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....)

[raining]

well, you could become emily dickenson. live in a house in amherst and be very consistant.

all of her honesty, her destinations always turning around to inhabit her and her solitude.... but is that any way to live. (?)

i have a feeling old emily dickenson had a secret life (i mean really secret, secret secret) like she had a trampoline in the celler, with handcuffs and red light bulbs... you think? and when verlane or hawthorne or some stuffed up great poet came to visit they let their hair down and touched the light fandango.

oh never mind.

[Anthony M Smith Jr]

Interesting. Too be so caught up in words is something. Like I was always told, "Actions speak louder than words!"

[Hedra Helix]

Hello! I love this! you're so elegant here and graceful.... so if you don't mind I'll give you a real review and stick it to you so you can see my read. ;P

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. {dope!} 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 love that!} I wonder if I have the necesary maps and charts to get to 'honesty'. {this last sentence seems abrupt to me, - the meaning of it in line with the thought of the sentence before it- maybe a space between or a slight rewording at the end of the sentence to link its eventuality to the meaning of the sentence before it.}

Honesty is a pre-requisite for what? Women are notorious for creating a more beautiful honest. {love that sentence} We can thank Eve and her shiny, { to me that's an odd comma}red apple for the beginnings of the rambling half-truths. And if I'm not what you think I am, and frankly, some days I couldn't say for sure, I wonder if {-> look at that, I space should then remove I} Ishould I put up disclaimers? Truth-in-advertising: "she's not quite sure what she ought to be". Or something like that. { that's a killer way to end that!;)}

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? 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 . . . { I love this overall its beautiful, very you, I can see how what you take and what you like in what you write.}

[Alya Usman]

It's more of an account than a story. The vocabulary is great and the overall impact is nice. =]

[Jibey]

We are what we are at any moment, it seems to me. I truthfully feel things but then I may feel something else on another day. It's like Keats' adage: 'Beauty is truth and truth is beauty'... A painting may not be true to life but it may be beautiful and therefore true. I hope I am beautiful sometimes...

[Lola Nation]

I agree with Ed, I tried not to read what he wrote before I "responded" but I couldn't help it and all these light seeking truth writers ... have to experience the fallacies, the lies, the disbelief, the regret, the vengence, the sad truth and the gift of knowing... no, it's not all "truth" ... we're all partly fiction.

[bluessadmood]

This is not foolish what you say here Emily dear..
What I understood from your words ,that you find yourself bound by certain type of writings
I dont think its so..in this world of creativity there is no honesty and I dont mean to be something like a crook in writing ..oh no
But while writing you have to be free ,boundless to write anything that your mind will take you
if you are restricted to any boundaries then your writings will come short and incomplete
in order to create beauties you have to let yourself go where ever it takes you..you have no choice in it
this job of writing is just this way ,there is no other way to it..I hope I was clear
I loved your thoughts..they made me think a lot too
lovely write..