Hi there. Some know me as Honeybuds but my real name is Diane. I have been writing poetry
since I was about 12 years old. When my Mother committed suicide in 1990 (when I was 13),
poetry became a silent friend with no prejudices and a clean slate upon which I could console my
utterly despaired self. Having had a life seemingly endeared to tragedy, I am proud to say I have survived with some poetry that documents a journey filled with Hope. By sharing my poetry, I am hoping to not only help myself, but others who have ever felt alone or anyone who enjoys good poetry.  Not all my poetry is as depressing as a lot of people think.  It is honest...So please if you would, travel along my
Poetry & Prose Page

Mother and child deer
  munching the day away
Crackling leaves underhoof
  blue sky beckoning gray
While the sun gently dips
  behind mountain
Fall begins......


White little prejudiced man
  behind a supersquare desk
And his itty - bitty anus
  twitches and itches
With menial superiority.

Forever seeking
All encompassing
D   R   O   W   N   I   N   G
too long in sorrow
Hahbah Mah

At the Boston "hahbah" Mom,
 I thought about how much you'd love it.
Fish shops out the wazoo
 with water, birds........& peace.
The smell of water but in
 the air,
Yachts swaying to & fro against
 the fall gusted sky...

You were with me,
 in all these things.

Oh good morning
I bid you goodbye on these
The trees wave their understanding
  away to me
As leaves flip by my face.
People run briskly past,
  aware of a passing human spirit,
Ignoring it and crossing the street,
Breathing relief at escape.

I will not curse them,
I wave good-bye
           good-bye morning...


Infinite life sometimes has a very ugly face but
 this face,
It is like clay.
Though sometimes hardened to the core,
 its life evolving trick is
To become soft again--
Perhaps to allow chance to cast a soft eye unto us all.


All this talk about the end of the world
  weighs heavy on me entirely.
I want to teach children poetry first!--
  no, not first.....

Oh Sun, I cry for you and I imagine
  you are already in tears knowing
That one beautiful day, you will have
  to eat all of us up--
Even if we haven't showered yet.....


Floating over the world one night,
 I felt stabs of restlessness all over my body.
And then the poem ended.

A Gem of a Lady
Always will I remember
the essence and scent of her embrace,
her slow motion smile
on a fall day.
I miss her
now she is a dream
floating on windowsills,
singing with the breeze.
I windexed my Mother's picture

Life Cycle
Life is but a snowstorm.
Frozen fragments of life falling upon the ground
make the blanket of snow complete.
Sometimes the wind whips the fragments of life
into a frenzy that will not be stopped
until the wind dies down
and life is but a mere blanket melting
into water that will become
snow again.

A Singular Path

"Why have you forsaken me?" cried the Spirit.

Throughout Time, the force of mystical perseverance has become ignored,
except by the few who have refuted the mediocre minds that
oppose greatness in the most modest of folk.

The meek shall inherit the Earth.

The meek will rise above dreadful solidarity of failure and bend
the knees of the almighty life-force, refusing the compromise
of unending acceptance of THE RULES that are begging to be broken.

I have in my hand my life in all its glory.

Can you see me in front of you and the dreams that turned into
nightmares by the children of rotting crops?
The fresh fruit is juicy and sweet, grasp the ripening of your mind
before the maggots reap the rolling dead on the ground below.

Soon you shall perish and this life will be but a passing of breath--
Make it have meant something in the round ball of dirt and Life.

When the clouds roll over
And cry for the Earth,
I run for cover under the trees,
But the lightening,
It strikes me.

The currents of electric life
Constrict my blood.
My soul vibrates and
Is shaken out of me
And I become the rain.

The tears of the sky
Are me now
And I feel the completely life
Of reincarnation
When I rise from the ground,
  returning to azurity again.

Yes, I know there is an utter
 and shattering sadness—
Killing millions of once
bright Souls, smiles....
And I know my Soul
                  my smiles
Have been long shards
 of cutting mirror
Drawing the liquid glow
 from my center.

I stare down at my reflection and see
Myself in a thousand billion parts--
And I grab the pieces
 of a shattered me
and attempt to finish
          this puzzle
            with shaky &
             bloody hands...

I sometimes wonder what in the world,
I sometimes wonder who in the world,
And sometimes I wonder, just wonder
What is wrong with the world?
Where once life seemed so easy, so clear, so fun,
Has now become a world of no hope and m uch dissension.
And I wonder and will forever wonder until I die,

‘A Jim Morrison

She touched his eyes
                   his mouth
                    on a book cover
And his Sadness
Pulsated through her,
                      As if—
                      It were her own.

His forehead is creased..
    He scrutinized a World,
             that moved too slow

Oh my passion, I have left you
after all you have done for me
And I heard you scream in
the center of my mind.
I'm sorry I tried to muffle you,
But I was busy denying myself the truth,
Even though your voice reaching my heart
and vaccum sucking it inside and out.
You are silent nowadays and
I reach around for you,
Hoping you will
touch my hand & forgive me
But there is no soft hand,
no creative, beautiful words--
When I look, I am blind to your disappointment and
I know you have starved in my absence
How can I let you know
how sorry and incomplete I am...
Without you?

In Thailand circa Vietnam Conflict

Bloody feet,
She walked miles to deliver
 the air-man's laundry.

They were drunk
 on the way home from
 the officer's club...
Pinched her ass—
 but she was too proud
 to cry.
Her head high
soul crushed
she left
floating on pride
and gritting grinning strength.
Their laughs grew faint
in the distance
While a single beauty stared
into a jungled night.

picture of resilience
roots to the core of
magma Earth
So strong
like a sun you are
growing all over
forever strong
turning into wishes
so the hope may fly across
the world....
Thoughts roll off
mind fingers
like raindrops
Here I walk with the past dead
in step
they tell me truths
I must learn
hope that I can
teach those
in thinking they must be
Of Yesterday I Say
I should have been wiser
I could have told her I loved her more
once more..
I played with ants when I was small
couldn't stand humans
so young
so scared
unaware of compromise
VERY aware
of my
maturity weirdness
I tell her I love her
she cannot hear me
does she feel my feelings
I stay inside
on the computer all day
still can't stand humans
so old
still young
oh mama
make it better...
However Far We Travel (to all of my friends)
When we take a stick to the dirt and trace a life, the pebbles and footprints
  are indicriminate and cruel,
Crushing and grinding the lines of a beautiful and innocent path.
The wind will begin to blow and find us searching through the air, finding each other.

I have seen  pain and tears making mud of your life not so long ago and now,
  I shouldn;t pretend to be so strong; thank you for my turn at tears.
Though strength seemed a might trying for you when we were younger, I am
  glad to know your grains have found a place to rest
And taken refuge from the sometimes harsh and bitter wind.

You are my friend for always and though wind will be kincking us up in the future,
  know that you will see me in the sky with you --
Still sharing the strength we created

All poetry is
Diane R. Fornbacher
Please respect my work--
it has often nearly killed me..
More poetry to come...
                                                             Find your mission in life with this online mag.
This candle shines for abused children.
May they one day find the peace
they so deserve.