Poetica Spontenaium 03.07.04
Trapped in the Present Tension (Audio blog)
You would oft times tell me that I was bound in the past
Shackled by the should have doubts
That carried nails and poison
With a hair-pin trigger.
So that later, caught up within the present tension
Some suicide epipliplectic occasion would occur.
A sophisticated bomb that set on the appropriate occasion, circumstance, or flicker of emotion would emote a response of painful and indomiitable conflict and collateral damage.
I could not help myself from the tail spin.
Otherwise, I’d find myself in an ersatz dystopia of future potentialities.
Dramatic dialogue set in sepia
Complete with anime hair and personal wind machines
And subtle guestures like a Chinese Opera.
Me, I’d be the hero. Wouldn’t I?
Saying the right things at the right time. Ever noble and true.
Ever dignified and forth right.
And if it were my destiny, I’d be honored better in tragedy than in victory
for my ideals. Because in that future tension circumstance, I’d have someone writing the plot and the drama and dialogue.
I’d have a visible purpose from the divine’s perception of my life. Director. God. The same.
Right.
Stuck in the present tension, I find myself like this.
Trapped, mute, and self conscious. For everything I say and fail to say. For every glance that can speak the volumes that my tongue paralized is muted by.
As if I were a Shakespearian on stage without script.
And that is life, isn’t it? Within the present tension?
Sweaty, silky, and soaked with doubt?
As if I, in my IPA-weary perception could identify that which is true and that which is decoy.
You’ve told me, yes once before
That this time, the now
is it.
There is no other. No second chances.
That the now is the most important component of our lives
And that our greatest sin in life
was to discredit the now, and those opportunities
those lush love soaked opportunities
that in the now we pretend don’t exist.
because we’re still sorting out the should have’s
and meticulously planning the next time’s.
You. Me.
Tied now with twine in the present tension.
Do you see how precious this is. This madness that holds us two in this moment that’s flying past us faster that public opinion on this season’s fashion or local politicians.
Do you see now, this thing of ferocious existence that claws us into the world of the awake as opposed to those that are dreaming of the future or meditating still, on the past?
And the present tension that is now only evident in the meter of your heart synched in to mine?
Yes this. The Now. You, me, and a ball of twine.
(Inspired by Dan Diggity)
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