A poem for those artists seeking an Ideal Audience

This poem reminds me of the stranger poems by Walt Whitman.  The poet does not want to talk to a lot of people at the same time.  She just wants to establish an intimate relationship with one.  This is the dream of an artist. To establish a connection with the one who gets the art.  Even if there is only one.  And the one who is reading knows, that there are at least 2 entities with that relationship -- the poet and the reader. 

Ideal Audience

by Kay Ryan



Not scattered legions,
not a dozen from
a single region 
for whom accent
matters, not a seven-
member coven,
not five shirttail
cousins; just
one free citizen--
maybe not alive
now even--who
will know with
exquisite gloom 
that only we two
ever found this room.

This morning I was reading this Kay Ryan short poem --  Ideal Audience. It’s only fourteen lines, but it hit me like a secret that was waiting for me:

"just
one free citizen—
maybe not alive
now even—who
will know with
exquisite gloom
that only we two
ever found this room."

That line—“only we two ever found this room”—made me sit still for a while.

It reminded me of those poems by Walt Whitman where he’s supposedly writing to “America” or “the multitudes,” but really, he’s whispering to you. The one who happens to be listening. The one who gets it. The one who’s still enough to feel the breath between the words.

There’s something about that dream—the dream of an artist—not to reach the masses, but to make one true connection. Just one. It’s comforting, really. It takes the pressure off. You're not trying to go viral. You're trying to go real.

Kay Ryan isn’t interested in “scattered legions” or “a dozen from a single region.” She’s not putting on a show. She's just leaving the door to a quiet room slightly ajar. You can come in, if you know how to knock.

That intimacy—that quiet knowing—reminded me of a Shabad by Kabir:

"Hum tum beech bhayo nahi koyi"
No one comes between you and me.
There is no groom like you,
no soul-bride like me.
Kabir says—who cares about people!

That last line always makes me smile. Who cares about people! It's not rude. It’s just honest. When the connection is real, you don’t need a crowd to validate it.

Guru Arjan echoes the same spirit in a more devotional tone:

"Ja tu mere val hai"
If you are on my side,
who else do I need?

It’s the same room. The same whisper. The same dream. Whether it’s Kay Ryan or Kabir or Guru Arjan or Whitman, the artist—or the soul—is just trying to reach the one.

Maybe that one is you.

Maybe you’re the one reading this, nodding quietly, knowing we’ve both found this room. And maybe, like Kay Ryan says, “not alive now even”— maybe it doesn’t even matter when.

Just that we found it. Just that we’re here.

Together.


The Room No One Booked
- Shivpreet Singh

It wasn’t on the map,
this room behind the laundry chute
at the back of my mind—
no sign, no welcome mat,
just a lamp flickering
like a moth’s last wish.

You came without knocking,
carrying a sandwich and a story
about lovers who got lost.

We didn’t need names.
We didn’t say much.
We sang that one evening—
and you never left.


Further Readings: 


No one can come between you and me
There is no groom like you
there is no soul bride like me. 
Kabir says, who cares about people!


If you are on my side
then who else do I need?


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