Monthly Archives: March 2014

I Feel Different These Past Few Days

I feel different these past few days, wrapped in joy

Tolerance I found where before there was none.

At first I thought, perhaps this was a ploy,

That is until the other changes had begun.

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Anxiety and jealousy seem much more subdued,

A struggle I’ve struggled with all of my years.

These issues I’d gnash on as if they were food,

Were simply alternatives to facing my fears.

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Patiences I lost as I grew out of my youth,

Seem to be returning and rearing their heads.

All because I found what I believe is the truth,

Trepidations settle as my old skin is shed.

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I think what I’ve found is the beginning of peace,

Not the kind that we show towards our fellow men.

No–the kind that’s achieved as our inner turmoils fleeced,

May I never return to that troubled place again.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

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PROMPT: Mood

By We Drink Because We’re Poets – Poetry Prompt #1

Looking Through Boxes

Looking through boxes,

Rummaging through bags,

Scouring cupboards,

Searching for my treasure of youth.

No, it holds no great monetary worth,

Really its nothing but a novelty.

Red and White soup can labels exchanged for it,

Cherub-faced little boy stamped at the bottom.

That was me back then,

Before time changed things.

Like me, its glaze has weathered,

Whiteness has turned yellow with age.

Its smooth skin is showing cracks,

The pristine edge flawed and jagged

Still it serves its purpose as designed.

My Campbell’s Soup bowl–chipped,

Would be trash to many,

But to me it is a priceless treasure.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

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 PROMPT: A chipped bowl

Tuesdays Conundrum 11 March by Jez Farmer at The Boi Poet blog

 

Joy in the Melody of the Sparrow’s Song (Sonnet)

Joy in the melody of the sparrow’s song,

I sit in wonderment at the skies varied palette.

As though an observer, I feel I don’t belong,

Second fiddle in this heavenly ballad.

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Yet my premise is false, I am part the story,

Woven into the fabric of our universe.

Sharing in its pain and relishing in its glory,

Though my time is for certain most terse.

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Revealing in it’s beauty, I’m astonished by the day,

How perfection could have happen by chance.

A Universal Spirit must surely have had it’s way,

In this earthly and spiritual fire dance.

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With each passing day, O’ how little I know,

Though I wouldn’t miss the chance to see the show.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Anxieties Hold (Tanka)

Anxieties hold

Plunging headlong in darkness

Of my own doing

Tending to over-think things

Can only bring me trouble

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Voracity for Change

In the darkened halls etched with golden finery,

Do you admit the secrets they hold,

Shrouded in the shrouds of your jeweled cassocks?

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For how many centuries has this debauchery been veiled?

How many unchaste Satans lay in your webbed catacombs,

Venerated by the ignorant and blind?

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This is not an indictment of the faithful, the many tended sheep in your flock,

They are the innocent men and women…and child victims,

Venerated as martyrs before the universal mother.

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Have you forgotten your roots, roots steeped in love and in service?

Not service to yourselves for its benefit, but service to the thirsty progeny

Who you’ve nourished with scandal and dust.

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Knowingly, the devils amongst you receive shelter…You are evil as they!

You can not hide your sins from God Almighty, you immoral men!

Utter hypocrisy flows through your narrowed veins as sacramental wine.

 

Your restitution rings hollow…what of the innocence you’ve so ravaged?

Your treasures buy not your redemption– for the trustful can ne’er be whole again.

You vipers!…The solemnity of your vows lay thrashed by the Reaper.

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Heads bowed on bended knee– tears for transformation fall with no retort.

They ask not for scriptural emendation, only boundness before the Lord.

In consumptive fashion, pomp preempts substance from this Cardinal clan.

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What mold anewed will you lay before the disconsolate altar of the faithful?

Would it not be fair to portend that there will be nothing of substance to behold?

Only time will avow your voracity for change.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

O’ Brilliant Bud (Sonnet)

O’ brilliant bud, how thy beauty fills me,

Looking upon thy delicate petals bloom.

Heaven sent–I see birth within thee,

Erupting with grace from nature’s womb.

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How perfect art thee O’ simple flower,

Delicately sculpted by the hand of God.

Splendid creation through wondrous power,

Where mortal man darest not trod.

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Thy life doth mimic that of our own,

So brief, blooming into the loveliest rose.

Until thy beauty fades as time hath shown,

Returning to dust, on north wind blows.

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Regrets they’ve none for none required,

When thy final day comes and ye lay down tired.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Solemn And Desperate We Walk This Earth

Solemn and desperate we walk this earth

Spending life in a quest for the Almighty.

The One we think we know through books

Through hymns,

Through symbols,

Through statues,

Through all manner of mankind’s understanding.

Living this life for the hope of something better;

Squandering precious time at the crossroads,

Looking north, south, east and west directionless

Leads to an unfulfilled life–

One of sadness and regret as this door closes.

Assuredly this is not what is thirsted for,

Nor what the Creator desires for his children

Yet we pretend to be omniscient;

Claiming to know what God wants of us,

Acting as judge and jury over our fellow man.

Even the Bishop of Rome has seen the light saying,

“Who am I to judge” realizing his humanness.

What if we were to love our fellow man,

Love ourselves enough to live life to the fullest,

Wouldn’t we be living as we were designed to,

Letting bygones be bygones?

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

In The Daylight I Sit (Sonnet)

In the daylight I sit–tis dark as night

Not void of sun as one might think.

Emotions cloud every thought and sight,

Depressions hole I claw and sink.

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Sadness without good cause inflicts;

Caped in black to draw out life.

Pain…such pain this joyless fix

Cuts like a razor–damn bloody knife.

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Out of the blue this Satan creeps,

Slinking slowly to fill my head.

Of little comfort is nightly sleep

At times a prayer be better dead.

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All is not lost for this too shall pass

Though certain that this time will not be the last.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

‘Tis Night–Wrapped In Cloud (Tanka)

‘Tis night–wrapped in cloud

Torrential rains, gale doth blow

Washing clean this earth

All done by the hand of God

To welcome in loving spring

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~