Sometimes tears feel like broken glass
Like pushing a gem out of my eyes
Causing them to scratch and burn
Causing my vision to blur
And my lashes to wet
Sometimes the gems that are tears fall and shatter
Like the first drop of rain on the pavement that is my bathroom floor
Soon causing a puddle of shimmering diamonds
There's beauty in the sad
And pain in the beauty

Dear intruder in my mind
Skillfully you hide inside -
At length I search and seek you out
But you are nowhere to be found!
You wear me out, I run around
And can't find peace, But all the same
I know the secret of your game
Your voice inside my head is mine

Comforting possiblity
That, still, you suddenly recall
The ultimate futility
Of doing anything at all

I have been mad, addicted
With conjuring your presence
I'm hopelessly afflicted
With longing for your essence
But I do not seek your attention
For you are but my mind's creation

Do I need a mountain peak
and have my visage chiseled
in it? Or do I need a continent
named after me because I
conquered it? Or do I need
a religion I fostered by mysteries
and miracles to have multitudes
follow me? Or perhaps only a
touch of kindness, my hand upon
another's heart, that will reverberate
throughout all endless ages?

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

THE AMERICAN FASCIST PARTY

There are two, maybe three, members
of the American Fascist Party (formerly
the Republican Party) who still believe
in democracy, who are not racists, who
believe that all Citizens of the United States
of America still have the sacred right to vote,
who still have compassion for those who
sadly gaze at the Statue of Liberty while
searching through heaps of garbage hoping
to find enough to eat to live another day,
who huddle on frozen concrete in groups
of five or six to survive Febrary's -15 degree
nights. Those I've described are called human
beings. Those I haven't are called hateful bigots,
Neo-Nazis, crazed members of the American
Fascist Party.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

Ungun Earth.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

Love is all. All is love.

The smallest thing you can see is an atom. The largest things you can see are billions of galaxies. All the things we can see, however small or large, are illusions. Love, though we cannot see it, is infinite, is reality.

If you know a dialect or language that is different from English, write to your friend who speaks that dialect or language and tell your friend you’re thinking of her/him.

Also, please share with her/him my commentary, PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE, with the hope it can be translated into the dialect or language she/he speaks. As well, ask your friend if she/he could do the same with a friend of theirs, if their situation is the same as yours.

No one can ever receive too much love.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS