A very rewarding task
(a haiku, in honor of the season)

Pull up cardboard tab
Rip open plastic wrapper
Girl Scout Cookies, yum!

As you can probably tell, I'm a bit blocked when it comes to this title. :blush: I really don't like any of the ideas that pop into my head. Too formulaic, too dark, too sappy, too simple, too whathaveyou. Hmm. I can't tell if I'm censoring myself or if I really just don't have any good ideas.

This may just be a week where I don't participate...we'll see.

As any Sisyphus will tell you
There are some tasks that will never be accomplished.
Laundry, dishes, cleaning house
The mundane maintenance of our daily lives.

Yet we put them on our to-do lists
Rejoicing when we cross them off
Only to add them back on
Later in the week.

Most tasks are undone and redone
Even the great one's:
Monuments, revolutions, whole civilizations
Sometimes for better, sometimes for worse.

The only task we accomplish with finality
is the living of our lives
Something we'll never appreciate
when it's completed.

^^ Wow! That's really wonderful!

Awesome! :)

You just gave me an excuse to not do a lick of housework today! It's a beautiful day oustside. I'm going to tie on my old school roller skates and take a whirl. A few mimosas beforehand might make it even more interesting. :eek:

Now that's inspiration!!

Happy to oblige ;)

- Bringing you hedons, where ever you are :cheers:

Happiness is a loaded nailgun, and lots of stuff to hang

I bow to your wisdom, great guru of swank!

:cool:

Chris, I really loved this. Thanks.

In response to the Cark Jung challenge,
 

and inspired by my filthy glasses, the lenses of which never seem to stay clean...

Tortoise Shell Negotiators

Without the glass, it is a meaningless interstice
Between my face and what’s in front;
The lenses through which I view this country askew
Are necessaries that right the angles and sharpen crystallized light
Into objects I can identify with the weaker of my senses

Essential to me is this unblurring that
Happily erases the halo from this world;
Me, I like my sinning in sharp focus
Me, I like the hedonistic throng of Man
That flails against that which would puppet master our inhibitions

I want to inebriate the populace with language,
The vibrancy of a human thought in voice or ink:
Word with a lowercase ‘w’, and not in anyone’s name but Ours

I want to drink the nectar of happenstance,
I want to get so sick on luck and coincidence,
Vomit up the definitions I have for “fate", “destiny”,
And the rascally “expectation”

So I’m thankful for these glasses that let me see the world
In its way and mine, though it’s a wrestling act each time
I blink the crying back

And possibly it’s true that I’ve been given rare visions
Of things as I would have them be and not as they are,
But I wonder if these moderators,
Between my face and what’s in front,
Make me a hostage to my inner dreams and thoughts

Also in the wondering,
Do other people’s glasses gather up the world refuse as mine do?
It’s as if all the grime and speck of life need a place to rest
And have taken a shine to me -
Sweat that’s condensed and grease from the forelock,
Ash, muck, fingerprint and glue

The filthy detritus of bodies keeping my loneliness company,
Fvcking up my pretty views