the habit of livingness 12/1/19

oh how to escape 

the malaise of the habits I’m in.

recognition anesthetizes my sensory aware.

simplistic account overwhelms this observation style.

my fetch is for expectation’s claim.

keynotes, as thoughts, pop up as directives.

duly-noted is a passing internally unsaid remark.

the rush of the day is then 

all about the surface of superficial,

sequentials without outstanding or spontaneous takes.

habits are a lockdown of past intentions delivered.

they reduce relevancy and poignancy to a glaze.

focus is reduced to focus on the focus

but the focus, itself, is just now,

only the cues to account for the focus

but not the singular intention 

dedicated to the focus

as the originality of habits have gathered a dull gloss.

topping their first-take childlike sincerity

with an inattentive passage in a cursory manner.

not yet, the vain of superficial

but also somewhat the head-in-the-sand of continuance.

just habits without headlights,

rituals reduced to mannerisms’ status, 

dressed for almost comatose completions,

and the tizzy of muteness, phasing as ongoing.

what ever happened to the match-head on the moment?

the assuredness of the burst-forth into creative attention

that produced an origin for habit

from the ranks of being the person of consciousness?

the dance of doing following the melody 

and pronouncing the rhythm of habit, taking form?

I want the dungeon to get up and fly,

the drudgery to grow wings,

the dreariness to gain sky-sight

and the dismal resolve to give up the ghost.

I don’t want to live for novelty as nourishment.

I want to be inwardly sacred,

the whirling dervish of doing to exist within,

for resourcefulness to be the animation driver,

for habit to be its own richness of being

and not so much the notion of escape

but more so, 

for habit to be the livingness of alive . . .