Like This: from The Mind of A Poet

May 20, 2010 at 11:04 pm (The Mind of a Poet)

There is, as I have mentioned in other discussions, a search in poetry for that which is a sufficient telling–a making of meaning that is adequate, but that also strives for some degree of beauty of language, image, and beauty in the telling itself. One of the ways that we can attempt to achieve this sufficiency of telling is through images rather than the use [or over use in some cases] of simple adjectives. We can attempt to create an image that, itself, is telling or descriptive of something else.  I believe that I have said elsewhere that this is one of the more difficult aspects of writing; in fact, the ability to actually do it and do it well is what separates the want-to-be poets and play-writers from the real poets. Learning to craft an image, let is stand as it is for something else, and to do so in a way that is recognizable and well written is a significant achievement. It is a goal I am still trying to reach. If I ever feel I have actually gotten there, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, this week’s poem is another of my many attempts to develop this particular aspect of the craft. You will also notice that is another poem that was written specifically for the woman I love. She often inspires a theme or an image, but sometimes, I am speaking to her directly…private words in public. This is one of those times.

Like This 
(for Diana)

There is a quiet inlet I know,
like a private harbor, removed
and almost hidden from the main
beaches. The dock is old, weathered 

by winds and salt, yet it is sturdy.
At dusk, sea oats shimmer, herons
perch on the posts as waves slap
the pilings like the ticking of a clock. 

I want to be for you a place like this.

High on a mountain here, a forest-lined
grove hides just beyond a meadow;
ancient trees canopy the mossy ground,
sunlight streams down in cone-like shafts. 

At night, the rising moon seems to rest
in the branching arms of the tall trees;
leaves glisten in the dewy evening glow,
darkness runs to places deeper in the wood. 

I want to be for you a peace like this.

It has been said, you know, that we were joined
in the beginning—two souls formed as one,
lovers side by side in the clay of our creation;
matched, in the before time, each to the other. 

Severed by our birth, we seek recognition,
search for the half-remembered mate until,
at last, in the archaic mirror of the other,
we find ourselves reflected and restored. 

Finally, at last, I bring to you a love like this.  

NOTE:  This work is published here as proprietary and may not be reproduced, distributed, sold, or otherwise utilized outside the posting on this site without the express permission of the author; these works are the sole property of the author writing as Androgynonamous or DreadPirateRobert.


  1. Lady Di said,

    I know that I have days when I flounder, feeling overwhelmed and alone in the enormity of all that lies ahead. This time before my coming home. In truth, I know how steadfast you are and how you yearn for me to be sure of you. You are that solid pier beneath my bare and tender feet. You are that quiet, still place that brings me peace. And you are my anam cara.

    Darling, there IS beauty in your telling and it, as ever, lifts me high.

    I do so love you. Even if I’m trying to tread water rather than reach out to steady myself or I’m wandering the dark of the woods ignoring the moonlight—I do eventually remember that I am not in this alone. That you are my mate and I don’t have to do this alone.

    I thank you.
    Always and in all ways,

    • androgynonamous said,

      Darling Di,
      There is nothing for which to thank me. My desire to be with you, in any way I can, in all you go through, is no different than your desire to be with and give support to me. We have that kind of love, you know–the love that seels to life up the other, to walk beside hand-in-hand, to bear the joy and the cares that make a life shared. And, I do hope to lift you up, to encourage, support, and walk with you, my soul friend. You are not alone. Nor am I. I am, indeed, your mate.
      I am so glad that you like the poem iself. Your reading of it would suggest that it works. Perhaps, I am beginning to learn this craft I am so driven to do…we shall see. I am ever yours, in all ways…Li.

  2. Blazer said,

    Damn! That’s all I’ve got for now. Love you two.

    • androgynonamous said,

      I’m assuming here, buddy, that “damn” means you liked the poem…or was that just the love notes between me and Scin??? HA! Thanks so much. Glad you liked it…or the banter…or both. We love you too!

      • Blazer said,

        “Damn” meant I loved the poem and couldn’t think of anything insightful (or snarky) to say. I am becoming immune to the love notes between you two. You clearly love each other so much that the saccharine saturation has become normal. (Oh look, the snark is back, what a relief!)

      • androgynonamous said,

        Love the snark!! But, saccharine…Really? God, I so hope not…I hope we never end up in the same rotting cask as the saccharine sentimentalists!!! I’m with Scin: Oh, the horror of being a “cute” couple!!!

  3. Lady Di said,

    Saccharine saturation? Oh lord, I’ve become that which I hate the most, part of a “cute” couple! Gack! 😉


    • androgynonamous said,

      Sweetheart, clearly we can’t help it. As you racall, we can’t even go to a deli without: “you too are so adorable, I hate you.” From total strangers, no less. Alas, we are what we are. It is hard to be this adorable and remain humble, but we are bearing up; don’t you think…*grin*

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