[1380] The Ideal

This is where I came from.
I passed this way.
This should not be shameful
Or hard to say.

A self is a self.
It is not a screen.
A person should respect
What he has been.

This is my past
Which I shall not discard.
This is the ideal.
This is hard.

 	-- James Fenton

An reader (who wishes to remain anonymous) sent me this poem, saying "I
loved it - it's concise, but it speaks volumes." I loved it too, if for a
slightly different reason - this is one of those poems that appears to be
drifting on aimlessly, until you reach the ending, and the whole suddenly
crystallises. The final two lines,

  This is the ideal.
  This is hard.

not only form a wonderful conclusion to the poem, but by their minimalist
form lead the reader to reevaluate the language and form of the previous
verses. Viewed in isolation, the second verse tends perilously close to
doggerel; as part of a larger whole the awkward construction only reinforces
the 'voice' of the poem.

Note the somewhat unusual use of rhyme and metre to give the poem an
*unpolished* air (or, perhaps 'unsophisticated' is a better word) - contrast
this with Poem #186, which claims to do this, but does not.

martin

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