The Perpetual Moment

I have a story to share,
of a chaos that I created.
It’s not what you would picture,
spiraling effects of mania.
Nor the screaming pulse
of emotional upheaval.
No this is chaos that was
laced in the mundane.
Something that took years
to blend in concoction.
It came as quite the surprise,
when I found myself
standing dumbfounded.
In the perpetual moment.

Already lost? So was I,
drifter of the nine to five.
I never heard anything,
other than would you like fries?
Each day turned with little notice,
endless delusions of reality.
Until the wait of them all
landed me in bedlam.
As microcosmic bits I scattered,
shaken present into the moment.
It was then that I saw offer
of a chance to witness.
Going with seize over fear,
I saw the truth of it all,
the most essential secret.
It is just a recording.
Transcribed by my flesh,
in the perpetual moment.

The most complicated of simple,
this was to digest.
Honestly you must think
man, take a pill.
Though I give you assurance,
that what I have learned,
sits in the concept of discernment.
See the story from the life,
the turn from the curve,
it’s all a recorded tape.
Luring out the couch potato minds.
The reactive role of spectator
in a line judge uniform.
So I did something unique,
I said to it all “pause”,
simply told it to stop.
Taking a chance to look around,
I can tell you what
I was able to discover.
Nothing more than a room,
containing random files of
the perpetual moment.

My scenery became pencil
and I the eraser.
I could rewind to a time,
then fast forward to another.
And in this practice,
of sorting out my order.
Came to me a single perfect thought,
my magnum opus moment.
I could be the author of this tale,
weave it in any verse I wanted.
My choice presented,
to stay and watch these old tapes.
I will grow lethargic, as they wear thin.
Perhaps it was time to make my début,
into a new full length film.
One that cannot plague my mind,
warped in bad scenes.
For now I am the editor,
in control of the cutting room floor.
And as my dazzling finish,
I mark in pen, ‘Fin’ to
the perpetual moment.

Written for One Stop Poetry presents Shay on Free Verse