Two Deceptions Comments
both are like the falling leaves
a tale that no one ever believes
a passing season and a lover
...
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death is the breast of darkest night. a western moon fades from sight.speel binding., so rhythmic and accurate to the event.it is about one evnt but appears to be about on emillin events.it comes directly to heart as an arrow.
In total agreement with Daniel! Also, I sense it may have been partially inspired by William Blake. Such a profound poem! Vivid imagery. And what a beautiful graphic! A magnificent write! Totally worthy of Poem Of The Day! Congratulations, Barry!
Thank you Richard, If there is a Blake influence, I am unaware. But subliminally we are not always aware of our inspiration's source. I often write something and then say to myself, where did that come from?
A ten, a congratulations and a share on Facebook..Lovely poem..
Congratulations on poem if the day and a wonderful poem at that.
Thank you Sarah. I don't know how they choose these poems of the day but is great to one of my poems exposed to a wider audience. I appreciate the positive comment.
a passing season and a lover coming and going of perfume revolves in an enchanted room till love consumes a fevered heart death is the breast of darkest night A beautiful poem describing the temporary nature of earthly thins and experiences. Amazing imagery...coming and going of perfume.. like passing seasons. Thanks poet for sharing so nice a poem. Congrats for being awarded. 10+++ for it. Subhas
Robert Bly said, the poems we write nudge our lives forward, that is, poetry is future-oriented. But at the same time poetry can be past-oriented in tone and vocabulary. I appreciate both qualities in your poetry. I read your poems as part of the Wisdom Tradition which included Chinese Taoist poets, Japanese Haiku masters, SUFI poets of the worlds of Islam, Romantic Age poets throughout 19th western lit. I'm not saying you are imitating these past poets, but rather there is ethos you share with them, it is a depth of meaning and an eloquence of expression embodied in words. This is not hyperbole. I find almost immediately when I read. one of your poems. It's in the opening stanza of this poem in which you give us three images of the deceptions of the title, images of allure drawn from nature and human affairs. The last two stanzas are a unit of eloquence which is pitch perfect. You cite seasons, love longings, and lies (about ourselves perhaps, our self-image) as examples of these deceptions, but the imagery of the last stanza, which is expressed in beautiful language, is highly ambiguous; nit vague, ambiguous - open to multiple meanings. And that ambiguity itself enriches your poem: there is always another meaning in a poem for those who seek it, it doesn't contradict or eliminate meanings closer to the surface, it may not even be expressible in words - that is the wisdom level a poem can take us to.
You gotit down perfectly Daniel.The antique lies and ambiguity are completely intentional, the reader can choose what to believe. Thanks for the critique and praise.
Nothing lasts forever. even love and the seasons. Awesome drop. Thanks for posting.
A lovely poem on the transitory nature of seasons and love that do not last forever
A lovely poem Barry. As much as we wish to hold back time on those treasured moments........Congratulations for poem of the day
Thank you Simone. And no, there is no referee and we can't stop the clock.
A great pick of the day. Amazing imagery. Congrats Barry. A10
Thank you so much Nosheen, you are one of my dearest readers. Please see my personal message below.
A well imaginative and perceptive poem having stunning expression has been portrayed nicely. The love and the time both are transients. You have inscribed this in beginning.... it may be quoted here... both are like the falling leaves a tale that no one ever believes a passing season and a lover.. Thanks for sharing and congratulations for being selected as the poem of the day. Dear Barry, from your personal message I knew and I am very sorry that you are suffering from cancer. I am praying God for you to come round soon. Don't be hopeless my dear, go on creating new skyscrapers of poems.
Thanks Kumarmani, I am far from hopeless, I plan to live life till it ends and then... I'll find out.
This is a poem to be appreciated in it's entirety. Well structured and clearly expressed. Congratulations! ! !
coming and going of perfume revolves in an enchanted room till love consumes a fevered heart death is the breast of darkest night a western moon fades from sight surrendered to its mausoleum- - - - - -'Çoming and going of perfume', I like this imagery that the essence we love is not to stay for ever.It is the transitory nature of life, Nothing permanent, yet we love to cling to the essence that once enchanted our life.Congratulations again for being selected Poem of the Day.
Thank you Bharati, glad you liked the poem, I appreciate your comments.
a very perceptive poem of human emotions and how they both help and hinder in our lives? .....................well written Barry.
Congratulations.Love consuming a fevered heart is a rare thought process. and brilliant.
PERSONAL MESSAGE: I'm going to take this opportunity to say how grateful I am to those who read my poetry. Many of you know, but many do not know, that I have stage four lung cancer metastasized to the brain. For the last eight months a new lesion has appeared in my brain and continues to grow. Treatment options are too bleak and while I might change my mind I am opting for only palliative treatment at this time. I feel good and will continue to write and respond as best as I can. So forgive me if I do not respond to every comment. The doctors do not know how long I've got and they wont guess but I know I have used up 2.5 years of a 1 to 5 year life expectancy and a very small percentage make it to 5 years. Please don't flood my inbox but I want you all to know how much your readership means to me and what I am dealing with. Thank you all, my international kind and dear readers.
Very nice poem. I like it, but I find it difficult to read, to appreciate, as a contemporary piece. Much of the diction is quite dated giving the feeling of this poem coming from a time long past. A time when overt poeticizing was far more come and acceptable. This in no way makes it a bad poem, only a little disorienting temporally. Art should be timeless, and the sentiments here aspire nobly to that, but language and style does change and evolve. So maybe it's just another technique here to further embellish the transitory nature of the topic and the wish, or desire, to live in the past as it were. But overtly casting a simile in the first line robs so much power from the subject for me, it makes the attack too oblique. But I suppose precisely that softness was being sought to set the stage for this poem.
Most of the time Lantz, I make no attempt to be contemporary. I subscribed to Poetry Magazine for years and contemporary poetry seemed to become so academic and obtuse that I quit reading it and let my subscription lapse. I do indeed live in the past for many reasons and I write for myself and not for art or the ages. Many years ago, however, I learned to value and consider criticism from serious people whom I respect. Just want you to know that I do value your comments and now I'll look very hard at my antique style. Though I doubt anything will change. Thanks for the feedback, seriously.
I too make no attempt to be contemporary, Barry. It's just where I happen to find myself. I thank °you° for your serious reply, it's helped bring home to me some things I think may well apply to many in the community here. My criticisms are mostly written for my own benefit, to put a vocabulary to the interior events I experience when reading a poem. Part of my journey in always trying to understand what poetry is and what it can be. Believe it or not, I learned, long ago, many are those around me who would prefer that I wouldn't talk out loud when thinking these things through. So, I thank you for your indulgence. Truly, I wish you well.
Nothing will stay for ever... the seasons will pass. Love also is so transient...! Yet we cling to them as if they are stable and enduring because human mind likes to conceal bitter realities in deceptive lies! May be because we are unwilling to look at truth squarely in the eyes ! A great write! Congratulations!
yet we cling to seasons past affections that can never last antique lies we choose to cherish like gardens where maidens stray and angel spirits croon and sway and wait to satisfy our hunger Beautiful poem. Thanks for the sharing.10 for it. Subhas
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7/21/2025 6:18:48 AM # 1.0.0
I don't know if Barry is still with us, but its wonderful to know that his work still exists to be read and cherished. This poem means more in retrospect then it did before. The wording of this poem evokes something new when reread again and again, Barry I hope wherever you are, take care.