My Poem is accepted for "The Love Book"">My Poem is accepted for "The Love Book"
Published September 8, 2010 | 
">Bruce WhealtonThe poem appears below. I’ll get details soon as to how to order copies and where it is being published, etc.
Captivated
For Elnaz Rezaei Ghalechi
You are the river
that flows through me
like relaxation…
the place I go
for comfort…
the dream that inspires me
and reminds me
of those things I had forgotten
and everything
I see
hear
and feel
is some part
of you.
To be in your presence
is to be
in trance.
By Bruce Whealton
My poetry was published at Venus Rising not long ago">My poetry was published at Venus Rising not long ago
Published May 24, 2009 | ">Bruce WhealtonI had not recorded this or mentioned this on my blog, I don’t think. So, I thought now would be a good time to do so. These poems were published in Venus Rising by John Marshall. The poems of mine that were published are as follows: “I wrote a love poem once,” “Not even footprints,” and “In the Dream.” I’ll post those poems below as well.
I wrote a love poem once.
I wrote a love poem Once… heard it was good – the love… the love poem. It was 10 years ago or more lost - I lost that in the fire, as it were, the love… the love poem. I forget how it goes the love… the love poem. I just cannot remember the words I wrote. But I know I wrote a love poem, Once. - Bruce Whealton 2008Not Even Footprints
Sometimes it seems that I’m just writing these words On the sand, (Like in that quaint picture, Called “Footprints in the sand.”) With the wind in my face… Is that all there is now? Words that fade as fast as I write them? My words as dry as the sand That blows in my face, Blinding me. If only I could get you to look, Before my words are lost. In my vision, the sand doesn’t even Hold any image of my footprints… As if I’d never come here, And never written these words. Or it never mattered what I said, You would not hear or see. Bruce Whealton 2007In the Dream
In the dream I'm walking along a familiar wooded path trees above block out most of the sunlight. I come upon a small patch of pansies I bend down to look closer she appears She reaches out her hand How strange to touch a ghost! We walk hand-in-hand with pansies appearing along the path like spectators in a wedding procession. © 2006 Bruce Whealton, Jr.
Trying to make an Old Love Poem work – poem by Bruce Whealton">Trying to make an Old Love Poem work – poem by Bruce Whealton
Published March 26, 2009 | ">Bruce WhealtonWith the help of my co-editor for Word Salad, Jean Jones and his edits to a longer poem, I came up with this new poem. One could consider this either a new poem or a revision of another.
Trying to make an old love poem work
I think that what makes this poem powerful to me, is the scene that I capture, it lasts just a moment but only now, 17 years later, did it hit me, what it is about. In the scene, three of us are walking in a small field - the girl I loved, myself and her friend, that we had come to visit. We came upon a swing and as I remember it, I’m in front of her pushing her gently… It wasn’t the way her hair was caught in the sunlight in front of me, it wasn’t the smooth calming, undulating motion of the swing. It was what happened in that moment. For a moment there, one hypnotic moment, looking into each other's eyes, how long, I don’t know, half a minute or ten minutes, and everything faded from my awareness and I knew she was aware of nothing else, as well. I remember.
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