transport of Shadows Passing Across a Van in Front

A balmy November day 

The scraggly oaks

Have been stripped bare 

Long before now so 

As we're driving

Down Montauk Highway

Their shadows scroll by

On the back of the Cor J

Delivery truck just in front

But on the ground

They're fixed in place

More or less or

Only moving at the sun's

Sluggish pace

So you can read your speed

By the rate the shadows pass

Across the back of the van

But don't take your

Eyes off the road

Or otherwise you

Might run aground

In some ditch

Instead of 

Enjoying the 

Display of Time (equal

to Rate divided by Distance)

Rushing by right

In front of your eyes 

Sent from my iPhone

A Compound Tweet

Death is in front of us all

As on the schoolroom wall

Alexander's last battle stands reproduced

And so too it’s true that

Panic attacks and anxiety

Have been linked to low

Vitamin B6 and iron levels

According to Franz Kafka

And all the latest studies

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This is a poem of enjambment composed simply by combining two nearly simultaneous tweets from my tweet stream that at first glance seemed to be completely disconnected.  The point of the poem is to discover their deeper connection. 

A Short Poem About a Silvery Pearl

As Yasutani Roshi says

The fundamental delusion

Of humanity is to suppose

That I am here and

You are out there –

Receive this as truth

From a sage who was born

Clutching a silvery pearl

His mother had ingested

Or as Wittgenstein suggests

It’s not quite turtles all the way down

But rather at the deepest level

Grammar drives human thought
And not the other way around

A silvery pearl

Travelers' Advisory

We wish to inform all travelers

That the journey to cure insomnia

Is perilous indeed first

Proceeding out along

A narrow ridge almost

As if walking on thin air
Until the spirit becomes aloft

Can you please email me a copy of that picture when you get a chance?

Background of Life by M. Bridge

When you finally

Open up to the romance

That everywhere surrounds you

You realize now is as good

A time as any to start

A new sub-genre

Of photo surrealism

In order to better

Depict the spiritual truth

Of the light that inhabits
The plant itself

This Evening's Walk

With the treetops

For kindling

The sky burst 

Into flames

Blazing away

Before fading 

To mottled gray

And yet the creek 

Displayed the 

Utmost composure

As it settled into slack tide

Without a ripple or wave

Except for a duck

Languorously  

Paddling by and

Leaving stillness
In its wake

A poem composed just shy of the Yin Extremity as I walked along Fourth Neck

 After only two sips

From the soda can (which I then

left standing on the porch railing)

I proceeded east along

The easternmost stretch

Of Fourth Neck

Just as the yardmen

Were heading home

In their pick up truck

Leaving behind an enormous

Pile of leaves in front of

Aunt CeeCee’s house

With the Yin power

Only a night or two

From its utmost extremity

I headed down towards

The creek in the moon’s

Buttery glow

Past my neighbor Scott

Conversing on his cell phone

In a light warm enough

To draw rabbits out to dance

In their thickened coats

From one dead end sign

To another I traversed further east

Until my mind’s eye ran out

Beyond the point of no return

Where the moon

Had doubled itself

From top to bottom

In the calmed waters

Of the creek

I paddled on in that moonlight

Almost bright enough

To obscure the Pleiades rising

Which kept beckoning me on

Just a few fingers  
Above the horizon

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