Impossible mission to captcha infinitesimal moment

alternately titled: tick tock runneth amuck

seconds elapse imperceptibly
leaving me dumbstruck,
how quickly fleeting tempus fugit;

ofttimes imagined as time thief.

Hence following vignette: quiet as a mouse lurks the time thief

The invisible hours hoarder stealthily steals precious seconds (like minute hors d'oeuvres) away during the dead of night surreptitiously and unsuspectingly robs and buries me alive by subtracting each and every precious second of my tender life.

As the world spins, the days fly by at nearly the hummingbird wings at the deathly hallow supersonic sound, this little elfin grot sized goniff (groomed by Father Time) monopolizes and usurps a greater role like some unwanted guest who overstays his welcome.

Mortality (visited by quick and painless demise) on the other hand would be an especial balm, relief and tonic to my countless decades long existential slog, which this model ’59 hew man cargo happens to be in sore need and want of that fairy tale genie in a bottle to grant me eternity.

How quickly the hands blindingly whiz by instantaneously eclipsing memories from yesterday (when all my troubles seemed so far away) as I just barely shucked off the frock from today.

Meanwhile faint hints of tomorrow (albeit dark shadows creeping imperceptibly closer from the edge of night as all my children frolic in the summer of their blissful innocence totally oblivious to the galloping generational gourmand grandfatherly clocker) hungrily prowling on the outskirts of styx strewn groveling grooved globe.

Nocturnal creatures emerged from respective hideouts regaling in fleeting festivities (apropos to their species/ genus) before the curtain rises on another dawning day.

Although an unseen yet palpable grim harbinger (per prescribed existential allowance) precedes, and allocates finite years sans spontaneous birth of life, the daily hubbub finds this introspective individual self-absorbed in gloom.

Thus, he infrequently finds himself conscious of that eye popping, jaw dropping, mind boggling sheer speed of light flash representative of his passing life. Where in the world did those days, weeks, months, years, and decades go? Try as one might to catch the robber baron of ages, he/she also appears to be at least one second ahead.

These immeasurable micro moments appear to leap ever faster as one inches closer to that average length of longevity. Odd though, that these indiscriminate discrete constituent parts of being consciousness well nigh impossible to isolate, yet recognition prevails at cradle to grave cycle.

I feel utterly dumbstruck at diminishing residence on this planet now while walking along the boulevard of broken dreams. An indistinguishable blur (akin to the brushstroke of an artist across blank palette yet to be covered with an unpredictable product) the only evidence that tempus fugit.

Now as one crotchety curmudgeon contemplating cumulative chapters of mein kampf (from childhood to doddering sexagenarian senescence), nostalgia for yesteryear like a parasite symbiotically festering inside for unrequited liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

The second these minute, gnarled, bent arthritic fingers manage to lay hands on that bleeping son of a blank, hours and days will be like one endless months long week-end without parental supervision.

Throughout mankind's awakened consciousness
elusive abstract notion

identifying past, present, and future

adopted as avuncular personification;

Father Time an apropos sobriquet
impossible concept to grasp

within the mind of one Finnish huckabuck,

whose clodhoppers get mired in muckamuck

analogous to quicksand yours truly stuck

markedly challenged, hence

mission scuttled when attempting to zuck.

Ever since the advent of civilization

contrivances crafted to measure
days, weeks, months...

years, decades, centuries...
analytical “gifted” anonymous minds,
wrought ever more sophisticated inventions
to divide existence into manageable units.

Now twenty first century Homo sapiens
technological atomic clock work mechanisms

markedly catapulted by quantum leaps

immense degrees of precision

extremely accurate types of devices
linkedin with state of the art electronics.

At this fleeting instant

(approximately 8:18 AM
September 13^th, 2022)
ever so briefly wedged between

what elapsed and future events to arise)

impossible mission to isolate

that illusory present,

not only cuz the herein now

flits away at light speed

(or greater - you're right quite dubious),
but also everywhere within
cosmic space/time continuum

infinite microscopic and

macroscopic events occur.

As an amateur thinker
I feel baffled when pondering

that crude convenient schema

whereby greater minds than mine

devised devices to measure passage of time.

Yours truly can barely articulate

his farfetched dumbfoundedness,

me merely a simple brute

(shortish but not so nasty),

whose permanently creased
furrowed brow courtesy

his scrutinizing noggin

encasing fifty plus shades of gray matter,

whereby one percent bonafide Neanderthal

deoxyribonucleic acid explains

atavistic predilection issuing primal grunting,

when foraging for small (lame) game,

cuz feeble minded twenty first century
run of the mill garden variety Homo sapiens

amuses himself (mentally)
toying with Einsteinian paradigm.

Though barely able to fathom

mind bending and boggling concepts

theoretically linkedin if an object

subjected to travel speed of light

(particularly an objet d'art - ha

think The Persistence of Memory

series of clock paintings by Salvador Dali)

mass becomes infinite

as does energy required to move entity.

Obviously the ability to wrap one's head

(or hands for that matter) around,

humongous (super sized) material essence

filling subsequent seconds, minutes, hours...

defies feasibility to grasp,

neither could ways nor means

allow, enable and provide

any semblance to hold (tangibly) as solid

something so abstract

as a singular moment, yes?

The above (ambiguously stated) thought exercise

equally as challenging where to locate

beginning and/or ending point

upon Möbius strip.