Long Black dog Poems
Long Black dog Poems. Below are the most popular long Black dog by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Black dog poems by poem length and keyword.
a hard skin to crawl under
when you can’t get with the joke
ev’ryone is a foreigner
they want to see you up in smoke
burning, burning up in smoke
burning, burning down real slow
friends looking on, vaguely confused
cannot be expected to know
black dog bites blindingly cruel
pain has the colours of shimmering gold
burning, burning, shimmering gold
burning, burning down real slow
what of all the summer rain?
laughter from another room
all the windows and doors are closed
no exit here, enter the fool
one way mirror, a real live show
burning, burning, shimmering gold
burning, burning down real slow
burning, burning, shimmering gold
burning, burning down real slow
shimmering gold
32 have taken their own lives.
Leaving behind, children, friends and wives
How much longer is this to go on
Devastating families is totally wrong
No person should get to this state
When they could just chat to a mate
Asking for help is not a sign of weakness
It's about sharing your bleakness
Other ways to cope with this mess
Admit that you are in distress
Learn about breathing, and using your senses
This will strengthen your defences
That black dog that sits on your shoulder
Let it know you were a soldier
You are strong and can't be beat
You are not ready for defeat
My ask is that everyone shares
To show all affected somebody cares
This is not a massive ask
Go and see them take a flask
Sit down with a listening ear
Let them know you are here
Have a chat and make a brew
Chew the fat like you use too
Being beside them is really great
The true meaning of a mate
If you do this simple thing
You could stop heavens bar-bell ring
A black dog has got hold of her again.
She sponges her face
to a more rigid mask of brightness.
She has been depressed before
but this trench she trudges through
is full of muddied water
and she cannot find a way out.
At work she has to teach her hands
to do things
she has done a thousand times before.
Then there is the mirror,
she cleans and wipes it constantly
but at each glace she sees
her face blurring
as it leaves for nowhere.
She eats alone,
The restaurant erupts
with an air-conditioned laughter
that makes her head spin.
She drinks alone,
then fills the empty wine glass
with salty tears.
She is not sorry for herself,
she is sorry for the black dog
that slinks in and out of her mind
looking to be fed,
but she will not feed it,
she must watch it starve
while she slowly climbs
up and over
her own daily bereavement.
Tyrone and the Black Dog
Tyrone was a young man;
He wanted to have fun.
He was from a seedy part of town;
But he didn’t own a gun.
"Black dog quit your growling,
Don’t come around here anymore.
I got no use for black dogs,
Quit scratching at my door".
Tyrone could throw a football;
Best in all the land.
They promised him a scholarship
And a bucket load of fans.
Black dog he comes creeping,
When they turn out the lights;
And for a Girl named Brenda
Tyrone decides to fight.
Nobody knows who fired the shot;
But oh, his Momma Cried.
When the hopes of all a family.
Fell in the dirt and died.
Children killing children;
It has gone on way to long;
"Black dog what’s your purpose?
Everybody knows you’re wrong".
(A tired voice whispers)
It was 3 years ago that I first saw it in my long mirror.
A black dog watching in the shadows.
Then 6 months later, in full view but at a distance. Watching.
Now four years later, it's my best friend.
He follows me everywhere. Sleeps beside me, and lately I can hear him talking.
Talking about my father and about his end.
I went to see Old Shala, and she read my aura and said I was being stalked by a Lylak.
She asked if I had lost anyone. I said my wife, and she said depression had opened a portal, and it had gotten closer and closer.
So with her permission we had a ceremony. Candles, incantations, and incense.
Looking in her long mirror, I sensed and watched my only friend leave my side with sad heavy eyes, and slowly move away to the shadows.
When it was in the shadows, the mirror was suddenly broken, trapping it, and another thing happened, which I cannot say to this day.
I paid and left.
Now back alone.
I still see its red eyes in the dark.
Everywhere in my now empty home
Shall I call it out?
That old friend of mine or ring up my real friends?
(C) Copyright John Duffy
This poem is about:
Grief after losing a spouse.
Depression becoming identity.
The danger of romanticizing pain.
The loneliness that follows healing.
It does not glorify the darkness—it shows how seductive and persistent it can be.
The voice is reflective, aware, and conflicted. That self-awareness is what separates this from despair and turns it into literature.
For depression doesn’t vanish cleanly. Even after treatment or ritual:
Traces remain.
Fear of relapse lingers.
Familiar pain still “looks back” at you.
If you're feeling depressed, talk to someone. It will make all the difference. Try never to face anything alone. Salute.
I scry through time with a crystal sphere
Asking of it my future, both far and near
Yet, the images I see were dismally unclear
(It should go without saying that I am not a seer)
I saw a black dog and it's rather cute
It doesn't bark though, perhaps it's mute?
Its silky coat shines like freshly ironed suit
Is it time to do the laundry? I do not compute
Then I saw an owl flying over my house
That's great! I hope it'd prey on the mouse
Who invaded my dresser and chewed on a blouse
The most expensive one too, that dreadful louse!
It then displayed my room, and zoomed in on my bed
Where someone had left on the pillow an old, felt hat
I tap on the hard dome, starting to get mad
Couldn't it bring a sign that can be more easily read?
Finally, it shattered, the infernal ball
I've been scammed! It couldn’t see the future after all
crushed at rock bottom he gathered the fragments of descent
slow motion agony that started at a plateau of deluded deceit
free falling sadness spiraling out of control beyond fast repair
the black dog on his shoulder had survived the fall and barked
another round of sadness an insurmountable sorrow cheered on
‘you are useless and even void and oblivion are having a laugh’
a tunnel with no light and the canary asphyxiated in the mine shaft
another panic attack unable to ease the landing of a scarred mind
scared and confused he gathered the pieces and stabbing shards
with broken bones and un-abating accusations he collected his guilt
fears and shame about yet another defeat at the foundation of evil
demons and miserable clairvoyants spoke in bifurcated obsessions
possessed by the mother of all depressions he reached for a glimmer
of hope he searched for a message from science deities and reason
yet unable to guide his emotions all efforts crashed without rescue
the rope had twisted once more and he dangled helpless face down
just enough slack to disfigure his angry face that featured disgust
and yet as the blood flooded his brain he surrendered his objections
one final attempt and he severed the noose with the open fracture of
the razor sharp dislocation sticking out just below the palm of his hand
with a further snap of his wrist and life line he surrendered lost dreams
if life gave you hemlock but the vessel had cracked on the impact
of the smash and grab of lifeless cycle of disassociated insanity he
resolved to drink his own blood and call upon autoimmune response
after all the medication had been useless and hours on Freud’s couch
had only imprinted more festering pressure sores on purulent skin
cognitive explorations had only dragged him further down self-denial
religion mantras and science had failed to invoke sanity and healing
levitation would not emerge when he fell from the edge of madness
the cross lay in pieces and nails had lacerated his heart and resolve
just when he felt the pulse getting weaker and with delirious gaze
he succumbed to a last ditch attempt to reassemble a piece of his soul
wrote an ultimate will on the wall and vowed to hand over let go and live
15th June 2020
Unless you walk in my shoes,
you don’t know how I feel,
you don’t know what I’m thinking,
and what, to me, is real
You may have your demons,
but you don’t know of mine
the feelings when the darkness comes,
the sadness all the time
My family love and care for me,
I know they are always there
it helps but does not keep away,
times of darkness and despair
They help to give me confidence,
to get through my work and play
I know that as I grow and learn,
their love will show the way.
And now I hope the things I do,
will help others through there day
and try to help them understand,
The Black Dog, can be held, at bay
Black Dog
Johnny was a quiet boy:
He lived by Rangar Wood.
Johnny’s mother loved him,
As all good Mother’s should.
Black dog what’s you purpose?
Just to howl at the moon?
To harass poor little Johnny;
Who’s time has come to soon.
Johnny had a Motor-bike,
And a helmet colored red.
He raced with all his buddies
Till Johnny turned up dead.
Black dog what’s your purpose?
Are you only here to fight?
To take away our Johnny;
In the stillness of the night?
He hit a patch of gravel,
Going quickly round a curve.
There wasn’t time to jump;
And there wasn’t time to swerve.
Black dog what’s your purpose?
Johnny’s just begun his life.
He left a crying Mother,
And a devastated wife.
"Keep it between the ditches".
Is what the people say.
To flying boys on Motorbikes;
Before they go away.
Black dog what’s your purpose?
When fine young people die?
They bleed-out on the highways,
While their loved ones cry.
My uncle said he’d seen a dog,
Come down his path one day.
But not aware who’s dog this was,
He shouted, “Go Away!”
The dog looked up at him, then left,
It ‘faded’ out of sight.
He then knew who his guest had been,
This dog was black as night.
This was the dog that visits us,
At times when death is near.
To help guide those who leave this life,
The ones that we hold dear.
While walking down her garden path,
My auntie died next day.
The warning that my uncle had,
He’d tried to turn away.
An operation had gone wrong,
Our daughter was in pain.
Nothing that the doctors knew,
Could make her well again.
Then when we visited one night,
We shuddered when she said.
A big black dog was also there,
And playing ‘round her bed.
But she seemed a little stronger,
Though we knew whom she had seen.
We thought he’d told of someone else,
And wondered why he’d been.
Alas, it wasn’t meant that way,
That week our daughter died.
I know within my heart of hearts,
Our dog would be her guide.
For many years he’d not been seen
Though others close have died.
Maybe, he only comes to those,
Who need him by their side.
When sitting in a meeting room,
A stranger came to me,
And said he had a message,
About something he could see.
Two dogs he said, were by my side,
Both looked as black as night.
Although the little one looked old,
His fur was tinged with white.
Again I shrugged this message off,
I didn’t think at all.
But while we were on holiday,
We got that dreadful call.
Our ‘Lucky’ had just had a stroke,
Our son was going ‘round.
But when he reached the kennels,
Just his earthly shell he found.
Three times within our memory,
Our spirit dog’s appeared,
To warn us of the saddest things,
That we have ever feared.
But though he is an omen,
That we’ll lose someone we love,
It comforts us to truly know,
He’ll guide their path above.
This dog had been my grandma’s dog,
I knew till I was five.
But now she’s living proof to us,
That all our souls survive.
Ivor G Davies