A sadness in my heart tonight
must be told, then dim that light.
To never see its face again,
and feel the pain that eats within.

A tragedy befell, you see,
and stormy nights still torture me.
She fell and died while in my keep,
and now it haunts my every sleep.

Her face so blank and eyes opaque,
my heart fell hard, and then to ache.
No turning back what time hath wrought,
my constant conscience battles fought.

A fear of storms was Mollie's fate,
the night was dark, the hour late.
As thunder rumbled in her chest,
and her heart pounded in her breast.

To run and hide, but never from
the storm that was about to come.
She climbed atop a place to see,
what made this horror, what could it be.

But leashes length, a noose had made.
Fell to her death, no more afraid.
I found her hanging from the chair,
part of my soul still hanging there.

For simple errors can take a life,
trip up the stairs, slip of the knife.
I put the wrong leash on that night,
it strangled her, I took her life.


*Forgive me my fellow poets for this unintentionally dark poem. The tragedy happened a year ago and I am still trying to find some closure. Mollie was a little mixed dog that I was fostering for a local shelter. She was kind and playful, but deathly afraid of storms

Where ever I go she goes
All those fantastic days and nights in the wild
Cold nights when she sneaks into my sleeping bag
And curls up against the back of my knees
But my Mollie is now eight years old
A good age for a Patterdale Terrier
They dont live that long
They spend their lives at ninety miles an hour
And never know when to give up
About four years ago she chewed up a six stone Boxer dog
He just wanted to play
But she didn't, and she only weighs 22 pounds
BUT like me she's getting old
And I have to accept that soon Mollie dog will be gone
Maybe one more trip into the wild in September
Then it will just be lonely nights

She walked with me in the high wood
And down cold wet forest pathsl
Slept with me in my sleeping bag
Was my constant companion through  the good times and the bad
Yes she could be a grumpy cow with lots  of teeth on show
But just three short hours ago it was her time to go
And so my Mollie Dog left me
For the place where good dogs go
R.I.P my Mollie Dog

Woke up this morning to a real blizzard
Well about seventeen flakes an hour
Anyway I dressed Mollie in her little red waterproof
And walked her down along the river
Why in hell does twenty two pounds of fighting fury
Need to wear a waterproof coat?
Well because she's over eight years old
A really good age for a Patterdale Terrier
And just occasionally she has to be reminded about
Just how old she is
Why in hell do I bother?
Fifteen pounds spent on a waterproof coat
Temperature just about zero
And she decides to go for her morning swim
Obviously female, a male dog wouldn't be that stupid
Anyway got her home and towelled her down
And gave her a bowl of cornflakes and warm milk
And then
That smelly wet dog climbed all over me

Man I hate that dog

Preface:
Earlier today May 28th, 2021,
the 12-member jury unanimously
found Cristhian Bahena Rivera guilty
of first-degree ****** in brutal stabbing death
sentenced to life in prison
without the possibility of parole
of Mollie Tibbetts remembered as then friendly
20-year-old who was studying
to become a child psychologist.

IOWA CITY, Iowa
(killingly, jarringly inexplicable,
horribly, gruesomely, and forlornly),
the body found July 18, 2018,
an exhumed decayed corpse
belonging to young
vibrant coed twenty year old
college student Mollie Tibbetts.

Impossible mission to deduce
senseless killing of innocent babe
wild speculation perchance
spurned, snubbed,or scorned
love seriously gone wrong,
she who disappeared
from her small hometown
in central Iowa sad swan song
now plays, where every
last drop of sorrow rung,
now weeping family, friends,
relatives, et cetera subjected wrack
with lifelong emotional pain,
which searing inescapable
grief twill unrelentingly track
ferociously, fiercely, and figuratively,
doth disallow recourse
to duck away
from heart wrenching quack
king unbearably, terribly, and scathingly
will fully bill leave ably
beak homing a folly,
mockery, and travesty,
sans time heals
all wounds (truly "FAKE"),
nonetheless psyche riving tragic
(irrevocable loss) doth pack.

Grievous punch greater then any
all star olympic pugilist
straight to the ab
domain of opponent, where
rumor mongers mill and blab
how this, that, or
another potential suspect,...
whence tissues dab
corners of crying eyes,
an endless stream
of tears merge with gab
bullying utter disbelief.

Family/friends question
the supposed almighty
at devastating loss
to do nothing but bawl (at Baal)
into the fox sized rabbit hole
trying with futility
to block (even crawl
ling into every
rabbit hole) no bastion
against implacable
maddening crowded
house alive with murderous frenzy,
and a dialect (non
tickling) gentle Iowan drawl.

Third anniversary regarding
asper the impossibly steep toll
the purposelessness killing,
aforementioned deceased  
affected sodden wet soul
cannot process any (defying) logic,
a foregone lovely gal (same age
as my youngest daughter),
whose missed presence,
(albeit said slain lass
Mollie Tibbetts – permanent absence),
now created an expansive
infinite black sink hole.

a descent
1000 feet down
to pristine silence
a Silence
on surface unknown..
guide speaks there of
miners and animals
struggles to eke
in candlelight
daily bread from
earth's stubborn veins..
encasements:
gold in rocks
ounces in tons
suffering and toil
in that Silence...

Marie, Marie, what have you done?

Mollie still softly glows

with your beautiful radium

as if she were a star interred

slung over with human skin

except stars explode outward

not collapse from within.



Mollie, sweet Mollie, all but nineteen

sitting stiffly at her shift

quietly painting.

one by one, day by day

out came the teeth,

then her jaw removed

and the bleeding

that never ceased

yet the clocks all tick on

and numbers

must still illuminate.

This is war, girl, and

sacrifices are to be made.



Thirteen sisters dip their brushes

in the belly of the beast.

Their pursed lips

form the fine points

that detail work needs.

Undark atoms infiltrate

on each inhalation;

these unwitting scribes

are the ink in Our

industrial supplication.

This is the new world

with it’s new God –

Bright, shining Radiation.



Mollie, fair Mollie, five years now cold

yet in the dark you still flicker

like a trove of white gold.

We have come armed

with our shovels

and shame too terrible to be told

to clear your name justly

by burning your radiant bones

Something I always do in Summer
Is just sit beneath my tree
Yes, my tree
Why?
Because it's about a 3 kilometer walk along a deer path
Anyway sit under that spruce with its shade giving branches
And you enter another world
The heady aroma of pine resin fills the air
Squirrels chatter in contentment over my head
I watch insects unknown to me
Walk the aerial ways
Ants in synchronized dance
The bark cracks do invade
Even in a gentle rain Mollie and I can share this space
Just sit and crack open another beer
And live for another day
No noise but natures noise
No rancid petrol or diesel fumes
Just the smell of mole turned soil
The sound of natures tunes
You know I love to sit in these lonely places
Mollie at my feet
Sit here with a pen and pad
In this special place where I and nature meet
I come here to sit and write sometimes just to think
But all to often when I leave
The pad is shy of ink
You see most of the time I'm quite content
To sit in filtered sun
Most of all I'm so elated
When I join with nature
When nature and I merge as one

Gone is the wild unbridled passion of our early years
Hands, lips, bodies in constant embrace
Now, as we grow older yet
We are being overtaken by a deeper love
An early morning caress, the brushing together of lips
The smile in your eyes reflecting the smile in mine
This is real love
When the health of Mollie dog and the cats (our boys)
Are the topic discussed over breakfast
This is the time when we become comfortable
With ourselves and with each other
The time when we can reflect on the good times and the bad
The time to reflect on how lucky we are
To have and to hold, real **love

Yes.
I remember you
But not your name. Kate? No.
Mallory? No.
I'm sorry.
There's too many faces now.
But I do remember you. Mollie? No.
You were the girl with the blue eyes. Yes.
The girl who wore contacts.
The girl who's eyes are actually a beautiful brown.
Yes you. I saw you.  I remembered you.
I wanted to love you madly. Kelsey? No.
You spoke to me about how you're from out of town
But you said you'd move here one day.
With me? No. Emily? No.
******.
You'll have to forgive me...
See, I have a photographic memory,
But sometimes the pictures come out blurry.
Here. Let me hold you a second.
I promise it'll come back to me. No? Ok.
Nice try? I know. I've never held you before, but it was worth a try.
But we can start now? No? Ok.
Jenny? No.
Forget it. I don't need to remember.
I love you. Brown-eyed, Blue-eyed, name-less girl.
We don't need names. Why? Because it's really not that important.

When my Molly crossed the rainbow bridge
And I said my last goodbye
I  kissed her on her small black head
As tear drops filled my eyes

The Molly dog was a part of me
And always by my side
Smelly and wet in my sleeping bag
Beneath a moonlit sky

She went so quick that little dog
We never got to have one last walk
In places she loved to go
One deep sigh and she was gone
And my tears began to flow

Three years ago I lost her
But still the pain wont leave
My Molly was always a part of me
But now her ghost walks by my side

I will always have the memories of that
Mollie dog I loved you then and I love you still
RIP my Mollie dog

she’s got the Oxycontin blues and an appetite for Ritalin
a body made for fixation
Wellbutrin XL 300 MG to cope with hallucinatory voices
little lonely, melancholy mollie keeps her gloominess away through raw physical exertion
Prozac to highlight her manic side
she lacks emotional stability
****** to walk her off the end
2 ***** bottles and some ******

Ten years ago today I said goodbye to Tess my golden Labrador

*Tess was fourteen when I had to say goodbye
When I got up on that morning I knew
She looked at me with her sad brown eyes
Said its time to let me go
Time to hold me, kiss me, send me on my way
Tears were in my eyes as I held her close
Not tears of shame but salt tears of remorse
Could I have done any more
To prolong that doggy life
Probably not, she knew it was her time to die
I held her close as the young vet slid the needle in
And just before she breathed her last
She lifted her head and layed it on my arm
Salt tears on my cheeks as I said my last goodbye
Ten years ago today when my Tess breathed her last
But now the Mollie dog is fading
Grey faced instead of black
I know the bitter tears will come again
When she takes her final rest

Your stroke feels like a fictional narrative
Maybe it's because I just watched that movie you were in
My friend only gave it one star on Netflix
The walk from my apartment to work
Doesn't give me much time to involve myself in the whole wide world
And Mollie says you aren't really up to visitors right now
I always kind of wanted to be you and not you
Kind of like my dad
I adopted the same dreams but thought maybe
I would take better care of them
While I was watching your movie my friend kept texting me about how ******* everything is
He only talks that way when he's drunk but I guess that's the way I like him best
While I was at work today I talked to my manager about how when I have kids
Cause I really want them
More than I want most things
That I would feel weird about telling them about Santa and then having to eventually
Confess that Santa was all a big lie that I told them to involve them in the spirit of Christmas
I told my manger that I probably wouldn't tell my kids about Santa and if they asked
I would admit that Santa was a complete fabrication that most parents agree it's ok to lie about
And then I would probably have to deal with a lot of other parents getting ******* at me
For not participating in their unspoken agreement to lie to their kids about Santa
And I would have to defend myself
Because I want my kids to trust me

Sorry but I don't need you here
I want to be alone
All I need is my Mollie dog
laying by my side
Its not my intention being rude
nor ever to offend
Its just that on the mountain side
I can make my ammends
You see its here that I can sit and think
here that I can write
Sorry its not my intention
to push you out of sight
Dear friends I find I need to be
on a cliff above the raging sea
I find no inspiration in your mindless words
I can only write of what nature inspires

It was early March and we laid on blankets
in the park, drinking cider and Mollie's blood.

We ate synthetic strawberries
whilst she reopened her sores for us to
feast upon.

Like blood brothers we vowed our friendship
in conclusive and knowing silence.

As we packed up our blankets
they floated momentarily
and delicately brushed the grass.

I write about the ****** of innocents
Terrorism, injustice
It shows I'm getting angry
I see here poems in praise of God
(I don't have a problem with that)
Poems of love lost and attempted suicide
(I do have a problem with that)

My remedy

Turn of everything
TV, computer, tablet, phone
Then with just pencil and notepad
Take yourself off and find a quiet place
I have three such places
My garden but there I always want to do something
My little spot down by the river
But best of all my tree in the forest
Where me and Mollie dog can be alone.
Find yourself such a place
And close your mind to all the stress and troubles
In your life
Sit there for a few hours and write, tell us your thoughts
Written in such a place where harmony rules
You're all talented writers on this site
Set your talent free

Crazy maybe, OK definitely
But earlier today I went walking in the rain.
Heavy rain
Just shorts, tee-shirt and sandals
Mollie was happy, she still went into the river
For her daily swim
I wanted to get wet
To feel clean and fresh
All my problems washed away by the rain
Maybe for a few hours anyway
I have always loved the rain
The giver of life
Its almost as though my life was being renewed
Refreshed
Why don't you try a walk in the rain

Mollie screams every night when I put her to bed,
"Mommy, don't leave me! Walk a little straighter, Daddy!"
I don't know what it takes to soothe her anymore,
nothing seems to do the trick to mend her heart's sore.

"I love you, sweetheart, I do,
Daddy always has,
together we always will,"

I tell her as I pull the sheets up to prevent
the deadly whispers from getting to her head;
such a perfect little girl now a destroyed
beauty, what happened here?

Was it the scarecrow she met at the fair this year, with it's wild eyes and mouth frozen in fear; could it have been the way she heard the
ocean whisper when we got lost on the waves?

she only has one life we
agreed and we know
so why's it so hard to live?

When I walk away she is fine, few moments later
He hears her cry as she asks, "Mommy, which direction
is home, mommy, which road will bring me back to you? Daddy, come help me please, where am I daddy? Which way do I go?"

I don't know what I can do
we lost her somewhere
in between hope and despair.

As she packed her last bag and slung it over her shoulder
he whispered, " Won't you miss the zombie babies,
the sour apple kisses, the late night walks
through this ghost town you chose as home,
the pet ninja we named Sam, Hank and Mollie the dragons.
Darling, what about the robots and giants and leprechauns
we used to party with when we were young?
Can you really just leave all that behind
so effortlessly?"

There were tears in his eyes and she had never seen
him cry before, she pulled him close, " Thank you,
I had forgotten when I promised to remember not to forget
just as you couldn't forget to remember me. Thank you,
really, thank you but I have to go."

But how could she leave after being reminded of
something so important to the people she loves
the very most