Honest Confessions – Poetry by Bruce Whealton">Honest Confessions – Poetry by Bruce Whealton
Published June 5, 2009 | 
">Bruce WhealtonHere’s a revised poem, that I wrote a few years back, called “Honest Confessions.” I end this latest revision with the lines, “I am a poem/ revised too many times.
Honest Confessions
I've been explaining myself over and over and again, to you, my sister, my brother - My reader - confessing some of my deepest secrets. I left a nice home... Yet I have nothing against the beaches I left, with those hypnotic waves that kept me still and steady how much better to nurture a poet than any other place. Why leave or move to anywhere? Is there anything about a place that defines what a poet becomes? Perhaps, it's through the persons we meet that we become who we are. Psychiatrist, Dr. R. D. Laing explains that I am defined by my social interactions. I am a poem revised too many times. By Bruce Whealton - revised June 5, 2009
Nothing More Did I Want – poem by Bruce Whealton">Nothing More Did I Want – poem by Bruce Whealton
Published April 13, 2009 | ">Bruce WhealtonNothing more did I want
Memories seem to take a great deal of courage to face... let me catch my breath and I'll explain. How can I show you what I see? Or feel what I feel? I remember the beach we visited... those nights spent doing nothing. This was unusual for me; I usually felt so busy but this was different. I remember those beaches where happiness was finding a new way to hold her and be with her or be held by her... Happiness was so easy then. By Bruce Whealton - April 13, 2009
Posted in Bruce Whealton, poetry by Bruce Whealton | 
beaches, Bruce Whealton, memories | 
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