The poem in question: Inner Betrayal
Ah, the final poem of 1996. I want to like this poem. I really do. This is a very personal poem to me, but I just feel that it is horribly written. The meter is all wrong, the rhyming is okay but feels forced, and the ideas just don’t flow together very well. In looking over my various copies of this poem, I find up to four different versions of parts of it. This seems to me to emphasize how much I struggled to make this poem work, but it doesn’t seem to have ever come together as I had hoped.
But all is not lost! It was not too long after I first tried a Poetism Redux that I made an attempt on Inner Betrayal, which I will share at the end of this entry. Apparently I still had such strong feelings for how important this poem is and how it needed improvement that I went to it almost straightaway after my first Redux (well, as straightaway as eight days can be considered).
As far as the poem itself goes, the story is straightforward and easy to follow, though by my reading, the final few lines seem to be a bit disconnected from the rest. (And I’m the one who wrote it and knows what I was talking about.)
This poem is about someone who is hiding a secret that he is ashamed of. He knows that he’s done something wrong, but he doesn’t want to admit it, not because of fear of punishment, but because of the shame and embarrassment. I suppose in that light, “unspeakable” may be the wrong word to describe the ill he performed. In any case, he doesn’t want anyone to know.
Then
emotion intervened and made guilt persevere
and he realized he had to get this weight off his chest. There was no alternative if he wanted to feel like he could truly be acceptable to other people. So he started the long, difficult task of repentance and restitution. He struggled long and hard, sometimes wondering if his efforts would all be worth it. After a while he thought he was doing well enough, and instead of keeping up the fight, eased off a bit, and oops! Suddenly he was right back down where he was before; maybe he was even lower.
Not quite understanding how he had fallen so easily, and embarrassed that he had fallen, he decided not to make as valiant an attempt to recover a second time. He essayed a devil-may-care exterior to hide his chagrin, and eventually discovered that by pretending all was well and nothing needed fixing–while continuing his aberrant behavior–he was removing himself further and further from help and recovery. It would not be impossible, should he try again, but it would certainly be much, much harder the longer he let it go.
It is somewhat ironic is that I can clearly remember the real-life details that inspired this poem, but I cannot bring myself to describe them more clearly than I have in this commentary.
Now I’d like to point out the differences in the various copies of the poem I have lying about. To make it easier to follow, I’ll note the differences as compared to the version published on this site by referencing stanzas and line numbers, e.g. (2-5) represents stanza 2, line 5.
Handwritten copy
(1-3) He kept it unrevealed for a year or two
Till it nearly mastered all his will.
(2-6) And was troubled no more for a time.
(3-3) For a long time he hid behind his mask
(3-7) He’d forgotten how to respond to care
While trying to rationalize self-wrought pain.
Electronic copy 1
(1-4) Until it nearly mastered all his will.
(2-3) He oft thought it wasn’t worth the effort to return;
The process seemed of interminable length.
Then he thought he mastered the cause of the ill
And troubled no more with it for a time,
(3-1) For a while thereafter he was puzzled and confused,
But he placed confusion behind insincerity.
For a long time he hid behind his mask
(3-5) He remembered things that had caused so much grief
And then a thought of horror entered into his brain:
He’d forgotten how to respond to those who cared for him
While trying to rationalize his self-wrought pain.
Electronic copy 2
(1-7) When emotion intervened and made guilt seem so strong
That he felt no one could do anything worse.
(2-2) And took very nearly every ounce of the man’s strength.
He often thought it wasn’t worth the effort to return;
The process seemed of interminable length.
Then he thought he mastered the cause of the ill,
And troubled no more with it for a time,
But letting down his guard proved somewhat fatal,
And he fell down the other side of the arduous climb.
For a while thereafter he was puzzled and confused,
But he placed confusion behind insincerity.
For a period of months he hid behind his mask,
‘Til a vision of the past hit with startling clarity.
He remembered bits and pieces that had caused so much grief
And then a thought of horror entered into his brain:
He’d forgotten how to respond to those who cared for him
In his effort to rationalize his self-wrought pain.
It’s interesting to see that more than two-thirds of the lines of Electronic Copy 2 contain (sometimes quite) different wording, as do just under half the lines of Electronic Copy 1. The handwritten copy is the most similar, with less than one-third of the lines differing.
The difference prize, however, goes to “Inner Betrayal Redux,” which I shall now unveil for your reading pleasure. It’s dated October 10, 2006–almost 10 years after the original (whichever of the four versions is the original, anyway).
I knew a man upon a time, not too long ago,
Who hid within himself his crimes and ills.
He kept them secret, unrevealed, as long as he could go,
And sometimes tries to keep them, still.
He tried to keep the pain away that feasted on his soul
While feeling every moment he might burst,
But emotion intervened and guilt swooped down to kill
And he felt that no one else could have it worse.
He made his restitution, best as he knew how;
It took him nearly every ounce of strength.
He often thought he should give up, unworthy to return,
And the process seemed to be of endless length.
A time passed, and he thought he was now master,
And was troubled no longer–for a while.
He avoided constant vigilance
And fell back down his arduous climb.
He now was only puzzled and confused,
But clothed himself in insincerity.
Again he hid behind his mask
Until vision came with startling clarity.
Suddenly, things that caused him so much grief became so clear,
And a new nightmare came into his brain:
He could no longer respond to others’ care
Because he sought to justify his self-wrought pain.
I think “Redux” starts out strong, and begins to stumble on the meter in the second half. Some of the rhyming is still a bit forced. However, overall, I think it is a great improvement over the original (any of them) and I think I can finally say that I am nearly satisfied with this poem.
Poetism Commentary: "Inner Betrayal"
The poem in question: Inner Betrayal
Ah, the final poem of 1996. I want to like this poem. I really do. This is a very personal poem to me, but I just feel that it is horribly written. The meter is all wrong, the rhyming is okay but feels forced, and the ideas just don’t flow together very well. In looking over my various copies of this poem, I find up to four different versions of parts of it. This seems to me to emphasize how much I struggled to make this poem work, but it doesn’t seem to have ever come together as I had hoped.
But all is not lost! It was not too long after I first tried a Poetism Redux that I made an attempt on Inner Betrayal, which I will share at the end of this entry. Apparently I still had such strong feelings for how important this poem is and how it needed improvement that I went to it almost straightaway after my first Redux (well, as straightaway as eight days can be considered).
As far as the poem itself goes, the story is straightforward and easy to follow, though by my reading, the final few lines seem to be a bit disconnected from the rest. (And I’m the one who wrote it and knows what I was talking about.)
This poem is about someone who is hiding a secret that he is ashamed of. He knows that he’s done something wrong, but he doesn’t want to admit it, not because of fear of punishment, but because of the shame and embarrassment. I suppose in that light, “unspeakable” may be the wrong word to describe the ill he performed. In any case, he doesn’t want anyone to know.
Then
and he realized he had to get this weight off his chest. There was no alternative if he wanted to feel like he could truly be acceptable to other people. So he started the long, difficult task of repentance and restitution. He struggled long and hard, sometimes wondering if his efforts would all be worth it. After a while he thought he was doing well enough, and instead of keeping up the fight, eased off a bit, and oops! Suddenly he was right back down where he was before; maybe he was even lower.
Not quite understanding how he had fallen so easily, and embarrassed that he had fallen, he decided not to make as valiant an attempt to recover a second time. He essayed a devil-may-care exterior to hide his chagrin, and eventually discovered that by pretending all was well and nothing needed fixing–while continuing his aberrant behavior–he was removing himself further and further from help and recovery. It would not be impossible, should he try again, but it would certainly be much, much harder the longer he let it go.
It is somewhat ironic is that I can clearly remember the real-life details that inspired this poem, but I cannot bring myself to describe them more clearly than I have in this commentary.
Now I’d like to point out the differences in the various copies of the poem I have lying about. To make it easier to follow, I’ll note the differences as compared to the version published on this site by referencing stanzas and line numbers, e.g. (2-5) represents stanza 2, line 5.
Handwritten copy
Electronic copy 1
Electronic copy 2
It’s interesting to see that more than two-thirds of the lines of Electronic Copy 2 contain (sometimes quite) different wording, as do just under half the lines of Electronic Copy 1. The handwritten copy is the most similar, with less than one-third of the lines differing.
The difference prize, however, goes to “Inner Betrayal Redux,” which I shall now unveil for your reading pleasure. It’s dated October 10, 2006–almost 10 years after the original (whichever of the four versions is the original, anyway).
I think “Redux” starts out strong, and begins to stumble on the meter in the second half. Some of the rhyming is still a bit forced. However, overall, I think it is a great improvement over the original (any of them) and I think I can finally say that I am nearly satisfied with this poem.