What will be the Endsieg? To the aspirations of our youth? To our marriage? To our career? To what we wish best for our children? To our childrens' children? What will be the Endsieg to all our challenges, to all our heated disagreements? To all of our outright fights? And what will be the Endsiege to our collective response to catastrophic climate change? To the existential threat of a nuclear holocaust? Each second, each minute, each hour, each day, each week, each month, each year of our lives, what will be the inevitable Endsiege to each and all of them? We find out the Endsiege to everyone of them, but only at end of each of these myriad life experiences, and not before.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

It is such a short journey, life. In moments, one moves from infancy to old age seeminlgly in seconds. Life is but a shooting star. First, you are here, and then you are there. What has happened? Of what consequence? Your mother's breast, then a red wagon perhaps, a playground of sand and swings, a crush on a fair-haired lass, your first kiss, a miss at the ball that goes whizzing by. Which school to attend, which profession to choose, which sweetheart to capture yours, your children suddenly, this city or that one, a house to become your home, springs of hope, summers of heat and trips to mountains or seas, a fall of desiccated leaves, a winter that portends getting old, all in a flash. Highways of success, dead-end alleys of despair and defeat, then finally you meet yourself. Do you say hello, or do you simply walk by? Your love leaves you in death, leaving you only with memories sweet and now still. What has happened? Where did it all go? Who knows but God and the robin high on an oakwood limb.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I was in 6th grade when I proved the infinite, not the finite, was reality.

I took my 12-inch ruler and pretended it was a magic ruler. It had three buttons on its bottom end:  the left, the middle, and the right. The left button elongated the ruler. The middle button activated the magic drill bit on the top end that could penetrate anything. The third button retracted the elongation.

I took my magic ruler to one of the big windows in the classroom and opened it. I pushed the top end of my magic ruler through the opening and pressed the left button. My magic ruler began to elongate, first through the limbs of trees, then through the sky and clouds, until it went through Earth's atmosphere. It kept elongating. My magic ruler went through our solar system, then through our galaxy, then through outer space deeper and deeper, elongating and elongating it seemed like forever. Finally, it stopped. It had hit something. So I pressed the middle button to activate the magic drill bit. It began drilling through whatever had blocked the elongation.

The magic drill bit kept drilling and drilling and drilling, then drilling even more. Finally, it drilled through the blockage, so I pressed the left button and my magic ruler began to elongate again. It elongated for a long, long, long, long time. When I realized that it could elongate forever, I pressed the third button to retract it, which happened very fast. When it came back through the open window, it was again an ordinary 12-inch ruler.

I took my ruler and sat it on the top of my desk. Then I got a pencil and tore out of my spiral notebook a piece of paper. I wrote down the number 12 and divided it by 2 and got 6. Then I divided 6 by 2 and got 3, then 3 by 2 and got 1 1/2, then 1 1/2 by 2 and got 3/4, then 3/4 by 2 and got 3/8, then 3/8 by 2 and got 3/16, then 3/16 by 2 and got 3/32, the 3/32 by 2 and got 3/64, then 3/64 by 2 and got 3/128, and so on. I realized then that it did not matter in which direction I went. All directions never ended. I had proven infinity, not the finite, was reality.

So why the illusion of our seemingly finite world?

The answer is, we know truth from untruth, a paradox that is paradoxically not paradoxical. The illusory finite is paradoxically the pathway to infinity. It's like a kid growing up. There is a lot of things to learn, and it takes a long time to learn them.

There was no Big Bang. No telescope, however big, will ever see the end-edge of the universe. If we attain enlightenment of our souls on Earth, then when we die, they will become one with the infinite Cosmos that has no form, no beginning, no end:  It is eternal love.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I got fascinated with words when I read in grade school a biography of Noah Webster who was the first person to publish in the early 1800s the first dictionary of American English. I began reading dictionaries for fun. Each new word excited me. As I grow older, my interest in new words got, not surpisingly, more sophisticated, more nuanced. My goal was not to become pedantic--far from it. I collected words like other people collected stones or stamps or coins. Each new word I discovered had a different timbre, a different tone, a different color--one might say a subtly different chiaroscuro. When I began to feel poems welling up inside of me in my early 20s, literally writing themselves as they emerged into my consciousness, my job was to find a pen and piece of paper and "record" what was coming out of me. If I did not act immediately by "recording" this stream of words and phrases, I would lose that poem forever, for each of these poems was ephemeral and belonged to the Cosmos, not I. These processes are how my poems see the light of day and why they are precious to me--at once so powerful and so delicate. In the end, I find my unconscious in some mystical way finds the "precise" word to insert into the exact spot. Therefore, never force a poem into existence. Letting your inner-self create your poem effortlessly, for poetry is like making love: if you have to force either, stop.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

It will get dark soon.
The white, yellow, and pink
houses will turn grey,
then black. The cacophony
of car horns will turn into
the chorus of locusts.
Summer's night will lay
a sheet of tranquility over
a city harassed by exigent
matters that matter not.
Soporific silhouettes will
soften the cityscape,
allowing us to escape
the frazzle of the hot day,
exchanging the frenetic
for the peaceful, the welter
for a sense of the well being.
The susurrus of the evening
breeze blows the exhaust
of our polluted lives into
a distant day. Children play
in yards back and front and
laughter wafts through
neighborhoods like the sweet
smell of barbeque, not the
fetid odor of finance and
foreclosures. There is a
sense of closure to this day.
As the sun sets, our eyelids
close, and we pray for the
soft rain of forgiveness.

Copyright 2019 Tod Howard Hawks

Everybody wants to feel worth, but something is wrong in the way we hope to experience it. I have written a commentary called PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE, which I have sent to every one of the over 200 nations on Earth. My commentary is about loving and being loved. I believe love is the only way to save Earth and all the creations upon it. But the love I feel and envision is not romantic, let alone ******. It is has nothing to do with physical attraction or financial wealth or social status or native intelligence. Yet it seems the whole world thinks all the aforemenioned are the pathways to possessing worth, of feeling worth yourself and from others. No wonder there are so many sad, depressed souls on Earth right now. This global notion is false, the diametrical opposite of the locus of worth. The truth is that everyone has inviolable, sacrosanct worth at her/his center. Love and loving are that worth. All of us are imbued with it when we are miraculously created. By loving first ourselves, having been nurtured by others--our parents, our grandparents, anyone in a position to care for us at our earliest of ages--will mean that as we grow older and our self-love increases concomitantly and exponentially, our capacity to love all others will increase ineluctably. For millennia unfortunately, as well as right now, our world has been, and still is, turned inside-out. I wish it to be to turned right-side in. Then all will not only know the locus of our worth--it is at our center--but also feel it and will want to share it with all others. The mansuetude of love and loving will save Earth and all of its creations.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

I have spent the past two years disseminating my commentary, PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE (see below) to virtually all 200+ nations on Earth. I have used newspapers, radio stations, social groups, NGOs that help the poor, that help those who are hungry or are starving to death, that help those who are being persecuted and tortured by their own governments, to those who are fighting catastrophic climate change, to those who are trying first to curtail the arms race for hydrogen bombs (there are more than 15,000 of them on Earth that we know of officially) each of which is 1,000 times more powerful than the atomic bombs the USA dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

It's my observation that the vast majority of people who are deeply into the use of ever-advancing computer technology want to get rich, and after they get rich, get even richer. I see it differently. I see these advances as opportunities for all human beings on Earth to be able to live a better life, a better life not by getting richer through the increasing acquisition of "things," but of love and sharing. My commentary speaks to my values:

PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE

by

Tod Howard Hawks

PREAMBLE: All we have is our little planet, Earth. For the vast majority of my life, I have thought, "What would it be like to have Peace on Earth?" But for only two, maybe three, weeks every year, usually around Christmas, I would see the phrase "Peace on Earth," mostly on Christmas cards. But after Christmas, I would not hear or see that sanguine notion for 11 more months. The longer I lived, the more this annual ritual bothered me. At Andover, I had studied European history. At Columbia, I had majored in American history. Over time, I increasingly came to the realization that in both prep school and college, I had essentially been studying about wars on top of wars and their aftermaths: millions and millions and millions of human beings being killed. Most scholars believed only a little over 200, out of roughly 3,400 years of recorded history, were deemed "peaceful." Humanity, I concluded, had a horrible track record when it came to effectuating "Peace on Earth." And during my lifetime things have not gotten any better. 

SPIRITUAL ECOLOGY: There is one land, one sky, one sea, one people. The boundaries that divide us are not on maps, but in our minds and hearts. Earth is as poor as its most destitute Citizen, as healthy as her sickest, as educated as her most ignorant. If we pollute the upper waters of the Mississippi, then ineluctably we shall pollute the Indian Ocean. If we continue to pollute our air, the current 7,500,000,000 Citizens on Earth will die. The water and air of the world care nothing about national borders, nor does the pandemic. The imminent threats of nuclear holocaust and catastrophic climate change we need urgently to prevent. This is the truth of Spiritual Ecology.

CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH: If we can wage war, why should we not wage peace? Nations are anachronistic. Therefore, there will be none. There will only be Earth and Citizens of Earth. Each Citizen will devote a sizable number of years of her/his life to the betterment of humankind and Earth. All military weapons - from handguns to hydrogen bombs - will be destroyed, and any future weapons will be prohibited. All jails and prisons will be closed, replaced by Love Centers (see below). Automation and other technological advances will enhance the opportunity for all Citizens exponentially to realize their potential, personally and spiritually. There will be no money. All precious resources and assets of Earth will be distributed equally among all Citizens. The only things Citizens will own are the right to be treated well and the responsibility to treat Earth and all its Citizens well. All Citizens will be free to travel anywhere, at any time, on Earth. All Citizens will be free to choose their own personal and professional goals, but will do no harm to Earth or other Citizens. All Citizens will be afforded the same resources to live a full, safe, and satisfying life, including the best education, health care, housing, food, and other necessities throughout Earth.

LOVE: The only way to change anything for the good, for good, is through love. Love is what every living creation on Earth needs. Love Centers are for those Citizens who were not loved enough, or at all, especially at their earliest of ages. Concomitantly, they act out their pain hurtfully, sometimes lethally, often against other Citizens. Citizens who are emotionally ill will be separated from those who are not. Jails and prisons only abet this deleterious situation. Some Citizens in pain may need to be constrained in Love Centers humanely while they recover, through being loved, so they do not hurt themselves or others. In some extreme cases, Citizens may be in so much pain that they remain violent for a long time. Thus, they may need to be constrained for the rest of their lives, but always loved, never punished. In time, Citizens, when loved enough, will only have love to give, and the need for Love Centers will commensurately decline.

EARTH: In 1948, Eleanor Roosevelt chaired the commission that wrote the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. UDHR, with some updates and revisions, will serve as the moral and legal guidepost for Earth.

GENERAL ASSEMBLY: To honor and remember the former nations on Earth, one member will be elected by Citizens from each of these former nations to serve a one five-year term as a member of the General Assembly. In succeeding elections, Citizens currently residing at that time in areas that were formerly nations, will again, in perpetuity, vote for one Citizen also residing in that area, for a one five-year term as a member of the General Assembly.

FIRST VOTE: The first vote of all Citizens will be to establish CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH. Majority rules. Citizens will have to be 18 years old or older to vote. All Citizens will have access to Internet voting, as well as access to smart phones and other types of computers. Citizens will have her/his own secured ID codes. Citizens will be encouraged to bring before the General Assembly all ideas and recommendations, as well as any concerns or complaints, which will be considered and responded to promptly. Citizens' ideas and recommendations will be formed into proposals drafted by members of the General Assembly. Citizens will have the first two weeks of each month, every month, to vote on these proposals of the previous month. Members of the General Assembly will be facilitators who will work with millions of volunteers. Citizens of Earth will be the Earth's government. There will be no president of Earth.

ALLCOTT MOVEMENT: Citizens of Earth will instigate the Allcott Movement-not boy-, not girl-, not woman-, not man-. but the nonviolent Allcott Movement-against each multinational corporation and every mega-rich individual unwilling to abide by the democratically held, worldwide vote in favor of the CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH. Citizens will continue to use the nonviolent boycott against recalcitrant multinational corporations, and, in a similar nonviolent manner, will continue to use viable pressures against the recalcitrant mega-rich of the world.  All smaller-business wealth will be converted into resources to be distributed equally among all Citizens. All proceeds in excess of what's needed reasonably by each Citizen will be saved for future generations. Consequently, Earth, which for millennia has been turned inside-out will be turned right-side in. Citizens will take these steps because they are the moral, the right, steps to take to save all of us, all other living creations on Earth, and Earth itself.

CELEBRATE AND SHARE: If you were to take a photograph of humanity and gaze at it, you would see a beautiful mosaic of mankind of different, beautiful colors. If you could step into the photograph, you would hear a melody of languages and dialects. You could have a worldwide picnic with all your sisters and brothers and experience different customs and taste different, delicious foods. And in moments of silence, all of you could pray in your different religions, separate but together at the same time. You would also share the same human laughter and joys and feel the same sorrows and cry the same tears, all in Peace on Earth eternal. All of you would come to delight in these differences, not dread them. You would look forward to celebrating and sharing with your family, not killing them. The spiritual whole would be larger than the sum of its sacred parts. 

PEACE ON EARTH: Wealth is not worth. The mansuetude of loving, and being loved, is. When love is your currency, all else is counterfeit. Citizens will be able to go about creating their own happiness that is built on love-based personal relationships and professional activities. No longer will human beings be able to profit from another's pain. With love at the center of being and living, there will be no more corruption, no more dictators, no more wars. Finally, there will only be Peace on Earth forever.

Copyright 2021 Tod Howard Hawks

A graduate of Phillips Andover Academy and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks is a poet and a human-rights advocate.

todhawks@gmail.com


My commentary is only an overview that needs to be expanded and refined;  nonetheless, I believe it speaks to the core problems we all face and desperately need to ameliorate. It is both visionary and viable. The several billion poor, and extremely poor of the world, will join hands, I believe, with the enlightened on Earth that will constitute a majority that will vote in favor of the CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH.

The task to right all the wrongs, to turn Earth right-side in from having been inside-out for untold millennia will be a Herculean undertaking, but millions and millions of volunteers from all over the world will help make these necessary changes if we wish to save Earth and all living creation upon it.

If any of you and your friends wish to be a part on this unprecedented endeavor, please email me at todhawks@gmail.com and include your names and email addresses. I shall keep a list and will contact you all in due course. I thank all of you in advance.

Everybody needs to be loved.

We all shall love them by saving Earth, their home and ours.

Evolution, not revolution. This is the potential
that lies ahead for humanity and its home, Earth.
In my forthcoming novel, LOVE AND LOVERS,
I lay out the path our world can choose to take
to ensure well-being and peace for us all. Since
the sixth millennium BC when Sumer was founded,
mankind has gone in the wrong direction, resulting
not in unity, but in disunity. Concomitantly,
humanity has become increasingly fractured:  wars,
more wars, then even more wars, until we find
ourselves now on the cusp of extinction. LOVE
AND LOVERS will remind us we are one, that
sharing begets peace while aggrandizement ends
in killing, ******, death. Poets, it strikes me,
are particularly sensitive to these truths. I look
forward to sharing them with all of you, as well
as with the rest of the world, with the promise
of LOVE AND LOVERS.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

EXTRA INNINGS

I have outlived my mother
and my father. But I am getting
older, not younger, each inning.
Could I steal bases running
backwards? My poems scatter
the outfield. Some have been
home runs. Iambic pentameter
is playing shortstop. I sit now
in the dugout writing my novel.
The words I throw are strikes.
But I am playing in extra innings,
and I do not know when this
game will end.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

My father had his own bedroom, mother hers. That should had told me something, which it did, but I was too young to understand. As I grew up, father remained emotionally distant from me. Through grade school, I made straight A's, but he never acknowledged it.  Only once did he play catch with me in the front yard. In junior high, I continued to make straight A's, was co-captain of both the football and basketball teams, and was president of the student council, but he never said a word. As a sophomore in high school. I was elected president of our class by over 800 classmates, but father remained silent. As a junior, I was admitted to Andover, the oldest and arguably the most prominent prep school in America, but all father could say to me was 'be of good cheer." I chose to attend Columbia instead of Yale and had a great four years, but father forgot to put film in the camera when he took photographs at graduation. When I dropped out of law school the first day of finals my first semester, my father was enraged, but again in silence. When I began to write poetry, he said, "Go buy a rental property." My father never congratulated me, never gave me a hug, never told me that he loved me. At times he would say mean, hurtful things to me, which still hurt today. I wrote a poem years ago in which I alluded to one of Shelley's most famous poems. My phrase was "farther away than Ozymandias." That was my father.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

The coming of Biden and Harris reminds me of one of the most beautiful and evocative songs ever sung, the first line of which goes something like this:  "If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair." It was written and composed by John Phillips and sung by Scott McKenzie. Implicit not only in its writing and composing, but also in its singing, this song emotes the most powerful message that can ever be delivered to and absorbed by humankind:  LOVE.

I would have been in Haight-Ashbury in June, July, and August of 1967, but I was a patient at the famous Menninger Foundation at that time, the best help of its kind in the world, and expensive (my father was a rich). But it was my mother who finessed my way into Menninger’s, not my father. He wanted me to become an attorney on Wall Street and make millions (now billions). That is, after all, why he had gladly paid a fortune to send me to the best schools in the world:  Phillips Andover Academy (prep school) and Columbia College, Columbia University. I attended law school after college, but began to have problems sleeping that only grew worse during my first semester. The less sleep I got, the more difficult it was to study. Finally, I couldn’t sleep at all. I dropped out of law school right before first-semester finals, an act for which my father never forgave me.  

But my sleepless nights continued even after I dropped out, which ******* up my mind and my life terribly. I had no idea why this was happening to me. If my mother had not surreptitiously intervened and got me into Menninger’s, I no doubt would not be writing this to you. Psychotherapy not only saved my life, but also allowed me, for the first time in my life, to realize I had feelings--my own feelings--my hopes, my dreams, my wishes, my needs. And after months, something magical happened when I unconsciously married my intellect with my new-found feelings:  out of me popped a poem, and I have remained a poet to this very day.

What does what I’ve just shared with you have to do with Biden and Harris? The answer is that both brought, and now bring, great promise, great hope. Out of total darkness comes the bright light of a new beginning--a caring, a compassion, the lack thereof almost brought me to my death, and our nation, democratically speaking, to the same. Now there are, metaphorically speaking, flowers in our hair once more.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

Trees that were green
now are brown, yellow, orange.
The grey sky lies
like a depressed woman
on hilltops and in valleys.
Where is hope? Is it
in the red and rashness
of the berries and seeds?
May I touch the fallow land
like a little country boy,
quick and peripatetic,
finding joy under cracked
leaves and limestone rocks,
hazelnuts and hickory?
The raccoon tells the deer,
"Eat the green leaf,
eat the green leaf
before it dies." Skies are grey;
trees huddle. A forest
is a place for rest.
I lie with the lizard.
I fly with the hawk.
I eat red berries.
I lap the water
that flows between
oak and walnut trees.
The white of winter comes:
I enter my heart
with the brown bear
to keep me warm.

Forget laws.
They are but social expedients.
Take, for example,
PLESSY v. FERGUSON,
the 1896 landmark decision
of the Supreme Court
that made "separate but equal"
the law of land and ushered
in the patently ugly and unjust
JIM CROW laws in the Deep South.
It took until 1954--58 years--to right
this egregious ruling with the unanimous
decision of BROWN v. BOARD OF EDUCATION.

Forget laws.
Always go to your heart
to find the moral--the correct--decision
of all disputed matters. Laws can be flagitious,
but in your heart, you will always find truth.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

Forget the future, past has passed, live in the now.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

FOR MY DEAR FRIEND, ****

I met **** when we both entered
Roosevelt Junior High School. In
9th grade, we both ran for Student
Council President. I beat him. We
both started on our city championship
basketball team, he playing one
forward, I the other. **** was smart
as hell. He sat right in front of me
in algebra class and got better grades
than I. I was told **** wrote a paper
about me in an English class some-
time while at Topeka High. I regret
that I never had a chance to read
it;  I left my junior year to attend An-
dover. One summer night before
college, **** and I doubled-dated.
His father had suffered for years with
manic depression and had spent a
number of years at Topeka State
Hospital. The night **** and I double-
dated, his father had gotten a pass
from the hospital to spend the night
at home. The next morning, I heared
that ****’s father had shot himself
in the head as he sat at the kitchen
table. **** attended KU where he
was elected president of Beta Theta Pi,
the most prominent fraternity on
campus. Years later in the fall of 1979,
I returned to Topeka from Phoenix.
I had heared that ****, too, had
fallen victim to manic depression.
His wife had divorced him. **** had
spent a long time at Topeka State
Hospital, shunned basically by vir-
ually all his former friends. I found
out where he was living and called
him. I was still his friend. In early
November, we drove through the
northeastern part of Kansas where
the leaves had turned beautiful
colors. Every Saturday morning,
I picked **** up to go have break-
fast together. Then we would re-
turn to his apartment where we
would spent the afternoon and
early evening playing cribbage,
watching old movies and sporting
events, and listening to Anne
Murray sing her many hits. ****,
over these years, used beer to
calm himself. He had a favorite
tavern he would go to. One
morning several years later, he
was found dead halfway home.
Nobody ever found out for sure
why he had died. He remains,
even in death, a dear friend of
mine.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

Four letters, one syllable, one Truth. LOVE. Until we come to understand,
to feel, to embrace, to become LOVE, we shall remain in the Dark Ages.
We shall continue to war against each other, to **** each other, to torture each
other, to hate each other, to abuse each other, to discriminate against others.
LOVE is not only the only way out of this hellhole, it is humankind's destiny.
We must first be able to LOVE ourselves to be able to LOVE others. Those who have been loved must begin to LOVE all others. The good news is that once loving becomes the new paradigm, replacing false notions of our worth being "rich and richer," LOVE will spread around the world like a divine virus not killing, but healing. And as LOVE heals us, it will heal Earth. LOVE will finally be realized for what it always has been, the one Truth.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

All 8,100,000,000 Citizens of Earth will govern Earth, not 200 politicians and dictators. There will no longer be nations with artificial borders, only Earth. There will be no more wars. There will no longer be any weapons of any kind from handguns to hydrogen bombs. There will be no money. All Citizens of Earth will equally share the resources of Earth. Aggrandizement will be supplanted by love. All needs of every human being will be met equally. Air and water will be cleansed. No longer will any Citizen of Earth become a source of profit, as there will no longer be profiteering. No longer will there be discriminations of any kind. There will no longer be jails and prisons, only Love Centers where those hurting from lack of love will be loved until unconscious hate will be transformed into love of self, then love of all. And Earth, now on the precipice of self-destruction, will flower into Planet Peace.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

Let us begin with your smile
while my fingers find their way
through your hair where beauty
is glistening gold. I am told
your neck needs no necklace,
for it is one in itself. Your cerulean
eyes see through my heart,
my most sacred part,
which I give to you eternally.
Your soft cheeks  brush against
my own as my lips meet yours
as the moon begins to shine.
All that is mine is yours.
And as I begin to share with you
all of me on this bed softer
than clouds now disappearing,
you and I melt into one another,
not just for these hours of darkened
ecstasy, but forever.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

The title comes from the song SCARBOROUGH FAIR by Simon and Garfunkel. This one line has inspired me to write this poem. Isn't that what Generals do, "order their soldiers to ****?" And that's what soldiers do, as well as being killed, as happens to too many of them. Why don't Generals (who are themselves rarely killed) order their soldiers to love, to put down their weapons and find another human being and give that human being a hug. Maybe even break bread with their fellow member of the human race. Killing each other is insane. We no longer have to use high-powered military weapons to **** our distant relatives. Some crazy ******* (e.g. **** Trump) may accidentally, or on purpose, drop a hydrogen bomb on a city, let's say, and in so doing, **** all of humanity in short order. Nations are anachronistic anyway;  catastrophic climate change, which threatens to **** all living creations on Earth, tells us we are all in this together. There are no national, political boundaries to keep us from possibly dying of the coronavirus pandemic. The Arctic and Anarctic glaciers that are melting as I compose this poem are oblivious to national, political boundaries. So are the toxic fumes that oil-using nations spew into the air that all living creatures eventually breathe and, in time, die from doing so. Why do we need Generals ordering their soldiers to **** when presidents and dictators are doing a far better job of killing than Generals ever could? I myself prefer a hug to a hydrogen bomb.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

GETTING AHEAD OF OURSELVES

We have come far, but in the wrong
direction. Our achievements have
become our bereavements. Bombs,
not beauty, are our apotheosis. We
cling to the penultimate. We have
trouble seeing, breathing. Finally,
we shall have trouble living. Soon,
it seems, we shall cross the finish
line, but running backwards.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

“I am the best thing that ever
walked into your life.” I won’t
ever have to say that to her.
It’s like a Christmas present.
You don’t tell the girl you’re
giving it to what’s in the package.
She has to open it. She has to
tear off the paper and bow.
She will feel it the rest of her
life and cry tears of joy.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

Gilgamesh--two-thirds god, one-third man--was the despot of Uruk. He treated his subjects cruelly. To ameliorate this abominable situation, the gods create Enkidu, who was reared by animals. At first, Gilgamesh and Enkidu fight, but then become friends. They want to cut down a cedar forest that is off limits to mortals. The forest is guarded by a monster, Humbaba, who serves Enlil, the god of earth, wind, and air. With the help of Shamash, the sun god, the two **** Humbaba, then cut down the trees to make a raft. They float back to Uruk. Ishtar, the goddess of love, falls in love with Gilgamesh, but he rebuffs her. Angered, Ishtar asks her father, Anu, the god of the sky, to punish Gilgamesh by bringing down the Bull of Heaven that creates seven years of famine, but Gilgamesh and Enkidu fight and **** the bull. The gods seek revenge and **** Enkidu. Gilgamesh is forlorn, and in his grief begins to wear animals skins. He wanders through the wilderness. Gilgamesh finally meets Utnapishtim to whom the gods have given immortality, but he won't tell Gilgamesh how to gain immortality for himself. Gilgamesh therefore continues his travels, this time through total darkness, until he finnally reaches the sea with its beautiful surroundings. It is there that he meets Siduri. He tells her about his quest for immortality. She responds by telling him to abandon this quest and to learn how to enjoy the pleasures of what remain of the rest of his natural life. Men would die, but humankind would persevere. Gilgamesh is a changed man. He returns to Uruk and sees the city and its people in a different light. He will find meaning and gratification in the years he has left, and humanity will endure.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

Give them no ribbons. My dear friend who was following orders in Vietnam
was blown to bits when he tripped a wire. Give him no ribbons. Ribbons and medals will not bring him back to his wife who is now in her mid-70s, whose two sons and one daughter each have families of their own, but have no Grandpa whose knee to sit on and play games with and just have fun and laugh with. Michael Dillinger went to Iraq to fight because W told him to. Unfortunately, his amored truck hit a road mine and killed Michael instantly.
Ribbons? They gave ribbons to Michael's mother before they buried Michael in Arlington? Ribbons, for God's sake! Did those ribbons and medals really help console Michael's mother? Did Cheney ever call her to see how she was doing? No, he was in charge of creating what he called "enhanced interrogation," a gross euphemism for unspeakable torture and terror that went on at countless, secret camps in the countries of our allies, and still goes on at Guantanamo even today. Give them no ribbons. Take all the ribbons and medals you can find that were given to those soldiers who gave their very lives for lies, for all those soldiers now lying in all the VA hospitals throughout our country, their bodies permanently disfigured, their minds completely lost, and dump that pile of ribbons and medals in the front yard of wherever W lives in the suburbs of Dallas.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I have just finished reading many of my poems.
I do not do this often, but when I do, I am amazed
at their singular beauty, their eloquence, their exquisite
insights. You may think me solipsistic, self-centered,
egotistical. Go ahead. I don't mind. Actually, I
don't care what you or anyone else thinks. But
I do care what I think, because every poem I
have ever written is a real part of me, and if I am
not real, I am false to myself and to the Cosmos,
my ultimate anathema. So many of us believe that
what matters is not truth, but the antithesis thereof.
So many actors and writers and artists and poets
care only that others applaud them, award them
prizes that, for them, validate their creations, their
performances, their poems, and their paintings.
Sadly, these are all collectively grand illusions.
Hemingway wins the Nobel prize, then later
shoots himself dead in Ketchum, Idaho. I have
written that "the poem is the prize," because I
think and feel and believe that is truth. There
will be no opulent ceremonies for me in Oslo,
no Pulitzer Prizes, just as there were none for
William Blake and Walt Whitman and Emily
Dickinson. But each wrote their truths that,
in time, others finally discovered, and while
their poems won no prizes, they became increa-
singly beloved and embraced and treasured.
Truth is the most precious gift you can ever
give to anyone, to everyone. Truth alone is
immortal. Give it to the Cosmos.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

You would do anything if I were your good little boy. You would
spend any amount of money if I were your good little boy. Nothing  
spared to make me your good little boy. A toy, a treat, whatever I
wanted if I were your good little boy. When I was 4 1/2, Mom had
her affair and you opened the door of the bedroom and saw your wife
naked in the arms of another man and it blew you away off the earth,
out of the solar system, out of the galaxy, and you never came back.
That's when I became your good little boy. You got your separate
bedroom, read books about famous men and'how to become rich.
Nothing from your wife, not a huge, not a kiss. Nothing but silence
in the night. That's when I became your good little boy. That's when
I learned to march to the beat of your drum. Even then, I knew uncon-
sciously my life depended on it. I did not get any unconditional love
from you, Dad, only a few crumbs of conditional approval, and only if
i were your good little boy. You used me vicariously for the only gratifi-
cation you could get. I was your only son, and Mom remained so depres-
sed all she could do was watch TV alone in the living room til 1 at night,
then go to her separate bedroom and read paperback detective stories til
3 a.m. As i grew up, the happiness I experienced was at school where I
had friends, many friends, not at home. I loved the house I lived in, but
felt sorry for it;  I was projecting my own deep sadness on to it. I made
straight A's through school, but that just came naturally. One time--I
mean ONE time--Dad played catch with me in the front yard. The
apex of his wishes for me was to attend Andover. When I did, Dad,
of course, went with me. He met the Headmaster and saw what kind
of shoes he was wearing, shoes that you would never see in Topeka,
Kansas, so Dad went out and bought for me the same kind of shoes
the Headmaster had been wearing. How sick was that, I thought!
It wasn't until I dropped out of law school that I first defied my father.
That was when I stopped being his good little boy and began living
my own life. It was also when Dad disowned me emotionally for the
rest of his life.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

shoes the Headmaster

GUN FUN

Gun Fun has swept America.
Gun Fun means you can ****,
and if you’re lucky enough to
own an AR-15, you can **** a lot,
about one human being a
second. Think about it. You
own a machine gun, and
the U.S. government doesn’t
give a ****. Ah, Columbine!
Who could forget that massacre
in 1999? Thirteen students killed,
over 20 wounded. But that just got
the ball rolling. And who could
forget the Sandy Hook Elemen-
tary School massacres in 2012?
Twenty little kids between six-and-
seven-years old murdered execution-
style, plus six adults just for good
measure. Remember how our
Congressmen and Senators
reacted? Of course you don’t,
because they didn’t. Gun Fun
was the new July 4th! The NRA
was celebrating! The 2nd Amendment
was sacrosanct, even though the
AR-15 was not a musket. The list
of these home-grown atrocities is
virtually endless. Gun Fun! Gun Fun!
Gun Fun! And after we get through
cheering, let’s all sing “God Bless America.”

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

Have you ever been homeless?

Have you ever taken a cardboard box and flattened it, then place it on the the cold concrete of a sidewalk, then lie down on it and hope you wake up tomorrow?

Have you ever encountered homeless people? Have you ever talked to them, spent time in their company?

I have.

In Houston, TX in 1992. On Prescott Street in downtown Houston. A veritable sea of black men who called this two-block stretch their home.

I got out of my white rental car and started to walk across Prescott Street where I saw a congregation of black men standing. As I began to cross the boulevard, one black man began to hurl verbally vile epithets at me like a machine gun would incessantly fire bullets. I kept walking. The man keep verbally attacking me. For some reason, these bullets of hate did not threaten me. They seemed to **** by my head without doing any harm. I walked right in front of this understandably tormented soul until I reached the congregation of men.

In this group of men, I found “Rambo,” who, I was told, was the de facto sheriff of this community. I introduced myself to him, using my real name as I always do. Rambo was a giant of a man. When I shook his hand, his hand enveloped mine; it was twice as big as mine. Rambo was so big and strong, he could have, with one arm, swung me easily two blocks in the air. I told him I was both a poet and a human-rights advocate, and I was taking a year out of my life to tour America and see for myself the gross reality of homelessness, hunger, and hopelessness that pervaded our country, and then to speak out about the pain of our people.

While I was speaking with Rambo, the man who had continuously cursed at me as I had walked across the boulevard was still cursing at me, until Rambo looked at him and said in a stentorian voice, “Don’t you realize what this man is trying to do?” The man who had been constantly cursing at me immediately stopped.

I spent the next two hours walking down two blocks, crossing the boulevard, then walking two more blocks to reach my car, all the while stopping to speak to those homeless men who wanted to talk to me, but never bothering anyone who I could tell didn’t want to.

When I reached my car, I opened the car door and started to get in when I saw the man across the boulevard who had greeted me two hours earlier with an unending stream of swear words. Our eyes met. Then that man waved his arm at me. I waved back. Then I heard him yell to me “God bless you.” I yelled back “God bless you.” Obviously, I have never forgotten those two hours. They remain one of the highest points of my life.

So you have asked me “What part of homelessness appeals to people?”

I believe you need to take your own walk through homelessness, endure the initial vitriol, introduce yourself, shake hands perhaps, talk with the human beings who live homelessness, and maybe, in the end, be blessed, as I was, to hear a man who had originally been filled with rage yell to you “God bless you.”

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

As some you know from reading my brief bio below the pieces I have written and posted for HELLO POETRY, I have spent a good part of my life as a human-rights advocate. I'd like to share with you a special recollection of mine with you now so you'll know that the way I share my humanity with those who need some kindness is different often from the ways others do.

It was the spring of 1992. I was in New York City to attend a meeting of Columbia College's Board of Directors of which I was a member. I was walking down Broadway toward Tom's Restaurant, one of my haunts when I was an undergraduate. I was going to have breakfast, my all-time favorite meal. As I walked along, I saw ahead of me a tall black man holding a styrofoam cup hoping those who walked by him might drop a quarter or two into his cup. When I got to where this man was standing, I stopped in front of him. My stopping right in front of him surprised him, I'm sure. I stuck out my right arm hoping to shake his, and as I did, I said, "My name is Tod Hawks. What's your name?" This man was incredulous. Finally, after a long, awkward pause, he said "Hechamiah." I said "Hechamiah what." There was another long pause. Finally, Hechamiah said, "Hechamiah Moore." I then said, "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moore. I'm on my way to have dinner at Tom's Restaurant. Would you like to join me and be my guest?" Mr. Moore was stunned. Another long pause. Finally, Mr. Moore said, "OK." So we began walking together down Broadway toward Tom's Restaurant, and as we walked, we started chatting. I found out Hechamiah was from North Carolina, had married his sweetheart when both were 16, then came to New Jersey
where Hechamiah got a job in some kind of factory. But ten years prior to our meeting, his wife died unexpectedly. Hechamiah told me he just couldn't stand it, so he started drinking and didn't stop. Eventually, he was fired, and for the last eight years had been homeless.

At this point, we reached 112th Street and needed to cross Broadway to enter Tom's Restaurant. We crossed half of Broadway, in the middle of which there was sort of an island where there were a couple of benches. There, Hechamiah just stopped. I asked him, "What's wrong, Mr. Moore?" Hechamiah, after another pause, said to me, "I don't think they want me in there." I paused this time, then I said, "Mr. Moore, there are two reasons why you are going into Tom's with me. First, you are my friend. The second is the United States Constitution." Another pause.  Hechamiah stepped off the island's curb and began to walk across the other half of Broadway. I joined him.

We entered Tom's, first Hechamiah and then I. I saw an empty booth in the rear of the restaurant. I walked ahead of Hechamiah to the booth, then we both took a seat. I could see and feel that Hechamiah was extremely nervous. A lovely middle-aged waitress came over and handed each of us a menu. When she returned a few minutes later, she asked what we would like to order. I told her Mr. Moore was my guest. She looked at Hechamiah and asked him what he wanted. "A cup of Manhattan clam chowder," said Hechamiah. "That's all you want, Mr. Moore?" I said with surprise. He nodded yes. I ordered breakfast.

Hechamiah and I continued chatting. I told him I had been spending the past year traveling around the country seeing and talking to people who were hungry and homeless and hopeless. Politicians, I told him, were interested only in polls and percentages. I was interested in people's pain, so much of which I had experienced, and hoped to help find ways to allay it. I told Hechamiah I had delivered a speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, had traveled to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in the southwest corner of South Dakota--still the poorest place in America, to Houston where several hundred black men slept on folded cardboard boxes that lay on cold cement sidewalks along both sides Prescott Street, 24/7, to Atlanta where I met with Martin Luther King III and former President Carter at the Carter Center, as well as other places and other people.

The waitress had brought us our meals in the interim. We both had finished eating. At that juncture, I said to Hechamiah, "Are you sure you don't want something else to eat, Mr. Moore?" I could see and feel that Hechamiah was becoming increasingly at ease as we shared food and conversation. He said, in fact, he would. When our waitress came by again, Hechamiah was so relaxed that he started to joke with her as he ordered a full meal, and our waitress was so sweet, she just joined in the fun.

Hechamiah finished his meal in short order. It was time to leave Tom's. When we reached the entrance, Hechamiah began to push the door open, but as he had the door just half open, he turned around and said to me, "Mr. Hawks, you are a kind man." I said to Hechamiah, "Mr. Moore, you are a good man." We both stepped onto the sidewalk and shook hands and began to walk in different directions into the darkness, but with our stomachs, and our hearts, much fuller than they had previously been.

Tod Howard Hawks

As some you know from reading my brief bio below the pieces I have written and posted for HELLO POETRY, I have spent a good part of my life as a human-rights advocate. I'd like to share with you a special recollection of mine with you now so you'll know that the way I share my humanity with those who need some kindness is different often from the ways others do.

It was the spring of 1992. I was in New York City to attend a meeting of Columbia College's Board of Directors of which I was a member. I was walking down Broadway toward Tom's Restaurant, one of my haunts when I was an undergraduate. I was going to have breakfast, my all-time favorite meal. As I walked along, I saw ahead of me a tall black man holding a styrofoam cup hoping those who walked by him might drop a quarter or two into his cup. When I got to where this man was standing, I stopped in front of him. My stopping right in front of him surprised him, I'm sure. I stuck out my right arm hoping to shake his, and as I did, I said, "My name is Tod Hawks. What's your name?" This man was incredulous. Finally, after a long, awkward pause, he said "Hechamiah." I said "Hechamiah what." There was another long pause. Finally, Hechamiah said, "Hechamiah Moore." I then said, "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moore. I'm on my way to have dinner at Tom's Restaurant. Would you like to join me and be my guest?" Mr. Moore was stunned. Another long pause. Finally, Mr. Moore said, "OK." So we began walking together down Broadway toward Tom's Restaurant, and as we walked, we started chatting. I found out Hechamiah was from North Carolina, had married his sweetheart when both were 16, then came to New Jersey
where Hechamiah got a job in some kind of factory. But ten years prior to our meeting, his wife died unexpectedly. Hechamiah told me he just couldn't stand it, so he started drinking and didn't stop. Eventually, he was fired, and for the last eight years had been homeless.

At this point, we reached 112th Street and needed to cross Broadway to enter Tom's Restaurant. We crossed half of Broadway, in the middle of which there was sort of an island where there were a couple of benches. There, Hechamiah just stopped. I asked him, "What's wrong, Mr. Moore?" Hechamiah, after another pause, said to me, "I don't think they want me in there." I paused this time, then I said, "Mr. Moore, there are two reasons why you are going into Tom's with me. First, you are my friend. The second is the United States Constitution." Another pause.  Hechamiah stepped off the island's curb and began to walk across the other half of Broadway. I joined him.

We entered Tom's, first Hechamiah and then I. I saw an empty booth in the rear of the restaurant. I walked ahead of Hechamiah to the booth, then we both took a seat. I could see and feel that Hechamiah was extremely nervous. A lovely middle-aged waitress came over and handed each of us a menu. When she returned a few minutes later, she asked what we would like to order. I told her Mr. Moore was my guest. She looked at Hechamiah and asked him what he wanted. "A cup of Manhattan clam chowder," said Hechamiah. "That's all you want, Mr. Moore?" I said with surprise. He nodded yes. I ordered breakfast.

Hechamiah and I continued chatting. I told him I had been spending the past year traveling around the country seeing and talking to people who were hungry and homeless and hopeless. Politicians, I told him, were interested only in polls and percentages. I was interested in people's pain, so much of which I had experienced, and hoped to help find ways to allay it. I told Hechamiah I had delivered a speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, had traveled to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in the southwest corner of South Dakota--still the poorest place in America, to Houston where several hundred black men slept on folded cardboard boxes that lay on cold cement sidewalks along both sides Prescott Street, 24/7, to Atlanta where I met with Martin Luther King III and former President Carter at the Carter Center, as well as other places and other people.

The waitress had brought us our meals in the interim. We both had finished eating. At that juncture, I said to Hechamiah, "Are you sure you don't want something else to eat, Mr. Moore?" I could see and feel that Hechamiah was becoming increasingly at ease as we shared food and conversation. He said, in fact, he would. When our waitress came by again, Hechamiah was so relaxed that he started to joke with her as he ordered a full meal, and our waitress was so sweet, she just joined in the fun.

Hechamiah finished his meal in short order. It was time to leave Tom's. When we reached the entrance, Hechamiah began to push the door open, but as he had the door just half open, he turned around and said to me, "Mr. Hawks, you are a kind man." I said to Hechamiah, "Mr. Moore, you are a good man." We both stepped onto the sidewalk and shook hands and began to walk in different directions into the darkness, but with our stomachs, and our hearts, much fuller than they had previously been.

Tod Howard Hawks

Hegel. The dialectic. A thesis, an antithesis, a synthesis. The foregoing is lucid, intellectual thinking, but ultimately does not bring you to Truth.
Geist, Hegel's word we call 'Spirit" in English, is a step forward, but does
not go far enough. It is amazing to me that philosophers through the ages,
from Socrates through Sartre, have been so smart, so intellectual, that they nonetheless all missed the core meaning of human existence:  LOVE.
In the end, it is not "thinking" but "feeling" that makes all of us one. And
to quote Hamlet, there's the rub:  untold numbers of human beings either
are never loved, or not loved enough. Truth is love. Love is truth.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

Would that Hestia were in the Oval Office instead of **** Trump.
There would be warmth emanating from the veritable center of our
democracy instead of cold, cruel uncaring. Ignorance and gross incompetence are reasons enough for me to throw literally this imbecile out of the Oval Office into the Rose Garden, then onto Pennsylvania Avenue. He alone will be singly responsible for millions of deaths of Americans who contracted the coronavirus, but died from the unconscionable inactions of **** Trump that in turn resulted in myriad medical supply shortages that would have saved untold American lives. Hestia was the Greek goddess of the hearth. Even if she was a mythological figure, she would have at least cared about the well-being of the citizens of any Greek agora.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

How did you like the movie we never saw?
The popcorn, buttered and lightly salted,
we never shared, the sodas we never sipped?
How did it feel not to feel each other's hand,
your arm against mine? What was it like not
to hear the other's laugh or to cling to each
other when the movie we never saw scared
us? What did you think of the leading actor
and actress on the screen, because the screen
was never there? The drama, the plot, the
characterizations, the denouement, because
there were none of these? And the hug we
never hugged and the kiss we never kissed, as
we left the theater that never was there?
How did you like the movie we never saw?

Copyright 2019 Tod Howard Hawks

How do you spread peace across Earth? First, start with your heart. It matters not where or how you begin. Love is in everyone's heart. Your heart has infinite seeds of love in it, as do the hearts of every other human being on Earth. Toss these seeds of love everywhere. It is amazing, miraculous where they may land, and wherever they may land, they wll sprout. Those with megawealth, those who control global corporations, those who compesate their unconscious lack of self-esteem, because they were not loved enough, if at all, as they were growing up, beome not the bestowers of kindness and caring and magnanimity, but are twisted into despots and tyrants and dictators. Throughout their entire lifetimes, they know no love. Hydrogen bombs and all other weapons they know, because they absorb and pervert worldwide the invaluable recources that could feed the starving, shelter the homeless, heal the sick, educate the unenlightened. Humanity has spent millennia killing each other. Now it is time to take the real power on Earth, Love, and live and love as one. Fling your infinite seeds of love from your hearts everywhere and watch them sweep over all of Earth and watch Peace on Earth bloom forever before your eyes.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

I think I want to help,
but how heavy?
I think I want to be there,
but where?
I know that I like people,
But how many?

I will let the coffee brew.
I will pause to think it through.
I will help in time.

Copyright 2019 Tod Howard Hawks

HUNGRY, HOMELESS, HOPELESS

Mankind has suffered through a pandemic
from when it first set foot on Earth:  not only
killing and torture and slavery, but also hunger
and homelessness and hopelessness  Why
has it taken thousands of years for human
beings to realize, and then to create, a just
world that is still as impoverished as its poorest,
as healthy as its sickest, as ignorant as its most
uneducated? All lives on Earth are meant to be a
collaborative effort, which is called love. To love,
one must first be loved. If loved, one then has
love to give, This concatenation, this progression,
once begun, will grow exponentially, endlessly:  
it will be a pandemic in reverse:  love, not hate;  
compassion, not revenge;  sharing, not hoarding.
This is what Earth was meant to be, a lonely planet,
yes, but a home for all living creations where love
increases the more it is shared.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I have died.
No more shall I ever be a human being.
Never again shall I live on Earth.
I am now pure love.
I have no form, no beginning, no end.
I am infinity, as you will also be,
as well as all who came before
and will come after,
after many reincarnations.
Blessed is eternity.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I am in love with this young woman.
She dances through my dreams
like a filly foal, frisky, full of fun.
She knows she is a beauty,
but wants to share with me each iota
of her new-found feminity.
She prances into my my heart
with no timidity and makes her home
there to share her love with me
unfettered, unafraid. She wraps
her braided golden hair around
my chest so I can sleep not nor rest.
The rest is ecstasy that has no end,
except a new beginning of the same.
Tame she is not. She is Eros come aflame.
Shame? Why should she be?
In some cosmic way, she has always known
that fluids she ******* are but tears
of pure passion, joy, to be savored
by her and me. Night becomes day,
but there is no end to this melody
of moans and murmurs. I hold her
in my arms forever,
this young woman whom I love.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I am old now. I used to be just smart. Now
I am wise. Living 76 years will do that to
you. Knowledge tells you that all things
are different;  wisdom that all are one. In a
classroom, your goal is to raise your hand
first. To sit on a hillside alone in silence is
to say you are wise, that all the books of
knowledge are in libraries around the world,
but all wisdom of the Cosmos is inside you,
and has been even before you were conceived.
I know that sounds paradoxical, but that is
the essence of wisdom. When you lean back
on the hillside and gaze at the blue sky and
the white clouds and feel the soft breeze
that blows gently across your face, you feel
your omniscience, and your arm is not waving
wildly in the air, but rests serenely at your
side. Wisdom needs not to talk. It is the
silent music of the soul.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howad Hawks

Life begins at conception.

For a human being to be able to love, she/he must first be loved, usually by her/his biological parents, other times by her/his surrogate parents. If the newborn is not loved, she/he will suffer great pain, possibly even dying.

Most human beings do not receive the love they need;  thus, they will unconsciously compensate usually in one or more of three ways:  accrual of power, not to empower others, but to oppress them;  aggrandizement of wealth;  or achievement of fleeting fame.

If, on the other hand, they are loved, they will love all others throughout their lives, realizing their personhood, which is their innate sacredness. If they are not loved, they will realize one or more of their deleterious behaviors.

When all die, those who realized their personhood will not return to Earth to live another life, because their soul has become pure love that bonds with the pure love of infinity, which is reality that has no form, no beginning, no end. They have become enlightened and will be so forever.

Those who did not attain their personhood, realizing only one or more of their deleterious behaviors, will need to return to Earth in a new life unconsciously to make another attempt to attain enlightenment.

Love is infinite, the finite illusory. The latter remains nonetheless the paradoxical path to the reality of eternal love.

Know truth by untruth.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I do not belong to Democratic Party. I do not belong to the Republican Party. I belong to Love. I am not a citizen of the USA. I am a Citizen of Earth, as we all are, which means that all us belong to Love, whether we're conscious of it or not. There are so many ways to love, and the world needs them all. The world needs as much as it can get. The air needs to be loved. The rills, the rivulets, the streams, the rivers, the lakes and ponds, all oceans need to be loved. I belong to Love. Meadows, forests, hills and mountains, deserts, all need to be loved. Dogs and cats, tigers and lions, moongooses and gorillas, all the animals need to be loved. Porpoises and whales, dolphins and seals, jellyfish and manatees, all kinds of fish and sea creatures need to be loved. I belong to Love. Bluebirds, robins, mockingbirds, hawks and eagles, all our winged friends need to be loved. Tulips and roses, the amaranths and amaryllis, daisies and dandelions, all need to be loved. And all human beings need to be loved, all races, all people with different skin colors, people who practice all the different religions, the mentally and physically infirm, babies and toddlers and teenagers and adults and the elderly, all need to be loved. I belong to Love. We all belong to Love.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

If you cross me, I disappear.

If you lie to me, I disappear.

If I find you to be a racist, I disappear.

If you are a bigot, I disappear.

If I find you to be unkind, I disappear.

If I find you to be despicable, I shall not get within 1,000 miles of you.

You are sick, and I do not want to catch any of your diseases.


Copyright 2019 Tod Howard Hawks

I envision a different kind of world. I envision a world of love. If ever you were loved, love will be what you give to the world. You will never run out of love. The more love you give, the more love you will have to give. Wealth is not worth. Love, and loving, are. Our world is turned inside-out. Love will turn it right-side in. Those who hurt others are themselves hurting terribly and unconsciously, because they were not loved enough, if it all. Those who hurt others don't need punishment, they need love, to be loved and loved until ineluctably they feel loved and become filled with love. And love will become their currency, and everthing else will be counterfeit. Love, and only love, is the cure for our sick world.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

I used to hate,
but once loved, I
feel sorry for you now.
I feel sorry you
were never loved.

You who loathe
and discriminate, I
feel sorry for you now.
I feel sorry you
were never loved.

You who wish
the colored hell, I
feel sorry for you now.
I feel sorry you
were never loved.

You who'd torture
and even ****, I
feel sorry for you now.
I feel sorry you
were never loved.

You are humankind
but still unkind, I
feel sorry for you now.
I feel sorry you
were never loved.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

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 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 your 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.

Copyright 2019 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

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

If you were kinder than I,
you would treat me with respect.
If you were brighter than I,
you would not flaunt your genius.
If you were richer than I,
you would not call me a pauper.
If you were socially elite,
you would not mock my status.
If you were my superior,
you would sit beneath me.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

We fight wars then write novels
and make movies about them.
Mentally ill people **** 19 children
with their military-grade AR-15s
then show horrendous videos on
the evening TV news. Murders,
rapes, tortures, and other atrocities
are reported on, and the corporations
that own them profit grossly from
the aforementioned grotesque.
I have better ideas. Let's stop war-
ring and start loving all others.
Let us rid ourselves of all weapons
from handguns to hydrogen bombs.
Stop profiteering from poisoning our
only home, Earth. Let us follow
true leaders rather than corrupt
politicians. Let us go to our hearts
that tells us what are the right
decisions to make, the right things
to do.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I have come to walk
among mountains,  
meander among
meadows, sit among
clusters of wildflowers.
I have come to taste
the sweetness of blue
air, red skies, the orange
of the sun. I embrace
the fullness of rivulets
and streams. I eschew
silence and shadows:
I listen to and watch
monarchs flutter their
golden wings. All this
I soak into my soul.

Copyright 2019 Tod Howard Hawks

I have spent most of my life
walking through department stores.
I have come to feel that
Bill Blass, Ralph Lauren, and Calvin Klein
are close friends.
I ride the escalators for exercise.
I have become a professional cologne tester.
I check my credit rating daily;
American Express knows me
by my first name.
I have been married and divorced three times--
to two mannequins and a sales clerk.
I got stuck once in a revolving door
during the entire "Summer Madness" sale.
During annual clearance I inadvertently
got marked down to $42.50,
but due to inflation,
I have regained my worth.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS