I am re-reading Leaves of Grass.
I read it once a long time ago,
When his passionate words made my virgin cheeks blush.
Now I picture that Walt Whitman is sitting on my front porch with me.
His long gray beard is softly moving with the words on the page.
I try to pry deeper to understand him more.
I always thought Walt Whitman was such a brave poet.
And he was in many ways...
He was controversial, opinionated, and passionate.
(not to mention being a nurse in the Civil War)
But he still hid some portions of his life in the innuendos of Song of Myself.
We still don't really know the details behind the poems.
Sometimes, I write about very personal things.
It scares me.
It feels as if I am lying naked on the computer screen for the world to see.
Some of my thoughts, feelings and fantasies are so private,
I would rather post a naked picture of myself than have those thoughts shared with the world.
The security of poetry is that you can relay deep emotions without the details.
It is a lack of details that makes me feel secure in my writing.
But I am still a timorous poet,
Wishing to draw from Walt Whitman's strength.