Fickle wind doth blow
Leaving carnage in its path
Twisted metal–wood
Like a house of playing cards
Left as chaotic rubble
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Fickle wind doth blow
Leaving carnage in its path
Twisted metal–wood
Like a house of playing cards
Left as chaotic rubble
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
I’d forgotten the serenity of the vicious sea;
Her frothy mane as it spreads itself upon the shore
Gracefully stroking me, drawing me into her loving embrace.
To touch her, to feel her supple skin beneath my hands;
Soft yet strong as it glides effortlessly away from the shore,
I am captivated by her beauty.
The shimmer of her eyes blinds both sun and moon,
They are no match for her diamond soul,
Nor am I as she swallows the sun as it sets.
In dark of night I can hear her calling across her sandy expanse
The path of the moon dancing from wave to wave
Revealing how miniscule I am under heaven
Just as the grain of sand swept from shore.
I smile as if one with the earth and sea
Flowing effortlessly from here to there.
O’ how I had forgotten how beautiful the sea,
How beautiful the soul,
How beautiful and how temporary this life;
Until she reminded me of what I am.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Mandarin sun sets
Sinking perilously slow
As it always does
The coming day begs it rise
Bringing light and life to earth
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Faces look around
Each with varied histories
Searching for answers
This is what makes us human
Regardless of appearance
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Here is a piece of writing worth reading. I love how down to earth it is…very impressive. Great job Trey.
What will I do when God answers me?
Will I believe it is actually him?
I don’t see how I couldn’t…
I’m sure I’ll know, don’t y’all think…
Him being God and all…
I would like to hear his voice, I think; although the prophets say I couldn’t handle it; yet, they all heard him, didn’t they?
I know he’s a really great listener but I don’t get much feedback from him other than that still small voice I can’t seem to hear over the noise of my complex little world.
What if he cuts into one of my prayers and asks “What now, Trey?”
All pissed off, like…
What if he says that he’s heard all this from me before; over and over and over again; blah blah blah
What if he says “I love you, but you disappoint me and you make me crazy!”
Or “I am done…
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Republican, democrat,
Black, white,
Feminist, chauvinist,
Gay, straight,
Religious, atheist,
Liberal, conservative,
Pacifist, warmonger,
Proletariat, capitalist,
Pro-life, pro-choice,
Rich, poor,
Extremist, moderate,
Old, young,
Patriotic, unpatriotic,
Native, immigrant,
We spend so much time segregating ourselves into categories,
That we forget we are all the same.
We are born, we live and then we die,
This is non-negotiable.
Maybe if took the time to walk in our brother’s shoes
We would be less hurried to take vengeance
And this world would be a more peaceful and beautiful place.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Templar Knight (Shadorma)
Templar knight
Prepares to face death
Enemies
Heed God’s call
Convert before it’s too late
Or prepare to die
Knight (Acrostic)
Know and feared by all
None dare stand in their way
Invoking their wrath
God has so ordained
Heathens and heretics bow before them
To meet their maker
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Bastet’s Shadorma (and Acrostic) Prompt – September 20, 2014
From dusk until dawn
I live in dreamless torment
Cold–black is my night
Where do I go in slumber
When I am invisible
I can’t remember
My travels have been wiped clean
This terrifies me
Is this what death will be like
A blackboard erased from time
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Breathing heavily
Heartbeat rapid–heart attack
The symptoms of love
~~Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Though fall has returned home
The hot summer sun still beats upon my furled brow.
The desert does not take kindly to the change of seasons;
Preferring to redden and blister the flesh ‘til left no recourse,
This has always been her way.
Her bleak landscape sparsely dotted with cacti and scrub brush,
Inhabited by venomous creatures big and small.
Her song is that of the coyote howling for her lost love,
His bones bleached white by the fire, laid waste amongst the sands.
Still even Hell must succumb to God’s will
Though not without fighting ‘til its dying breath,
Taking holiday until it is invited back in three seasons time.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~