Poet Adrienne Rich writes of her polarities
in a piece called Integrity.
“Anger and tenderness: my selves.
And now I can believe they breathe in me
as angels, not polarities.”
My polarities will not talk,
they’re like a stubborn Congress
at odds, arms folded, looking outward
with staunch backs.
My polarities are anima/animus,
male/female, Independent Spirit/Romantic.
The Independent One fights for freedom,
suspicious of men, untrusting, protective.
Her adversary, the Romantic,
bows before her lover in
sweetness and benediction: his goddess,
Oh, these two give me fits with their
contrariness, the one sabotaging the other
in spite and desperation.
And I, the tired referee, who just wants
peace and a man whom I can love without
all their drama.
Adrienne is lucky. Where are my angels?