It's 4:36 in the morning and you are lying beside me asleep.
The room, of course, is dark. I've been awake for a while now
thinking about things, things like the concatenation of wars
throughout millennia, men following orders from Generals
to **** other men, the corruption that has pervaded so many
facets of our lives, of the billions of human beings who were
not loved enough, if at all, when growing up. The world has
been turned inside-out for eons. Been thinking how to turn
the world rightside-in. And then I turn my head and look at
you and instantly realize the solution to world catastrophes.
Love. It's love, and only love, that can save the world, and all
living creations on it, from self-destruction. Bless your heart,
my dear. I lean over and give you a gentle kiss--gentle so that
I do not disturb your peaceful slumber.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

If I touch your rosen cheek,
if I pour your golden hair
upon my face to bury it in
brilliant glow, if I place the lips
of yours upon my own and
leave them there forevermore,
if I press my finger now to
your neck of silk to begin
an endless journey down your side
unbridling all to bare beauty
to behold, if I told you what I
see, if I told how it makes me feel,
you would think me crazed and
amazingly your thoughts be true,
so lean your head on pillow blue
and I shall make love to all of you,
then afterwards again and again.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

Played catch with me once
(as in "one" time)
Never had a conversation with me.
Never said he was proud of me.
Never asked me how I felt.
Had three letters typed
by his secretary sent to me
in the seven years I was at
Andover and Columbia;
the word "love" was typed.
Never  said he loved me.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

If I touch your rosen cheek,
if I pour your golden hair
upon my face to bury it in
brilliant glow, if I place the lips
of yours upon my own and
leave them there forevermore,
if I press my finger now to
your neck of silk, to begin an
endless journey down your side
unbridling all to bare beauty
to behold, if I told you what I
see, if I told how it made me feel,
you would think me crazed and
amazingly your thoughts be true,
so lean your head on pillow blue
and I shall make love to all of you,
then afterwards again and again.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I met Al at Menningers.
We were both patients there.
We were both on Men's Work Group.
The more I got to know Al, the more I
liked him. When we both got out of the
hospital, we spent time together.
He bought a farm north of Lawrence
and began farming organically, unusual
for a guy who grew up in Sutton Place,
one of the most expensive places to live
in the world, smackdab in the heart of
Manhattan, NYC. His great-grandfather
was a partner of J.P. Morgan. His father,
who owned five mansions around the world,
chose the one in Virginia in which to blow
his brains out against the wall of one of the 23
bedrooms. Al was up at 6 every morning
in his overalls to begin driving his tractor
in the fields and didn't stop until the sun
went down. You'd never know Al was a
billionaire, unless you became a buddy of
his, which I did. He was a bit eccentric person
at times, however. For example, he enjoyed
buying mostly classic foreign cars which he
had fun driving around for a few months,
then driving each into the field next to his
small house and left them there. From time
to time I'd drive down from Topeka to his
farm, then the two of us would go to a
steakhouse just outside of Lawrence, then
eat and chat. Al was one of the nicest guys
I ever met.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I won't live no more  
in that old shrunk white house.
I'll live in them woods.
I'll live in them fields.
I'll live in them mountains
or on the beach.
I won't have to listen
to all them dumb ads
on TV, all them commercials
about fat burgers that will **** ya,
cheap, glossy fake diamond rings,
new cars that look all alike,
insurance guys that make me sick.
I'll lie under the sky and sing
to them stars, kiss the sun good morning,
enjoy the company of deer and squirrels,
find the freshest air and breathe it,
the clearest water and drink it.
I'll be free 'til I die, and free forevermore
when I do. I won't live no more
in that old shrunk white house.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I'm thinking of Gandhi.
As far as I know,
he never wrote a poem.
But his life was one
of the greatest poems ever.
His poem's theme
was nonviolence.
I would say its theme
was LOVE, love of self
and of everyone else.
He defied despots
not with guns, but with
the steel of love. He walked
to the sea with thousands.
He never fought with hate,
but by fasting 'til death,
if need be. His net worth
was $1 when he was shot
dead. He was the richest
man on Earth, and one of
the greatest poets ever.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS