LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 26

"I still suffer from PTSD. I take medications to help me sleep. Those bodies, all those bodies, arms, legs, bodies with no heads, old people, young men, children slaughtered, so many burnt to ashes and blackened bones by ******. Screams as loud as bombs exploding, silence louder than children laughing, a nightmare that has lasted years. And I ordered thousands and thousands and thousands of young men to their deaths, and now I cry myself to sleep. The medals, the ribbons pinned on my chest I came to detest. I have long ago burnt all my uniforms, but I cannot extinguish the horrors I planned and ordered. Love, and only love, gives my some solace. Love is my salvation, my only salvation."

Mr Ly then sat down on the sofa, wiping tears pouring down his checks. Bian and Jon sat on either side of him, holding him, hugging him. Not a word could be said. Only silence could be shared.

Finally, Bian said to her father whom she loved so much, "Father, forgive yourself. Love is the weapon against war. Killing, murdering, mutilating have been the way of human life for millennia, but now you and many others are fighting to right this wrong and bring everlasting peace to Earth."

The sun was beginning to set in Johannesburg. The three walked out on the balcony.

"After we defeated the French, I remember walking with my best friend to the beach. We threw rocks into the ocean. We were just boys having fun. We would roll up our pant legs and walk into the waves, splashing each other with our hands. We laughed. We were boys. Little did we know that we would be next, that so many who had been our childhood friends would also need to fight the fire of battle and death, that so many of them would have to perish."

The sun set below the ridge of Witwatersrand and the three walked back inside.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 25



"Of course, all people are different one from another, each in her/his own way," said Bian to Jon, "but in a superficial way, only. But where it matters--that is to say, in their hearts--they are one. All need love. All are love."

"All is love. Cosmos is love. When I am in your presence, Bian, I am enveloped by love. When I chat and laugh with you, when I hold and kiss you, when I make love with you, all becomes love," said Jon.

"Read me another of your love poems, Jon," asked Bian.

Without a word, Jon walked toward his satchel, opened it, found the poem he wanted to share with his wife, and began reading.


BETWEEN MY HEART AND HANDS

Between my heart and hands, I
hold you. I told you so yesterday,
a day that lasted longer than a long
summer. I come to you with no noise,
no pretense. I am poised to press you
against me and let my hair mingle with
yours. I am aroused to put my lips on
your neck, my hands on your curves.
I am satisfied for a moment, but then you
overwhelm me, and again I am insatiable.
This clarion call is to consume you. Do
I dare lay you down in the grass, to love
you, alas, 'til day becomes night, and
night tomorrow?


In bed, their world became timeless. Moments became murmurs, minutes cries of passion.


Over breakfast, Bian and Jon enjoyed talking about Pablo Neruda and Che Guevarra whose hometowns they would be visiting in Chile and Argentina, respectively.

Pablo Neruda was born 12 July 1904 in Parral, Maule Region, Chile. He was a poet, diplomat, and politician. In 1971, he won the Nobel Prize in Literature. Among the most famous of his collections is TWENTY LOVE POEMS AND A SONG OF DESPAIR. Neruda was a  close adviser to President Allende. Concurrent with dictator Pinochet's coup d'etat in 1973, Neruda left the hospital where he was being treated for cancer, fearing he might be killed by one of Pinochet's agents. Neruda died on 23 September 1973 in Santiago at the age of 69. The cause of his death is still being debated.

Che Guevarra was born on 14 June 1928 in Rosario, Argentina. He was a physician, a writer, and a Marxist guerrilla leader. He traveled as a medical student throughout South America and was enraged by the hunger, poverty, and disease he saw everywhere. Later, he met Fidel Castro in Mexico City and joined the "26th of July Movement." In Cuba, he became second-in-command to Castro. Guevarra was murdered by CIA-affiliated Bolivian forces on 9 October 1967. He was 39-years-old.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 24

"Why not help others instead of hurt them?" Jon asked Bian and her father rhetorically.



Jon continued.

"I believe in a class society. It's just that I believe there is only one class--First Class--and everyone on Earth belongs to it.

"There is a difference between personhood and behavior. Personhood is the sacredness that every human being possesses innately, inviolably. Behavior, on the other hand, is reflected by how one lives her/his life. If one is loved, especially at an early age, love, the core of personhood, will flower, allowing that person both to love her/himself and begin to love others. If one is not loved enough, if at all, that person will suffer unconsciously the pain of this grievous, emotional deprivation, and in all probability, will begin to act out socially in superficial or hurtful or even lethal ways.

"For example, those who never experience love will unconsciously compensate for the lack of it. Three major examples of this are 1) megawealth;  2) great power, not to empower others, but to oppress them;  and 3) fleeting fame. None of the three will make up for the lack of love. Lethal consequences mean deaths."

Mr. Ly spoke up.

"Jon, I found your comments cogent. Let me now give the two of you updates from my end.

"I and my friends have many, many other friends in all other countries on Earth. They are, as it were, all invisible volunteers.

"You will be pleased to know, I'm sure, we have placed through all major media outlets--newspapers and TV and radio stations--ads of the PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE commentary every two weeks. Moreover, in every nation you have already visited, the leading media outlets in them have received the commentary, as well as information related to your visits. All outlets that communicate in specific dialects receive our message in the one they read and speak. The feedback we have received has been most encouraging. Finally, we are making great progress in building our own Starlink-like social media site."

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 23

Jon wrote:

IF I COULD MOUNT A MOUNTAIN

If I could mount a mountain
and ride it to the sea,
I'd gather up the waters
to make a bath for thee.
I'd rinse your hair with with violets,
your breast and thighs with myrrh,
and as you rose I'd cover you
with strands purple, silver, gold.
If I could garner galaxies,
I'd make for you a ring
and ring it round your finger
for eternity. I'd call on all
the continents to make for you
a bed, a majesty of meadows,
white billows for your head.
And underneath a tapestry God
wove on Heaven's loom, with
love and lust I'd plant my seed
in your soft and sacred womb.


THE BUTTERFLY SONG

A Lullaby for Katie

Tell me why, oh butterfly,
do you fly so high?
Tell me why, oh butterfly,
high up in blue sky?

Tell me, pretty butterfly,
with your wings of gold,
are you as kind and gentle
as I'm always told?

Tell me, golden butterfly,
will you come to me
and light upon my shoulder
to keep me company?

And when night falls, my butterfly,
please let your golden wings
illuminate the darkness
until the bluebird sings.


ALONE AT THE BRONX ZOO

There are no people around,
only animals, popcorn on side-
walks, empty paper cups,
coke stains. The animals

are in their cages, where
they should be, not out and
about on the town. Clowns
are in the circus, the animals
in their place, and I am

alone at the Bronx Zoo,
kicking peanut shells, waiting for
Washington Irving to show up.


We are more concerned with goods than goodness.

May we be servants to all others and masters of ourselves.

If a man doesn't keep his word, he soon finds out he has a limited vocabulary.

Repentagon.

I open my heart so I may enter yours....

The only thing our country cycles well is pain.

To save Earth, you have to planet.

Beliefs expressed anonymously are coward's clothes.

We used just to waste human lives. Now we turn lives into human waste.

Do not confuse your pain with your worth.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by  

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 22


"Except for you, Bian, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen was Ingrid Bergman in my most favorite movie, CASABLANCA. It's about 20 minutes into the film when you first see her as she enters Rick's Cafe Americain with her freedom-fighting husband. As I recall, she was in real life in her early 20's. She, like you, is ethereally beautiful, absolutely stunning. I was mesmerized, just as I was mesmerized when I entered Tom's that fateful morning and saw you sitting alone in a booth.

"In the movie, Bogart meets Bergman in Paris just days before the German army enters the city. It is a lovely flashback when the two meet and fall in love. But for reasons not disclosed until the end of the movie, Bogart and Bergman do not get married as they had hoped to do. Bogart finds his way to Casablanca, thinking all the while that Bergman had jilted him.

"The movie was made in the early 40's. Virtually every scene is iconic. Bogart, embittered, is externally tough, but deep within, he is compassionate. There is an incredible scene in which a young wife from Bulgaria married for only eight weeks speaks with Bogart about the plight of herself and her husband seeking letters of transit to get to America via Lisbon. Bogart arranges for her husband to win at the roulette wheel, a scene at once tender and powerful.

"At the end of the movie, Bogart evinces fully his real self and forfeits his future life of love with Bergman by giving his letters of transit to Bergman's heroic husband, who, by now, we find out Bergman had been married to for a number of years.

"In the movie, Bogart personifies qualities that I would call love, and by so doing, epitomizes our common goal of this, our journey around the world to bring PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE.

"Further, Newton Minow, former chair of the Federal Communications Commission, said in a speech in 1961 that TV was a "vast wasteland." Of course, he was right.

"By contrast, Ken Burns, has made 30 documentaries to date. He has, in my opinion, put Hollywood to shame. As I had majored in American history, I was eager to watch Burns's first documentary, THE CIVIL WAR. It was brilliant. Then he made 29 more. Everyone one of them has been extraordinary. Burns deserves to receive the Medal of Honor.

"I have written a love poem about you. I'd like to share it with you now."


THERE IS A TENDER WAY TO TOUCH YOU

There is a tender way to touch you,
not more than a brush across your cheek.
I seek a gentle kiss so not to miss your soft
and red-rose lips that meet mine, the glory
of your darkened hair that falls upon my face
as I unlace your flowered blouse to place
my fingertips upon your silk-like skin to begin
to love the rest of you. I lay you down on soft,
blue sheets, your head upon pillows made of
wild willow leaves softer than robin's feathers.
I bare you beauty slowly that glows like a candle's
flame in a room that is at once so dark and bright.
The light comes from your luminous eyes that smile
at me as I reveal the rest of you from waist to knees
to heels and toes. No one knows the tender touch
I bestow upon your gentle being that I alone am seeing.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 21

  
Why not PLANET PEACE?

Earth is our home, our only home. We are now losing it. The air is foul, the water toxic. Wars do not warm the heart, they ****. 10,000 children on Earth die each day from starvation. Profiteers love to make weapons and money;  to them, human beings are dollar signs and expendable. Wall Street walls out those who have no wealth. Quality education, universal health care, affordable, decent housing for all--forget it. Corruption is the motif of virtually all human endeavors. All human beings are sacred, but depending on their superficiality, they are treated differently. The clothes they wear, the job they have, the title they hold, the house they live in (if they have one), the car they drive--all are facades. Wealth is not worth. Loving, and being loved, are. Most human beings are afraid to be their real selves;  therefore, they unconsciously fake a patina to impress others. If only they knew, felt, their real worth, they would break into freedom. They would feel joy and share it with all others. They would love not only themselves, but also all others. There would be Peace on Earth forever.

PLANET PEACE?

It's there for the making.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 20

"Jon...Jon," said Bian.

"Yes, Bian," replied Jon.

"Jon, you really do love everyone, don't you?' asked Bian.

Jon paused--a much longer pause than usual--then said "Yes, Bian, I do. It's because Maggie, our Black maid as I was growing up, loved me so much.  

"I love all 8 billion human beings on Earth. The problem is that I just haven't had the chance to tell each one of them this. Realizing our goal of passing CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH will be my first opportunity to do so.  

"I believe every child is conceived with the innate capacity--"the seed of love" I call it--to love, but that "seed" can only be germinated by being loved, usually, but not necessarily, by one's biological parents. If the child is not loved enough, or tragically not at all, then the child will not be able to love her/himself or others;  rather, the child will carry unconsciously varying degrees of pain caused by the child's lack of being loved for her/his lifetime, unless the child is later loved fully by someone else.

"The collective effort we are now undertaking is different from the aforementioned only by degree, not by kind.

"Earth, and the vast majority of human beings who inhabit it, suffer terribly from the dearth of love--not only emotional love, but also from the paucity of compassion, which is a form of love. Witness poverty and hunger and homelessness. Lack of universal quality education and universal free medical care. Profitting from the pain of others. Unbridled corruption and seemingly endless wars. Catastrophic climate change and the existential threat of nuclear holocaust. Life on Earth doesn't have to be like this."

Bian put her arms around her husband and gave him a big, long hug, then the two sat down together on their sofa.

"Bian, would you mind if I played my tape of MOOD INDIGO by Duke Ellington?" asked Jon. Beethoven was Jon's favorite, but he also enjoyed jazz.

"I would enjoy that," said Bian.

While they listened to the music, Jon reached in his satchel and pulled out his pen and a piece of blank paper and began writing a poem. Jon finished writing the poem as the music was ending.

"Would you like to hear the poem I just wrote?" Jon asked Bian.

"Of course," said Bian.

"The title of my new poem is JAZZ LIKE A RIVER.


JAZZ LIKE A RIVER

Jazz like a river, headwaters of ragtime
and blues, new orleans, chicago, harlem,
kansas city, armstrong and ellington, holiday
and fitzgerald, cotton club, 52 street, rapids
and rhythms, ******-induced sweetness
and savagery, swinging swing, rivulets
of cords and discords, til 3 in the morning,
mourning the demise of Bird, litany of
gillespie and davis, brubek's west coast
tributary, coltrane, roach, mingus,
ameriica's sinuous contribution to the
nile and amazon of world's music.