The Web Poetry Corner
The Web Poetry Corner
Todd, NC, US
If you have comments or suggestions for Kelly Greene, you can contact this author at:
firstname.lastname@example.org (Kelly Greene)
Find a book store near you, no matter where you are located in the U.S.A.!
...the best independent ISP in the Twin Cities
The black and white definites
Are enough to fully enrage me.
Why does there have to be a line
So clear-cut between the opposites?
Light or dark, good or evil, love or hate-
I'm tired of hearing all the stubborn,
Fully one-sided arguments about good and evil.
Why is it such a horrible idea
To see the world neutrally, naturally grey,
In degrees instead of extremes?
I don't understand what the big deal is,
It's only a game of chess.
Yes, but it's so much more than that.
It's strategy, compassion, and manipulation;
A world filled with hate and prejudice
Pitting one side against the other.
And once again I sit on the sidelines,
Blue-grey eyes shadowed by sorrow.
Why can't the pawns see what's right in front of them-
A peace treaty just waiting to be signed?
Do they enjoy fighting so immensely
That they must ignore the option of peace?
I think that saddens me most of all-
The heat of battle-lust over-riding rational thought,
And a simple game of chess becomes
A raging, uninhibited, preventable war-zone.
He hid in the shadows,
The face behind the mask.
His destiny was charted,
His future all planned out.
Marry a nice girl,
Settle down with kids.
Become a doctor,
Be a rich psychiatrist.
Not wanting to disappoint,
He followed his parents' dreams.
He had money,
Married a nice girl,
Had a few kids,
Started a medical career.
He was happy for awhile,
Then his life fell apart.
His wife left him,
His daughter was raped,
His medical career flopped.
A kid died,
A promise to his parents
On his lips.
"I promise I'll follow your dreams
As long as they don't
Interfere with my own."
Suddenly the doctor saw
His life had been a lie,
And there was no way to salvage it.
I look at her and sigh in discontent.
I want to know what she's thinking.
Is she wondering if her parents are alright?
Is she devastated because of someone's death?
I am so frustrated;
I want to know what she's feeling.
My empathy doesn't want to work....
Or is it that I don't want to feel anymore?
Am I afraid of getting hurt?
I honestly don't know.
I don't know what I think anymore,
I don't know what my opinions are.
Everything in this world is so bland,
Everything is so completely transparent.
What is it that I am missing?
Is there something no one's telling me?
I don't know what you're feeling anymore,
I can no longer see it in your eyes.
And that terrifies me most of all.
My empathy was my way in,
My way in to the world,
The way that I survived.
My empathy told me everything,
Told me all their secrets.
Once upon a time,
I would look at her and see
A girl filled with distress
And remorse over a break-up,
Possibly a home-life crisis.
But now all I can spot is restlessness,
Because that's all I feel anymore.
And it saddens me and terrifies me.
I am so afraid of not feeling anything
And the fear has invaded my soul.
For some unfathomable reason,
I locked away the fear,
And with it all other emotions.
I have to find the key to unlock my emotions,
But I don't know where to begin looking.
Perhaps unlocking my shields would
Be the wisest course of action....
But I don't know if I'm brave enough.
I don't know if I can stand on my own,
Vulnerable and open to the world.
But I suppose I must try-
How else will I face my fear
And regain the ability to see the
True desires of other human beings?
How else will I be able to heal them,
Unless I first find the key to my fear,
Discard it, and heal myself?
I must help myself before I help them,
Otherwise I might end up stuck
In some unfathomable misery
That no one can retrieve me from.
And I don't want my story to end like that,
An ending that seems the most likely.
And that is what I'm afraid of-
That I'll die without knowing the true
Meaning of what it is to live.
I must make a leap of faith here-
I must take a first step.
And so I will.
In The Eyes of Strangers
I look to the sky for an answer,
I only want to know how to live.
The clouds part with their moisture,
And soon the water pounds the ground.
A torrent of rain floods the city,
Peoples' homes and lives destroyed.
A baby lies dead in the mother's arms;
I see the tears in her eyes.
A homeless man says his last words;
I see the fear in his eyes.
A doctor yells for a stretcher;
I see the despair in his eyes.
A civilian cries out for an answer,
Wants to know what the meaning is
Of the horrible loss of life.
Children clutch their parents' hands;
I see the joy in their eyes.
Friends hug through their tears;
I see the relief in their eyes.
Lovers embrace passionately in the street;
I see the love in their eyes.
And then I understand.
Without a bit of rain,
There would be no sunny days.
All this in the eyes of strangers.
Would you like to know the meaning
Of imperfect memories?
Nothing is as simple as so
Many of you would like to believe.
You think an imperfect memory
Is sneaking out and getting caught,
And the only bad thing is being caught?
So many in this world are naive.
You want to know what imperfect
Because I can certainly show you.
Have you ever cowered in your bed,
In the dark blanket of night,
Hoping that your parents wouln't
Involve you in the middle of their fights?
Hope that you wouldn't have to choose
Your father's side again, because
He was generally in the right?
And then have to spend the night
In the car, being locked out of your house?
How do you get a good memory from that?
That type of memory is nothing but imperfect.
There is nothing good in that memory.
Not even the shallow, "At least you were right."
Who cares if you were in the right?
Your own mother locked you out of your house
Because you choose his side over hers.
Tears streaming down your face
Only in the cover of darkness,
Because your mother believed you to
Be too strong to cry.
So your "weakness" was endulged in
Only in the shadows where no one could see.
I have many imperfect memories,
And they are nothing like you believe them to be.
Imperfect memories aren't circumstancial,
Such as dancing in the rain and getting a cold.
Imperfect memories are the ones you cannot control,
The ones you cannot change.
They are the memories that leave you shaking,
A huddled mass of fear because of remembering.
Imperfect memories are a horror to deal with,
Not something to be proud of.
Honestly, you people think you know this world.
How can you know this world when you think
Imperfect memories are something to cherish,
Something to be proud of having.
You haven't even learned how much fear
Those memories can cause even years later,
When the object of your terror is gone,
And you wake up shaking,
Afraid to sleep because of the dreams.
Because of the memories.
How is that for imperfect memories?
I certainly wish I had some more of them.
I turn my head and look away,
Not willing to face the world that made me who I am.
I do not wish to relive the memories
Of the fights my parents had when
They believed that I was deep asleep,
Cloaked in the silent caress of darkness.
I do not want to face the emotional scars
That run deeper than any river.
I do not wish to face the night my mother
Deemed to let me know she didn't care,
As I drowned myself in pills whose
Name I didn't know, didn't want to know.
I just wanted to end my life,
Get away from the hell I was in.
I don't want to face the fact that
She told me she didn't care,
And upon finding out what the pills were,
Informed me that I was more stupid
Than she had at first believed.
"Stupid girl," she said through laughter,
"Can't even commit suicide correctly."
The memory haunts me even though
I do my damnedest to suppress it.
I don't want to relive the memories
Of injuring myself and then being told
That I wasn't in as much pain as she,
So I had no reason to cry.
Told that tears were a weakness,
I still cannot force myself to cry.
No matter how much pain I'm in,
It takes a thorough breakdown
In order for me to sob.
It saddens me that I cannot cry
As easily as some people are able to,
Makes me ashamed that I am
So much more private than others.
I hate reliving the past,
Hate delving into the memories
That make me who I have become.
But I refuse to hide from myself any longer.
I wrench my head back to the t.v. screen
And watch my past float before my eyes,
Tears streaming silently down my face,
Unafraid to cry in my solitude.
Novelty of War
Music drifts through the halls,
Sorrow conveyed in the tone,
Wrapping around sensitive souls;
Those crying and so alone.
Caught in a story, weaving
The threads as it goes;
They listen with rapt attention
As heroes battle their foes.
Swords clash in the background,
The drums of war are sounding.
The soldiers march to their doom;
Their hearts and feet both pounding.
Cries of pain and triumph
Are lost to the sounds of fighting
A lone soldier waves surrender;
The cavalry keeps riding.
Awestruck the audience listens,
Focused on the tale,
The story of these heroes
Who were inevitably going to fail.
Tears crowd the corner of their eyes,
The story breaks the heart;
A noble man who sacrificed himself
For a war he did not start.
The reader closes his book,
The violinists stop their playing.
Deadly silence wins the room,
All their nerves are fraying.
A story of heroic antics
So full of hope and pain.
And all of that for what?
There had been no gain.
War took the lives of soldiers,
With families of their own,
Because of that one battlefield
No one should have known.
Whispers of color
Swirl through the air
Rainbow of life
Creates perfect joy
In all people.
World turns dark.
With the rain;
Light and dark;
Happy and sad;
There is no grey.
Deal with the
Seeing the rainbow.
Good or bad;
Better or worse;
Life goes on.
Haunted souls ghost through the shadow realms,
Crimson tears of regret and betrayal living proof that
Sanity has fled from human hearts and minds.
Anger fresh from Hell's deep fire consumes souls
As compassion, hope, and love are forever extinguished.
An era of darkness reigns over humankind.
Lust, hate, betrayal and self-power the new laws as
Friends become bitter rivals, competing for power,
And how to laugh is buried by the sands of time.
Those few who hold themselves aboe these beasts-
These people, if they are truly human, who hate with
An all-consuming, drive sense of unknown purpose-
Those few are doomed to the inevitable failure-
The consumation of their own souls as they drown
In guilt as thick as blood.
Guilty because they cannot, will not help
Those much less fortunate than they,
And they turn and walk away.
Denying fellowman the right to liberty,
They fail in their mission to be human-
Or perhaps, succeed all too well.
Guilt overwhelms them,
Inhumanity finds a cluth upon them;
A clutch they cannot shake.
They become haunted, the living dead,
Zombies lost in a chaotic cacophony
Of angry, screeching violins.
To these ghouls who wander soullessly,
Beauty and laughter become nothing
But a wistful memory.
I tuck my hair behind my ear,
Look up at you and smile-
All in vain.
You haven't smiled at me in years
And it hurts me badly.
You stole my innocence-
Something I had thought
I'd given to you freely.
You taught me the true meaning
Of hating, loathing myself.
When something goes wrong,
No matter how much it
Doesn't relate to me,
You look at me and shake
Your head in disappointment.
I sitll pretend I matter to you,
Make your simple kindnesses
Into events of epic proportion.
I smile and nod and pretend
That life is everything it could be.
But of course that's a lie-
Inside, my flame is dying,
My passion is wilting.
You've smothered my individuality
And I hate you for that.
But somehow you made me love you
And so I hate myself more.
You've made me perfect,
And caught up in your laugh,
I completely destroyed myself.
She watched them from the shadows,
Silent and unseen.
The world fell down upon her,
Misery her queen.
The eyes of her one sister
Tore themselves away.
Laughter echoing in her mind
Down to die she lay.
A history here so grave
Cannot be revealed
The story she left behind
Friends deserted me today,
The reason barely known.
I thought of this girl's story;
Can't compare it to my own.
A twig snaps underfoot;
The hunter freezes in his tracks.
The animal being hunted tenses,
Looks up and examines its surroundings.
Moments that seem like hours pass,
And the creature goes back to grazing.
The hunter slowly lifts his foot,
Needing to get closer to his prey.
Thinking only of beint "there"
So as not to invoke his prey's sixth sense.
Outer sole, arch, heels, toes-
The order of movement for his foot-
The hunter needs to be close,
And stalking accomplishes that goal.
Again the animal tenses-
The hunter freezes, unseen.
Slowly, as the animal grazes once more,
The hunter carefully draws his bow and arrow,
Takes aim with great respect,
And lets the arrow fly true to its mark.
The hunter thanks the animal
For providing him with food to sustain him,
And for clothing to shelter him.
The animal dies, greatly respected,
As the hunter continues to survive.
Everything starts out fine
And then I fall so deeply
Into despair I can't seem to
Remember the way out.
And of course I blame myself,
But I blame the rest of you too.
My pain rides unnoticed on my shoulders-
You can spot it if you look.
But none of you care if I'm hurting-
You just want your precious advice.
All you want is me to be strong for you
So that you don't have to be.
And I'm sure some of you are dying to know
Why I don't just come out and tell you what's wrong.
I thought that would be rather obvious.
If I look weak when you need help, you'll panic.
You'll do something you'll regret and
Then I have to deal with the backlash.
I'd rather break down pretending to be strong
Than have to deal with the emotional backlash-
After I have recovered my own sanity.
I learned how to fly solo long ago.
Lean on my shoulder as usual-
I can deal with it, if I must, just barely.
Bud don't worry about who's taking care of me-
I am my own pillar of strength, and to
Survive in this world, I have to be.
That's my reality.
Now go find your own.
Chain of Life
Light filters through the canopy
Of the multitude of trees
A young rabbit flashes by,
Intent on the need for survival.
A slender fox glides down the rocky mountainside,
The need for survival apparent in its gait,
Rocks and stumps unhindering the grey fox.
The rabbit, working hard for its survival,
Bounds as quickly as it may.
The grey beauty glides much more quickly
And soon the rabbit aids the fox's immediate survival.
Sated, the fox lies down, conserving energy;
The chain of life begins again.
Sure I'll be your antidote,
The solution to all your problems.
Just forget that I'm human,
Forget that I have emotions too.
No, your boyfriend doesn't hate you,
Yes, your father's dying.
Of course I'll always listen,
I'll always be your strength.
But I'm going to snap eventually,
Going to scream until I'm hoarse.
I've got feelings too, you know.
I need some support myself.
But of course you'll never see that,
I'll never be able to show you.
So of course I have no choice.
I take a deep breath and
Prepare to be as strong as I can.
I've cared for myself for years,
Why should today be any different?
I'm my own pillar of strength-
I have to be.
Because you won't listen to me,
Won't see what's right in front of you.
And that terrifies me more than anything.
You aren't human anymore
And I still am.
Can you see the pain inside of me
That is ripping me apart?
Do my eyes give away the misery
I'm doing my utmost best to hide?
Have my shields finally crumbled,
Unstable and trembling with the
Effort of trying to remain upright?
I don't know what you see in my eyes,
All I know is how I feel.
The world around me is breaking me,
Society keeps pushing me down.
I try to stand up and I stumble,
I try to survive while I die inside.
Living has no meaning anymore,
There's nothing for me to look forward to.
Pain, self-doubt and complete apathy
Have washed away my empathy.
My friends don't know who I am-
Let's face it, they never have.
I can't get close without being pushed away,
I can't fall in love without being afraid.
Afraid of rejection, pain, and betrayal.
But still I manage to stand strong.
Even though the strength I show is false,
I pretend that I am surviving
When in truth I'm only hanging on.
I'm slipping off the edge,
Desperately holding on, barely existing.
My eyes are made of shades of pain-
I know what misery feels like.
And still I hang here, holding on
Because I'm not afraid of being alone.