The fingertips of the trees leave space for the
sky.
The sun with his prowess gives them light
while
branches flow as veins of the earth.

Streaks of clouds like ribs to the sky,
winding
as an atlas of forgotten paths,

dance o'er shaded silhouettes
of
yesterday's bounty.

The fallen leaves of yesteryear's grace
ebb
to their resting and etch their monument
in
time.

And the moon, supple in her gesture,
whispers
the star dusted secrets of tomorrow's

fortune.

Perhaps many of you have already gotten a similar plea from Eliot York. But I wanted to post this as a way of helping to spread the word that money is needed to keep this poetry web page going.

I am not able to do much by way of donations, except for a few "sun shines on a poem or two each month. Perhaps if a few more of us could do the same, it might be a small way that would add up and Hello Poetry could be kept afloat.. Below is Eliot's message to me and I am sending to you..

Hi Aztec,

This is Eliot, from Hello Poetry. I hate to bother you, but I need to raise funds to keep Hello Poetry running.

If you're able, Hello Poetry could really use your support now. Buying sunshine, donations through paypal, or spreading the word-- anything helps!

http://hellopoetry.com/donate/

Let me know if you have any questions or feedback.

All the best,
Eliot

The looking-glass self

Your stabs hit me exactly where you hope they would
with such ferocity that gouges out all vanity and conceit.
A knife ****** through the illusions of my bloated ego,
An ugly distortion of an inner image through a plastic glass
which finally crumpled with me looking at the looking-glass self.

The angels must have smiled
When your little fingers fluttered
Open like delighted sunflower petals
Upon your mother's tears and
Your father's joy in the curve of
His mouth. They must have.
For I surely would have.

You are the umbrella to rain
You are the soft wind in a summer day
You are the relief to my pain
You are the blanket to the cold
You are the hand to hold when
everything slips
You are the book that stays open
for those who would want to dream more.

Fate is beyond us but friendship
is truly magical right?
I'd let the threads of time weave
some more, some more.
Until the day it fulfills a beautiful story
of friendship fated, friendship kept.

The world shall fall as they fall
In their ruin, everything will follow
And so it ends

Bring in the seraphim
Tear the pure clouds, reveal the gods above
If doubt is a stronger virtue
Then I am its paragon

Women fall at lofty feet in a harem
Gorging on peasants' spines 'till faces turn mauve
Fear is the new moral breakthrough
A scale higher than the utmost echelon

The world shall destroy as they destroy
In their ruin, everything will follow
And so it ends.

The snake bite no longer stings
Calloused as a tyrant's compassion
The purest hands do grow relentless weeds
As they laze on the filthiest plots

Kings and hearts mount to slings
Foreboding most malleable deception
Blood spills bright on their letterheads
As truth gets set by red-handed bureaucrats

The world shall burn as they burn
In their ruin, everything will follow
And so it ends.

Marksmen are wealthier than diplomats
Golden bullets to the golden rule
The trend is to laugh at our silence
The principle is to break lives not dictates

There lies no purgatory for these aristocrats
On to the vile ember cesspool
Until then, they fawn in worldly omnipotence
And not one revolts, not even conscience

The world shall end as they end
In their sceptre,everything follows
And so it goes on.

sometimes the feelings
(those lonely and somber dealings)
just make it seem like i am dreaming

the sky floats all around us
(making us look so superfluous)
and it twists around in our guts

we tell ourselves to stay strong
(not without wrong)
but really we are just stuck in a pretty song