honesty is something

sometimes I think the words write me

Twice in the last week writers have used the word "honest" to describe our ideal destination in writing poetry. I think the Universe may be trying to tell me something here. I am not honest. Not that I would lie; I am generally truthful. I am, after all, a veritable silver-tongued chameleon of epic proportions. I tease and charm and flaunt classification on gossamer butterfly wings. I draw my heart's ache on the page knowing full well that the emotion is fleeting and will change when the winds do. I barely recognize the truth at all from one day to another. I wonder if I have the necesary maps and charts to get to 'honesty'.

 

Honesty is a pre-requisite for what? Women are notorious for creating a more beautiful honest. We can thank Eve and her luscious, red apple for the beginnings of our rambling half-truths. And if I'm not what you think I am, and frankly, some days I couldn't say for certain, I wonder if I should I put up disclaimers? Truth-in-advertising: "she's not quite sure what she ought to be". Or something like that.

 

I am so many different things to so many different people. But who can say for sure exactly what I am? What if every thing changes with the weather? How do we pare down the honest moments? Because that's all they really are, fleeting little images with a sliver of truth that are subject to change at any given time. How do we create honesty? Shouldn't it be stolid as stone and immune from transformation?

 

And, somehow, I think when these words grow up and blow away, they will leave a shiny, little poem in their place . . .

Author's Note

just foolishness, that's all

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

When your eye ("I") is single, your whole being is filled with light... You want to know what honesty is? Honesty is being true to who you are. We give over playing games. We catch ourselves closer and closer to the game player in our hearts, until finally, there's hardly a burp before we go our way.... ("If to thine own self", etc., etc....)

[Tony]

You have created some great poetic lines in this piece. I think in writing this you are being as honest as you can be and if you are being dishonest...who cares? We love what you write, all that really matters Sweet Emily.

Tony

[Clyde Grauke]

A very interesting piece you have written here. I think maybe you ended with what could be a good next step:

"And, somehow, I think when these words grow up and blow away, they will leave a shiny, little poem in their place . . ."

I think you have several very good poems, or least several very tight poetic prose possibilities, partially visible and intermixed here among several backward and forth contemplative considerations, unfortunately for me anyway, the end result of the mixture is less focused than you clearly are capable of producing. Your poetic phrases are resoundingly excellent. Maybe some examples of at least some groupings that come to my mind:

"I am...after all, a veritable silver-tongued chameleon of epic proportions. I tease and charm and flaunt classification on gossamer butterfly wings. I draw my heart's ache on the page knowing full well that the emotion is fleeting and will change when the winds do. I barely recognize the truth at all from one day to another. I wonder if I have the necesary maps and charts to get to 'honesty'." ; "What if every thing changes with the weather? How do we pare down the honest moments? Because that's all they really are, fleeting little images with a sliver of truth that are subject to change at any given time."

Then another:

"How do we pare down the honest moments? How do we create honesty? Shouldn't it be stolid as stone and immune from transformation?" ; "I am not honest. Not that I would lie; I am generally truthful." ; "Women are notorious for creating a more beautiful honest. We can thank Eve and her luscious, red apple for the beginnings of our rambling half-truths. "I am so many different things to so many different people. But who can say for certain? What if every thing changes with the weather? ... fleeting little images with a sliver of truth that are subject to change at any given time."

I hope this doesn't look like an attempt at a re-write. I am just trying to show some possibilities I see in your nuggets of truth and your honest attempt to look at honesty.

[Tim H]

Beautiful imagery spun with well turned phrases. Philosophers have debated and cogitated on the subject for many a mellennia, For me it is found with a GPS, hip boots, shovel and a flashlight for any so inclined to engage in the dirty job. Honestly.

[Collect-Eye]

I always knew there was something fishy about you..jk

interesting piece to ponder. [=

[Phibby Venable]

i love this emily, it is perfect! it is beautiful lies in the face of truth that sometimes
happens. One man's truth may be another man's lie. This is a wonderful piece.!

[Dezaraye]

I relate to this in both a simplistic way and a much deeper very meaningful way. We don't lack honesty because we lie, but when things change. Everything changes constantly ... and honesty, though a very definable word is not a very definable concept.

[Raef C. Boylan]

Sorry, that wasn't even a review, it was just me yammering on.
I liked how you've written this, I like the questions you pose throughout.
I enjoyed the first paragraph - I think it's delf-deprecating but maybe it's not.
"Not that I would lie; I am generally truthful. I am, after all, a veritable silver-tongued chameleon of epic proportions." It made me smile. Hope that's ok.

[Raef C. Boylan]

For me, honesty in writing is key...but now I've read your piece and starting properly thinking about it...I'm not sure what I mean by that. At 15, I thought I'd written my first 'honest' poem and it filled me with pride. At the time, what that meant, was that I'd captured a thought that I genuinely cared about [and that it didn't rhyme haha...I was all about the corny rhyme back in the day]
What I think I mean is...not faking it, not pretending the world is prettier than it is
AND YET
fiction
fantasy
so who am I kidding?
If the world is bleak, and all we have to read is bleak
then surely we'd be heading for mass suicide.

Andrea Gibson: "I've heard poets telling lies...that made me believe in heaven."

If your main character hits their thumb with a hammer, they'll most likely say "s**t" instead of "oh dear". I guess that's a form of honesty [which I stole from Stephen King's 'On Writing' - I agree with most of what he says about honest writing, I can't help that].

Hmm. It all seemed simple 20 minutes ago.
Thanks for making me think, Emily.

[Jonhoi Vaughn]

"And, somehow, I think when these words grow up and blow away, they will leave a shiny, little poem in their place . . ."

This line is true. Everything else in the story is a path to it. Honesty is partly perception. Take for instance, the Author's note. Is that honest? It has rhythm like a poem, I love it. You can't help but be a poet :-) But if you feel like you really need to... Fix up this baby and please notify me!

[Touché Armada]

I was gonna comment Em.. but I cant top raining even in my current mood.. too good too good =P

yep I mean this write I do really, seriously :D