When I was sixteen
I helped train hunting
dogs in the scorching
heat of the flatlands
of South Dakota the
land is so flat
that I was certain
that the far off
horizon was one step
away from the edge
of the world hunting
dogs aren’t treated kindly
certainly not like a
family dog oh no
they are bred for purpose
a very specific purpose
and like soldiers they
do their jobs precisely
I was terrible at
training these hunting dogs
sleeping with them within
an arms reach of
their three foot chain
One morning the training
master found me there
he said let them
dogs be they have
purpose and don’t need
no friendly reminder that
they’re anything but that
and that was the
day that I decided
that I’d do anything
to never ever be
just considered on purpose
yet it does kind
of sound like capitalism
Category: Career
Success
Sometimes it doesn’t work
But it still mattered
You can’t count on
Any future for success
But success doesn’t lie
In any of your
Accomplishments it lies in
Trying and then failing
Over and over again
Trust me successful isn’t
Awarded to those who
Succeeded the successful ones
The ones hailed as
Such are those who
Were willing to try
The things you wouldn’t
OnWriting (for Muenster)
Muenster there are
Reasons and explanations
There are mechanics
And lessons to
Learn there is
Mastering the metaphor
But mostly writing
Is magic no
Different than a
Twinkling star or
The Harvest Moon
Or snowflakes or
Anything natural it’s
Sand and sandcastles
Snow and igloos
It’s one thing
That when used
Turns into something
Else to me
It’s a whisper
And to another
A simple roar
Alive
In life and
Love we often
Run away from
What we are
And choose what
We are not
Eventually both catch
Up with us
Surrendering we fall
Defeated but just
Until our heart
Takes its first
Full deep breath
At long last
Alive
BeGoneGhost
What happens to
Ghosts that lose
Their moans groans
Their scariness do
They become wind
Do they turn
Into a breeze
Or do they
Disappear
Making no sound
I wonder then
What you might
Be for one
Moment you were
Here and the
Next gone without
So much as
A whispered whimper
Leave me ghost
You shall not
Have me my
Soul belongs to
The living those
Who have hearts
That beat loudly
And bleed on
Sleeves when hurt
Be gone ghost
For good now