Diamond Lies

Poetry Thursday's idea this week: "Write down 10 objects, then construct a lie about each...The point: to help flex your creative muscles. Creative writing is all about lying."

I'm a little disturbed to see fiction referred to as "lying". I've written at length here about the importance of fiction and imagination to art in general and poetry in particular-- and also about the dangers of conflating fiction with lying. Let me mention one point here:

The difference between fiction and lying is that fiction rests on an agreement between author/poet and audience. What I am about to tell you is not factually true: however, it is entertaining, or instructive, or illustrates some point I'm trying to make.

Fiction is not intended to deceive. Lying is. We lose sight of that difference at our peril.

More about fiction at Terrain.org.

What's that?-- oh, yes-- this valuable ring
has been in my family for many, many years,
given to Granddad by a grateful King
for saving his son from Cetsewayo's spears--

No, I forget-- that was another stone.
This one was buried in some ancient tomb.
Great-grandpa found it, under vengeful bones
whose curses shriveled Grandma in the womb--

No, no-- this ring-- what ring? My hand is bare.
Only the finger shows the faint mark of a band.
Unnoticed now, I sit alone and stare
at my unstoried, ringless, empty hands.

No ring. No hand. No story to deceive you.
What use to lie, if no-one will believe you?