The Tenant
I gave the darkness horns so I could point at it.
I gave it a face that was not mine,
a throne outside the skull,
a name to curse when the night went wrong.
But look at where it sits:
inside the gold curve of my own head,
close enough to whisper,
one clawed hand cupped over the eye
that would have shown me everything.
It never crept in from outside.
I fed it here. I called it enemy
so I would never have to call it mine.
Every blame I handed off to hell
came back by morning, wearing my voice,
the same old flattery, the same old fear,
the same small pride that could not bear
to be the one who did it.
The eye keeps burning through its fingers.
It has always been open.
It only asks that I stop looking away.
So let the horns come off.
Let the mask slide down to a mirror.
The thing I feared was never at the gate.
It was the hand that wrote the story of the gate
and sat here all along, still holding the pen.
The cloud of gloom hovers over the sea of sorrow,
surges in distress tempest to my mental visage,
melts to make the torrent of tears to flow
like the trail of raindrops on the face of foliage.
With the brine condensing the pain of molten grief,
the teardrops are poised on the eyelashes for a while.
Like the raindrops on the edge of the leaning leaf,
they slide down slowly with dreams’ debris pile.
Down the parched crease of the pallid cheeks,
surges the silent streams of soothing solace.
The serene touch of soul the mourning mind seeks
in the course of tears, in its embalming embrace.
Fleeting flow of tears cascades on my cheeks mellow,
splashing after rainy night the dawn with sunlit hue
in the yonder horizon over the verdant meadow.
On torn tips of droopy grass shines the teardrop dew.
I once heard someone told me
that the beach is our utopian paradise
where the ocean breeze meets the horizon
and where the sun
would blow its warm kisses down at us
A glorious place
where we can slide down
the barks of the palm trees
with a bundle of coconuts
to crack open with a machete in the sand
taking sips of Sky Juice
to energize our hearts
where the gin hidden within
would have us gazing at the clouds
floating above the palm tree leaves
Rain patters against the window, slick and wet as it slides down the glass
Tears roll down my face, slick and wet as they slide down my skin
The house is colder than it once was in the absence of my love,
His smile and laughter missing like a puzzle piece under the lounge
The police arrived yesterday morn, hats pressed to their chest with respect
And informed me that my dear husband had been found in the creek
With wounds in his chest, piercing his heart
The one filled with love for me
And I broke down in front of the officers as I realised
Forever alone I'll be
Today, I woke up sad and blue;
and feeling somewhat out of sorts.
My mood is dark for sure it's true
sometimes so down I feel that's true.
Maybe, today I'll just stay home
perhaps I'll rest in bed and read.
Won't take my 'black dog' out to roam
just, tie him up so he can't roam.
Somethings in life I can control
but, 'black dog' visits me sometimes.
Then I slide down the big black hole
so, have to climb out from that hole.
My melancholic deep abyss
when mood swings take me up and down.
Ignore this state must not dismiss
my feeling therefore can’t dismiss
Some soothing music I might play
to lighten up my darkened soul.
It may help chase the blues away
I hope they soon will go away.
Let all my worries take a hike
Relax, unwind my troubled soul.
Regain myself, I can for sure
I’ve had the practice that’s for sure.
And when I do 'black dog' be gone
I'll smile again my blues have gone.
This is my headache
that I can't call a migraine
because it doesn't go away
and its not strong enough
for that convenient label.
This is knowing how
to collect pennies,
not quarters, for
Coin Star.
This is going to a grocery store
not to buy food.
This is hoping you can afford
a Bento Box of wine so tonight
the headache will go away
for a couple hours.
This is asking for money
gently, and mot making it seem
like you are begging.
This is putting dignity
behind your family,
and yourself.
This is writing poetry
because words are free,
sometimes.
This is having a close relationship
with Tupperware
and leftovers.
This is learning the art
of meditation
because I can't afford
yoga classes or the pants
the women wear
who go to them on Saturdays.
This is learning to cook
based on the cans
in your closet between
bowed down shelves
you are too tired to straighten.
I have learned what it is
to recognize the song
of a Mourning Dove
and the peepers in the spring.
That makes me smile
when I run in the evening
and time and no-money me
can slide down a colorless
rainbow
towards
borrowed serenity.
Diamond beads spill from exultant crimson heart
Just as pearly dew drapes emerald meadow
Topaz drops slide down ebullient purple cheeks
Memory frames euphoric trail of gleaming tears
Circling the drain my world’s changing,
trying to salvage the best parts.
Naiveté and those soft hearts,
they slide down disintegrating.
The hardest fist is now banging,
this is how sour becomes sweet tarts.
Circling the drain,
a potent aroma’s stinging.
Dingy is how all the growth starts,
everything’s fresh after cleaning.
With focus you’re harshly scrubbing,
circling the drain.
There's this guy, he's tall, wears glasses, brunette, thin,
He's so sweet, always nice and respectful.
The way he crinkles his nose and looks down with a smile,
She could just watch him for a little while.
He blushes ever so slightly when he speaks to her,
As if he's nervous or maybe a little giddy.
She tries to keep her cool, act like she's not phased,
But inside her heart is racing, she's dazed.
His laughter is a symphony, a song in her ears,
Washing away all of her worries and fears.
She loves the way his glasses slide down his nose,
And the way his polite, respectful demeanor shows.
And when he talks, she feels like the only person in the room,
The rest of the world fades into a hazy blur.
She gets lost in his eyes, a beautiful sight,
And the way his gentle, innocent smile shines so bright.
When he finishes, she feels a little weak,
Just savoring the gentle, respectful way he speaks.
I was lost after a night out and
couldn't unlock the screen for directions
you walked to the pub you can't be far just
ease yourself over this railing and
slide down the wall so you can take a
short cut through the car park
cursing all the while but
I know the tube station's nearby
and it must still be open
pushing the On button over and over
swiping this way and that
screaming with rage at this useless device
####ing this and ####ing that
now this isn't the way to the station
and I hear her voice coming through:
- is that you, why did you call me?
are you in trouble?
still the screen is black
- yes I'm just a little lost
- you sound very scared, in fact
it doesn't sound like you at all
Genesis 2
As the dewdrops slide down the tomato
Silent thoughts turn to you
How you love to plant a garden, eat
The fruits, but not a stew
God planted a garden for man
Man was given a command
To tend the grand garden planted
Now what happens to the land
Husband of mine still tries to tend
While scientist still mix
Potions to destroy the whole world
Then earth they can't fix
In the garden, dirt on your hands
You are content again
Out in the heat, sweat on your skin
Will you die out there in pain
Baby swing unused for eight years
Glider has sat dormant since 2019
Dual slides; who was the last one to slide down them?
I do not remember because it has been a while
I congratulate myself on making this play park into a dog park
The dogs use the underside of the slides for shade
They have dug holes around the pool
Now our little dog is making mud pies with his paws
Life requires adventures sometimes
So that we can gain courage all along
I'm telling you, slide down from here
And your troubles will disappear then
Come and try it, it will be interesting
It's better than being alone at home
With your thoughts and being bored
It's good being childish sometimes
Recall the old fun play hide and seek
Than facing the world in matured form
Life so serious when facing the world
My face is grown likely into a full man
But heart feels still when in my twenties
Age is number and is biological too
The younger eat and drink sweets
The older eat meat and drink hard
This makes sense as life grow colder
I miss the time when body get tired
And the mind admit his daydreaming
Now the body is reacting to aching
This is how life is grinding like wheels
While the mind think with complexity.
I'm still here
I stepped into the shadows
I haven’t gone away
I didn’t want others to see the face of sorrows
I’m still here
It was so much easier than I could convey
I just didn’t have the words
But I’m still here
The pain was too much to bear
I took time to sit and watch the birds
I had to let my soul repair
However, I am still here
Occasionally, a tear will slide down my face
And I still feel like my heart is on its last beat
But I am still here
Then I try to remember God’s wonderful grace
And tell myself that I am complete
I am still here
I am a child of the Most High
Despite all my failures and my hurt
I will not listen to another lie
This is where I will assert
I am still here
In Loving Memory of Katie Knox
4/15/2025
© Deborah Seale 2025
Seeking Answers from within,
Staring into its reflection,
The projection of my eyes,
Creating what's lying inside,
So that I can enjoy this ride,
As I slide down into you,
Riding along sharing my view,
Excited to see what you do,
With the body you built for me,
Evolving through Adaptability,
Trusting when you couldn't see,
Everything was meant to be,
The good bad and ugly,
All a part of eternity,
Starting from within me,
Questions entered in the query,
Become answers i can see,
Feel and touch in my reality,
Being free to experience,
Dancing with the answers,
Now a truth transfer,
To place here in my heart,
Thankful I can play my part,
Living life like its an art.
Ask again you're getting smart.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.