Paul Waring

Black Dog

by Paul Waring

Wednesday 1st February 2017 6:24 pm

I learned soon enough that you

were not just for Christmas,

that long winter of '97

when you first arrived.

how quickly you became a

constant companion, never far

from my side, matching me

stride for stride, more faithful

than night's darkness.

how you grew, fed by my helpless

hand, unable to resist those hang-dog

eyes that penetrated mine and claimed

my vulnerability as easily as locking

jaws around a bone; already, you knew

me better than I knew myself.

and how soon your presence cast

a lengthening shadow that darkened

my days as I lost the fight for control,

relinquishing my self to serve a black

dog-god, a barking sergeant major

whose iron bite and vice-like grip

told me who was master.

🌷 (4)

◄ HAIKU: Dead Poets Society

Casino Face ►

Comments

Paul Waring

Thu 2nd Feb 2017 10:34

Hi Col, thank you so much for the compliments, so pleased you commented on the flow of the piece, rhythm and readability are important to me when I write. Cheers, kind sir.

Hi Lynn, thank you, too, kind lady! It is so great to read that a fellow writer enjoys something you've written so much they read it over and over. You are very kind to say that.

Hi Tom, thank you, kind sir for your comment and astute observation about the boozy bulldog Churchill!

Thanks again everyone for your positive comments.

Paul

Paul Waring

Thu 2nd Feb 2017 10:27

Hi Stu, thank you for your kind words, and for being so thoughtful by including the links to your excellent poem and the deeply moving Nick Drake track. Sad, indeed.

I love reading your comments and your poems, you express yourself so eloquently and passionately. On the matter of mental health, I can relate to your sentiments about writing being cathartic, and no doubt your life experiences account so much for the depth and richness of your contributions to the small, safe cave of poetic delights. You are, for sure, one of the fine people we can meet there!

Paul

raypool

Thu 2nd Feb 2017 10:21

I'm coming back after a good sleep Paul! The old fella was a bit tired last night and not up to analysis in the aforementioned comment. Your clarification had me scuttling for the pyschiatrist's couch as it were. Of course, if you accept that the dog is not an objective animal but a state of mind that in itself brings those lines perfectly into focus. Unfortunately, I fell for the alternative, which was barmy in view of your explanation.
Thanks for putting me right, and for being thus involved. I feel now as if I had been arguing with the doctor!

regards, Ray.

Tom Doolan

Thu 2nd Feb 2017 09:27

Nice work Paul. A very emotive piece. I can relate to this as I work in mental health. Churchill didn't help his condition with he amount of alcohol he consumed !!

Stu Buck

Thu 2nd Feb 2017 07:39

hi paul
an excellent take on a tough subject. i have written extensively about my mental health, and i reality such is the depth of my problems that i believe everything that i write, and the very act of writing, comes from a cathartic need to shed the weight of depression.
but what wonder we can find in poetry, a small, safe cave in a world of madness, inhabited by fine people and always stocked with food for thought.

i have put a link to one of my pieces from last year re: the same subject. i hope you dont think i am self promoting, i just thought you may like to read it.

when reading about depression through the use of 'the black dog', i cannot help but recall nick drake's song 'black eyed dog', which to me is the perfect take on it all.

anyway, here is the piece i wrote last year.

https://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=60542

and here is the nick drake song, in case you dont know it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PabxhKTkE0U

edit - i would also say that if you dont feel some form of sadness, living in such a sad world, then you may not be paying enough attention.

lynn hahn

Thu 2nd Feb 2017 05:11

The last stanza made that clear. I really loved reading this over and over.

<Deleted User> (13762)

Wed 1st Feb 2017 23:57

Lovely flow to this Paul, so very easy to read. I'm thinking of opening a kennels for all these black dogs that are owned by WoL contributors. Give them a break. The dogs that is. Seriously though, I understand where this is coming from and the seriousness of the sentiments. Keep up the quality.

Paul Waring

Wed 1st Feb 2017 23:23

Thanks Ray, as ever, I'm so grateful to you for your comments and, no, I don't mind in the least you mentioning this point. Hopefully, I can clarify.....

(1) "how you grew" = the dog/depression
(2) "fed by my helpless hand, unable to resist those hang-dog eyes" = the depressed person being overtaken by depression, conceptualised as being unable to resist feeding the dog.

Oh, Ray, I do hope I haven't over-complicated this! It's so difficult to achieve the balance between brevity and helping the reader to understand your meaning, eh?

I hope this explains what you were referring to but, please, ask away if you would like further clarification.

Thanks again for such a considered comment, Ray.

Paul

raypool

Wed 1st Feb 2017 22:55

A great poem, Paul and worthy of study; having spilled the beans in the other comments it does relate so well and puts the it all into context. May I point out one thing you may consider? A tiny but sticky place as I read the third verse: it feels as though that it is your hand that is unable to resist rather than you as the controller. In addition: "How you grew......unable to resist" etc seems as though the dog is doing the resisting.(IMO) . I did stumble there, but maybe you're happy!

I know you won't mind me mentioning it.
You do seem to turning out a great variety of stuff Paul.
So much to enjoy!

Ray

Paul Waring

Wed 1st Feb 2017 19:30

Thanks Rob, great comment...wow, I hadn't realised this was such a hot topic for poets on here!!

By the way, just to clarify, I came up with the final lines to describe what I've learned over the years from working with some very unfortunate individuals whose lives became truly blighted by depression. It certainly doesn't affect everybody the same way (thank goodness).

As I did after Louise's comment, I will go to your profile to seek out your Black Dog...looking forward to reading that.

Thanks again Rob, always good to hear from you,

Paul

Robert Mann

Wed 1st Feb 2017 19:02

Paul - I too have been 'moved' to immortalise my own black dog on the WoL pages. I like the elegance of yours, but would not absolutely agree with your concluding lines. Having visits from the canine noir has left me enlightened in the knowledge that he does go and cock his leg elsewhere on occasion! I will also check out Louise's pooch as well.
Rob

Paul Waring

Wed 1st Feb 2017 18:45

Hi again Louise, just found your poem 'The Black Dog',
very good it is too, it really captures how human lives become blighted by this condition.

Looking forward to reading more of your poems.

Thanks so much,

Paul

Paul Waring

Wed 1st Feb 2017 18:29

Thank you so much Louise, both for reading this and for commenting. I would love to read your poem, have you posted it on here? (in the meantime, I'll check your profile page to see if I can find it).

Many thanks for your kind words.

Paul

Louise Hogg

Wed 1st Feb 2017 18:23

I chase away my own black dog and have written a poem titled 'Black Dog'.

I liked your Imagery and use of the metaphor. It moved me.

Louise

Paul Waring

Wed 1st Feb 2017 18:19

Thanks Lynn, for liking this and for your comment. I feel I must come clean and confess, just in case the double meaning is not apparent to all, because this piece is not only about how dogs can take over us (if we let them!) but also about the more serious issue of depression, once described by Winston Churchill as 'black dog'.

Many thanks again for your comment.

Paul

lynn hahn

Wed 1st Feb 2017 18:04

They do that don't they lol

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