Milton was blind,
Beethoven deaf.
Yet from the first,
we have an epic poem,
and from the latter,
we have oceans of pulchritude and passion.
But for Van Gogh's madness,
we would not have "Starry Night"
and "Sunflowers" and hundreds
of other masterpieces that hang
in museums and in our minds.
Afflictions do not always debillitate.
Sometimes they create.
Our world would be much the less
without their magnificent, myriad works--
the poems and paintings,
the symphonies and songs--
that bring beauty into our lives endlessly.
Say a prayer and give thanks
to those who endured pain
long enough to transmute
theirs into what we
will always find joy.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

If nihilism is to be believed,
There is a lot of nothing.

Normally, I am crazy about you,
But how can you laugh at all this comedy?

Some nights
I crack a window
to let out the stink
of darkness

unsheathe my knife
and think of carving
free my eyes

tossing them high
into a pine
so that they can see
all that isn’t going on
around me

instead I let the sharp
hard winter winds
of black starlight in

to fan the flames
of lonesome desire.

my hands hover above his skin
ready to begin a glorious prelude,
a lithe overture
smooth ivory lay beneath my fingertips
where anticipation mounts,
palms tingling, aching to travel
across satin scenery, the supple canvas
my covetous joints crave
the staging of a sacred symphony