credit –

By D. R. DiFrancesco


What is it they say,

With age comes wisdom,

This I hope and pray to be true,

Yet repeatedly this comes into question,

Seeing rigidity replace compassion.


I’ve become an oddity,

As liberal replaces conservative,

Demonized by those on the right,

If inclusion and compassion are evil,

I am guilty as charged.


A question, why the word liberal,

What does this mean,

Race, creed, color, do not define,

Not treating those in need as parasites,

When cut do we all not bleed.


To be liberal is to be human,

Loving our brothers and sisters,

Sexual orientation is not a choice,

Discrimination has consequences,

Do not judge until you have walked in anothers shoes.


Should this not be called compassionate,

Where is the evil,

You would rely on man’s goodwill to offer up benevolence,

Would you part with your fortune for the sake of another,

I think not, out of sight out of mind.


You feel robbed…no, cheated,

Reliance on charity alone has foundered,

Those in need are not criminals,

They have not picked your pockets,

Though you cry foul and claim that they have.


You laugh as we cry,

The spotted owl, the lizard, the toad have no voice of their own,

Clean air, clean water, clean ocean, open land,

Jokes told at meetings on Wall Street,

How sad to be held captive to money.


Global warming…a lie you proclaim,

As premium flows into your Bentley,

Anti-capitalist scientists must be fudging the data,

Ask those afflicted by Sandy,

Say goodbye to the polar bear.


You hoard your cash and earthly possessions,

Showing nary a care for your fellow man,

Nary a care for the world you so lackadaisically plunder,

What use is your great wealth to your progeny,

When you have spoiled that which sustains them.


You call me liberal, un-American, anti-capitalist,

Your opinion means little to me,

If greed and inhumanity are what make me American,

Then I bow out of this club,

I’d rather you thank me for making this a better world in spite of you.

Tears for Damascus Road

Damascus Road – Syria credit –

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Children’s faces gnarled in fear,

Mother’s scratching and clawing through smoldering rubble,

Eyes blurred with salt of tears,

We did not ask for the master’s trouble.


As sounds of jets unseen scream overhead,

Bombs and bullets rip their way,

A bloody path paved with the dead,

That no longer live to love another day.


While nations watch the slaughter unfold,

Antiquities cities fall in ruin,

Tragic stories as yet untold,

Of a once great civilizations grievous undoing.


How sad an era of humankind,

While those with influence and power wait,

Their hesitance astonishes and confounds the mind,

As their fellow men perish at the Devils gate.


How many more must fall at the feet of tyranny,

Before we rise up and unite as one,

The reasons given there have been many,

Act we must before the next setting sun.


Damascus and Aleppo cities on fire,

Assad fails to heed their sacred call,

Culture replaced with razor barbed wire,

A world dreading the day that they fall.


Still terror rages on, tens of thousands are dead,

Calls for help, no one raises a hand,

Contracts and money for their coffers are fed,

To look away from the graves in this ancient land.


Wake up all you Caliphs or next could be you,

You cry for justice, cry foul when it serves,

Your neighbors huddled masses are brothers its true,

Misery and suffering never did they deserve.


Our President he sits with hands folded tightly,

Decrying the wrongs so harshly inflicted,

More deaths to report with each update nightly,

Calls for more U.N. sanctions restricted.


Is it not our divine duty to aid those who are weak,

With all might and resolve in our hands,

To grant refuge to those with the safety they seek,

From torture and their tombs in the sand.


Do pray my dear friends for peace in our time,

That dictators and tyrants succumb,

To consensus and strength so mightily sublime,

Before to others pain we become numb.

Cherished One

By D. R. DiFrancesco


A lavender haze abounds

The scent of lilac and persimmon permeates the air

What heavenly gifts to the senses

You, my love are such a treasure to behold

Bathed in these precious gifts from God

Your ivory skin soft to the touch

Perfumed in natures bounty stimulates my soul

Surely this must be Utopia

For to know you, you must be loved

In you is found serenity

A beauty deeper than the deepest of oceans

What further testimony need be professed

Than that of one enlightened by your being

It is not the physical alone

No, for that would be ensconced in the superficial

This may suffice were it not for your genuine modesty

Mere words can not portray the essence of you

As it is hidden behind a gentle facade

To ask for more would be an act of gluttony

An offence to the glory of nature

A sin against the wisdom of the Creator

You are perfection in my tired eyes

Beloved for all time

Of Passion – Haiku

credit –

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Carnal excitement

Blood coursing through tender veins

Lost on one night stands


Your blue eyes cut deep

Filling the hole in my soul

With abundant love


We sit quietly

Lost in a tender embrace

Shutting out the world


Unrequited love

Corrupts the delicate heart

Leaving it broken


credit –

By D. R. DiFrancesco


What beauty this world has on offer

The natural and spiritual surrounds us but we do not see

Too busy with the distractions of the material

Simplicity in the song of the bird

The majestic wonder of the mountain

The desolate elegance of the desert

The mystery of God

Lost among our earthly pursuits

With eyes closed and head arched towards heaven

My mind banishes pain, suffering and torment

Solitude seeps into my bones

A sense of peace forgotten floods my subconscious

The smell of wildflowers

The flutter of the hummingbirds wings

The lonesome howl of the coyote

The joy of spiritual oneness

Sights, sounds and smells I have long ignored

I can almost feel the arms of God drawing me close

Tears shed for time wasted dissipate in a divine awakening

Renewal washes over me

The material is no long all consuming

Reborn with a new sense of purpose

Filled with the glory of nature and the solemnity of nirvana

I have once again found solace and peace in this finite life

All through that which had always lay before me

But I could not see

Reality Blog Award


I would like to apologize for the delay in accepting this award.  I was nominated by M. Blinkhorn at 

I would like to thank her very much for it.

Questions and Answers:

1) If you could change something what would you change?

I would reduce the divide between the rich and poor making the system more fair for everyone.  This is something our political system seems unable to do on it’s own.

2) If you could repeat an age what age would it be?

If I had an age to repeat it probably would be 18.  If I were 18 again I would have made the choice that I really wanted to pursue but was talked out of by my parents.  I would have joined the U.S. Coast Guard.

3) What one thing really scares you?

I really hate heights.  I can stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon and look 5,000 feet down and not have any problem, but put me at the top of a building, I can’t bear to look down.

4) What one dream have you not completed yet and do you think you will be able to complete?

My dream is complete and have my novel published.  I know it will be difficult to do, but I have faith that I can do it.

5) If you could be someone else for a day who would it be?

I would be Abraham Lincoln.  He was a man of deep convictions who changed the course of our country for the better.  I have always been so impressed by him that I could think of no one else that I would like to be for a day if I could.

To my nominees:  You can decide how you would like to participate.  Please take into consideration that  there are no rules for this award, so you can follow this pattern, create another with your own questions, or simply just accept the award and nominate a few other blogs that you like.

My nominees are:

For the Kings Amusement

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Drawing your broadsword,

The shrill sound of blade on scabbard,

Wind whistling as you ready for the plunge,

From your gilded perch, you call a throne,

Driving the saber home.


Stripping away every last breath,

Leaving those that built your dominion,,

Clutching their throats, gasping for air,

All to adorn your coffers,

With the gold of fools.


Corpses of the loyal lie scattered about,

Left to rot in the noonday sun,

You know more will come,

Looking to you for mercy and sustenance,

Knowing they too are expendable.


Your minstrels praise you calling you benevolent Lord,

While you smile your hollow smile,

With yellowed teeth and putrid breath,

Showering them with accolades,

All the while condemning them to death.


You find this such great sport,

A vicious game,

Played solely for your amusement,

Who loses makes no matter,

So long as its you that prospers.


You look down upon your subjects,

With jeweled goblet in hand,

Whispering in contempt,

That they are not worthy of your grace,

Nor deserving of your clemency.


So you carry on like a spoiled Prince,

Conniving those around you,

“Fear not!”, you proclaim this is all in jest,

While the executioner readies his block,

For the next ax to fall.

The Giving of Thanks Lost

Black Friday crowds

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Our focus lost to door busters

Glossy color ads alluring as crack

A day of thanks reduced to dreams of Black Friday conquest

How sad it is to see culture sacrificed

Left in the ruin of materialism

Family and friends the means to an end

A holiday of joy and reflection

Reduced to nothing more than a chore

Is this what it means to give thanks

To revel in the company of loved ones

We have forgotten ourselves

What we are, why we are, who we are

Money has replaced our morality

Something to be worshiped and treasured

With something to be kept in a bank or a box

This cannot be our destiny

To lose our souls to that which is finite

What sorrow this brings

To watch what was once incorruptible

Held hostage to mere mortal desires for gratification

Pray we find the path redrawn by our moral compass

Rekindling the joy cherished by those that came before.

Just Another Day in the Promised Land

Homeless mother and child –

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Dirty faces streaked with tears,

Revealing the shell of who they were,

In silence they live their greatest fears,

Passing by, you pray they do not stir.


Their homes a box, a shantytown,

No cover from rain, sleet or snow,

Living with luck or fate torn down,

With arrogance you look away from those below.


Sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers,

They too were once like you,

Annoyed you pass, you can’t be bothered,

With these paupers, beggars and shrews.


They did not ask for their station in life,

For many, no fault of their own,

They huddle with daughter, son and wife,

On these sidewalks and alleys alone.


Lift yourself up and make your own way,

With what, is a question to be asked,

Struggling to eat day to day,

There’s no time for their plight to be masked.


A little compassion would go a long way,

Helping pick up our fellow man,

With food and warmth and a safe place to stay,

Simple basics since time began.


So many are one paycheck away,

From the life these nightmares are made of,

In darkness they hope to keep poverty at bay,

Saying prayers to their God in Heaven above.


From that vagrant you see do not dart your eyes,

Instead offer an honest helping hand,

Remember the innocent child who cries,

Dirty, hungry and homeless in this promised land.

A Hero’s Welcome

Homecoming celebration November 12, 2012 Ft. Carson, Colorado Springs, Colorado

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Welcome home,

To you and the 300 like you.


So long gone,

So many tears and worries it drew.


Now you are back,

Safe and warm in your nations arms.


Tears of joy,

Thankful you are away from terrors harm.


You left a boy,

But came back as a man.


Proud and strong,

A country grateful that you took a stand.


You’ve given freely,

Putting your life in harm’s way.


A willing volunteer,

On guard and ready to save the day.


You are a soldier,

Out of sight, but not out of mind.


We welcome you home,

With open arms, warm and wide and kind.


You are our son,

A mother and father’s pride and joy.


Grown into a hero,

No more a little boy.

In honor of our son’s return from a 9 month deployment in Afghanistan on November 12, 2012.  Welcome home son, we are so proud of you.  

Please remember those brave men and women proudly serving our nation and give thanks that they have volunteered to protect us.