My dad is a hero
He works so hard
      Just for us
He looks so busy all the
         Time
He comes back home
        İn the evening
Never forgetting my toys
        In this fuss
My brother and i love him
                To nuts

The way we cry, and
if our cryings be heard,
the way they are attended to
will set the walk. The way we
are treated as toddlers, the way
punishment may be meted out,
will further the course. Kind-
nesses, magnanimity of spirit,
love--all will determine not only
the paths we are led down, but
also the paths we shall set for
ourselves and travel ourselves--
pathos, bathos, ethos--until
death deals an end to our
earthly peregrinations. These
spoors--the lives, the lanes,
the passages we shall be
traveling--will tell us, and
others, about who we are,
and were, and if we were
befriended ever by others,
and by ourselves.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I am an architect,
I am a lawyer,
I am an accountant,
I am an engineer,
I am a surgeon
I am pharmacist,
I said,
I made you all,
I
Am
A
Teacher
28/7/2025

My hand moves left to right,
over a blank piece of paper,
smudging what I write.
As my sleeve
absorbs my pens red ink,
The edge of my white sweatshirt
turns a shade of light pink.
"just roll up your sleeves"
I can't, not even a little bit.
It may not seem like a big deal to you,
but that's where I hide my secrets.
You may be okay with sharing yours,
But I try to forget mine exist.
You write your secrets in a diary,
and I write mine on my wrist.

Snow of white divides the black
of which I couldn't dare to sing,
A search for a holy night in a sight
that the coppers restlessly brings
I couldn't tame the holy light
that a new-sunshine finally brings,
This is what we fight for, not a tease
but the gentle of those little breezes.

That's me what I'm now, my life is certain.
You'll call me, and I'll say: 'Hello, I'll call later.’
You'll answer: 'OK. I got it. No problem.'
And I'll left with a guilt that you're a waiter.

The time will trip forth, to feelings athwart.
And you'll await for my call all the same.
My answer to you is my heavy load now,
My refusal words and short tones after them...

And you'll await for my call until last,
Until your last profound sigh.
If I could turn all things around,
I'll call you back after a while...
Forgive me...

I'm a good person,
I don't need reminding of it.
Even so,
Friends and family tell me,
I'm a good person.

I'm a good person,
I truly don't have to remind myself.
Even so,
My demons tell me:
"I don't deserve to think I am."

I'm a good person,
No need to remind me.
Even so,
My actions and compassion
Is proof that I am.

I'm a good person,
Sometimes I remind myself.
Even so,
My demons tell me:
"I don't deserve to think I am."

I'm a good person,
My loved ones remind me of this.
Even so,
I don't want to believe it.
At times I feel I don't deserve to.

I'm a good person,
I need to remind myself.
Even so,
Even if I have to remind myself,
I will know...

That I'm a good person.

The moon spread her wings
Then danced across the night sky
Anticipation

Abba, forgive me and forget
     The sins for which I live disgraced
     And face the wicked world shame-faced,
And I shall live to prosper yet.

I think about the sea fondly
It's beauty can only be compared
to it's vastness

Whether sun or moon
The light reflected from both
leaves me mesmerized

The further I go into the sea
The more I find out
of it depth

And the more I see its vastness
The more I realize that
I know so little about it

I want to know more about it
I want to explore it's inner sanctum
I want to see both the light and dark that reside within it

I think of the sea fondly
I know that the time I have with it is short
But every moment I have with it
feels as if time has stood still.

I came
to the foreign city
hoping to find myself
but instead
I have lost myself
even more

we're in the same boat, huh?
they treat us like queens for years
then a baby comes along and now we're need to be adults
we're not allowed to be mad
because they're just a baby
they don't know better
then it stays like that

.
.
.

you really get me, don't you, Pearl?

I ease myself into the uncomfortable.

I'm too tired

And I remember thinking—
I wish someone would look at me that way.
As if they had battled it for a lifetime,
Through seasons and snow and sun -
Across cities and oceans and mountains
In innocent youth and wearied age,
As if they had finally surrendered and had no choice but to look.

In the way it takes all a person’s will and strength to look away
And they have been worn down, beaten, bruised
To the point of weakness, of giving up.
And now, all they are left with is their truest self, exposed down to the bone
& no strength to battle the inevitable
Draw of their eyes to mine.

I want someone to look at me as if I am their lifeline,
And their death-bringer.

It takes one look into your eyes,
and I can tell you're not alright.
The words you don't say aloud
lay heavy on your chest at night.
Every time you cry
I wish I was allowed
to give you a reason why,
a will to live, a will to fight.
I want you to be alright.

It took one look into your eyes
to know you would rise
high into the sky
after you said your last goodbye.

If I were to be given the option to **** you,
I would do it gently.
Lovingly.
I would hold your head in my lap
as I feel you become a heavy corpse.
I would lay flowers on your chest
as your breathing slows.
I would pray that you are both confused
and disgusted
by the sheer magnitude
of my forgiveness.

That it haunts you as you take your last breath.

That it haunts you in death.

In the end,
everything I write is about you.

Too many of us prize the place over the person.

When I dream, I dream of hobos--6 to 8 of them--huddled around a make-shift fire next to the railroad tracks eating warmed cans of pork and beans. We chat, tell stories and jokes, and sometimes break into laughter.  Maybe Woody Guthrie is among us.

Other times, I dream of the **** death camps, not an easy, not an enjoyable, thing to do. But that did happen, and not by economic circumstance. And even if fleetingly, they were together. I think that's what draws me to them.

Sometimes I dream of the Lakota Ogala Sioux before Wounded Knee put an end to them and their way of life. I see Crazy Horse, one of my few heroes, always self-effacing, and as true as the arrow he just shot as he was to his word.

And when Martin Lither King, Jr was murdered on a balcony of the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee by a single rifle bullet to his head, 4 April 1968, I dream of standing over him with others, crying.

The ugliest place I've ever seen is Versailles. Opulence on top of opulence on top of even more opulemce. Made me want to throw up.

Often, maybe too often, we prize the place over the person.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I’m crazy enough to like you
Even though you hate me
Hate is a strong word
Like the love I feel inside me

I try to stop the feeling
But it comes back stronger
I just want it to stop
I don't want it any longer

I know my feelings are a burden to you
So I try to hide it
This one sided love will stay as is
Because you can’t commit

I am but punctuation to your wonder;
though not the important kind.
The optional kind.
The forgotten kind.

I knew that you planned to leave,
after all my text were left unread,
And you'd stop calling me every night,
it spoke the word you were afraid to,
so I did for you,
asking you why,
what had gone wrong,
And if it was my fault,
but you apologized,
and said it was you,
not me,
which I knew was a lie,
since you're just too kind to tell me.

When I met her
the flowers gave me my lines,
my world rippled new colors,
and words called to me
from the sun, moon, and stars.

Actresses and models devour brains and manipulate the faux consent

Shallow puddle of stilled mudd

I'm not a simple ****

I could be in jail by now

Where is the Muppet baby learning in jail outfit?

Mostly early Gumby city corruption depictions

Zoe The Glob!

The glob is the city attorney from city hall
Don't touch his expensives
He's on vacation recital yearly ignore you!

It's typically a mash unit end of the war reason your learning losses are eminent

When you come home from war the mash!

But the movies have uniforms?

Learn Gumby, hurry the lights gonna change

What do you mean Watergate and real estate fraud!

We're the arts council

Oh I remember now
History always wins for the city attorney has records
We can't see the old ways

Show Buckingham
We are army but we defect
And are poor leaders

you tell me to express emotion,
not to bottle everything inside,
but when i try and listen to you,
you make me want to hide.