Author Archives: Dom DiFrancesco

The Grand Discovery

My reflection in the mirror,

A vision of the anti-me,

Not of flesh and blood,

Who am I?

What defines me?

A grandson,

A son,

A husband,

A parent,

I am all of these,

And yet I am none of these,

Reaching inside myself,

My essence floods over me,

I am so much more.

A poet,

A musician,

A story teller,

A friend,

Passionate and compassionate,

Creative and thoughtful,

Not merely what I outwardly project.

Yet who am I,

That remains a question for which I have no answer,

Ever evolving, I am constantly reborn,

Constantly discovering and rediscovering,

That which makes me…me.

The Vow – A Poem

By D. R. DiFrancesco

I could never find fault in you,
My soul lashed to yours won’t permit it,
Kindness envelopes your heart,
The warm inviting happiness in your smile
Blinds me to what others may see.

In my tribulation you have always been there,
Sickness and health has been no barrier,
My sadness washed away by your tears,
Nothing more could I ask of you,
All I could hope to repay, to return like kindness.

At my worst you stood by me,
Taking my hand to your lips,
A gentle kiss to reassure me,
Comforting me in your glow,
Inspiring my belief that everything would be okay.

When my strength weakend,
Bedridden and afflicted, you reinforced me,
Loving me without condition,
Honoring our vows,
Until I was strong again in my own flesh.

My friend through every storm,
I couldn’t ask for a better mate,
We are in union,
Syncronized to this lifes time,
My passion, my devotion, my love.

 

Moral Decay

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Fantasy glimmers amongst shades of crimson,
Distorting reality for it’s own vice,
Leaving idle minds to drown in corruption,
Leading tormented souls to succumb.

Society passes off lust as love,
Mingling sensitivities with animal instinct,
Numbing what sensibilities we portend to have,
Replacing them with primative urges.

Celluloid visions feed arousal and carnality,
Drifting recklessly across our screens,
Youth despoiled by images of debauchery,
Rendering them hollow and defiled.

Who’s to blame for the moral decay?
Pointing the venomous finger of irresponsibility,
Looking to the state for civil retort,
Misplacing censure to cloak parental shortcomings.

We are to blame,
Ignoring that which tears at our moral fiber,
Restraint not prudishness the intention,
Reaping what we sow our just deserve.

The Looking Glass

A window,

Like any other window,

Panes separate reality from fiction,

Anonymity, my closest friend.

 

The sidewalk,

Crowded with actors in this play,

Passers by looking up,

I’m part of the backdrop,

Important to the scenery,

Insignificant to the story,

But at least I’m still on stage.

 

I watch and listen,

Taking in the hustle and bustle outside,

So cliche’ yet so relevant,

The horns, the taxis,

Rushing to get to God knows where,

All to make another dollar.

 

People scramble,

Suits and ties, bohemians and homeless,

Sharing the same life on the streets,

Avoiding eye contact,

Avoiding making it personal

Too afraid of feeling empathy for those around them.

 

The children,

Double-dutch and hopscotch,

Brings back memories of simpler times,

Things weren’t so complicated back then,

Fire hydrants to beat the summer heat,

Careless and carefree were the names of the game.

 

My hands to glass,

Breath fogging my lens to the world,

Wishing I could be part of the show,

Instead of just a prop,

Destined to remain alone,

A fish in this fishbowl I call home.

 

A window,

Like any other window,

Panes separate reality from fiction,

Anonymity, my closest friend.

Natural Beauty

Natural Bridge – Located in Natural Bridge, VA
Taken July 8, 2012

A gown of crystal flows at your feet

Unpretentious yet purposeful in its design

Your hard exterior shaped by the elements

Wind and water the artists brush

Veins of brown and green soften your skin

Giving life to those harbored within your walls

For centuries you have been looked upon in awe

A natural wonder bathed in warm colors

Ever evolving in size and beauty

Leaving your mark on lives touched

Splendid, majestic, enchanting

Character only the creator could have imagined

In Memorial

She is gone now,

Weeks have passed,

Shock is no more.

Resigned to the fact that we won’t see her again,

We won’t share coffee around the kitchen table,

Won’t share meals at the holidays,

Won’t see the warm smile,

Won’t see the pride in her eyes at our little accomplishments.

Grandmothers are someone taken for granted,

They were always there,

From our beginning,

Naively we think that they will never leave.

Still something deep in our hearts knows  its a lie,

We lie to ourselves because its easier than facing the truth.

The status quo easier to take than the pain,

But nothing can stay the same.

Parents become Grandparents,

Children, parents,

The eternal cycle repeats like a palindrome.

I don’t pretend to know what lay beyond this fragile life,

We pray to, hope for, obsess about an unseen God,

Holding steadfast to our faith,

Grasping with clenched fists to the fabric of what’s left of our existence,

Knowing that in time, we to, will meet our maker,

Whomever we conceive our maker to be.

In this, our soul finds consolation,

Finding peace in our belief in the unknowable,

Finding relief in the belief that this world is just the beginning,

That eternal life is not a myth,

But instead a promise of something greater,

Something greater than anything created in our mortal imaginations.

In this hope,

We find comfort.

In this hope,

We find peace.

As we pay our final respects,

In this hope,

You will not be forgotten.

Instead,

In this hope of heaven,

We say goodbye.

Independence Day, A Day to Remember – (A Poem)

The smell of powder,

Clouds of smoke sting the eyes,

Tearing, trying to see beyond the fence line,

Nauseating odor of sulfur offends the senses.

Screams!

Blood curdling screams!

Pierce the sound of canon fire,

Tattered flags wave wearily above the shouts,

The cocking of flint locks magnified by thousands,

Fire!

Deafening explosions,

The buzz of lead fills the air,

Surreal as comrades fall,

The sting of the cold,

Numbs as we move forward.

Snow covered fields no longer virgin,

Crimson corrupts the purity,

Flowing like rivers from the lifeless,

Moans echo through the trees.

Corpses, limbs, appendages litter the plain,

The stench of death!

Repulsive!

Time to reload,

Focus or die,

No time for regrets,

This is a cause far greater than ourselves,

Fire! the General’s call

Sabre raised overhead as the stallion rears

He is gone!

His station irrelevant,

War plays no favorites,

Blood flowing warm and freezing,

Staining the newly fallen snow.

We must carry on,

No time to mourn,

Remember why we are here.

Remember how we got to this place.

History, our history,

Freedom,

Independence,

For the birth of a nation!

America!

Born on the Forth of July!

Overcome

With each step forward

We open doors into the unknown

New challenges rush to face us

Throwing up a gauntlet to halt our progress

Forcing us to confront  our fears

Our doubts push us to grow

To thrive

To succeed at all which we strive to do

No matter the constraints we place on ourselves.

The Star

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Touching heaven with finger-like peaks

Bathed in purple and black

Crags and fissures a sign of her violent past

Yet in these chiseled features there is peace

Calm in her desolation

Joy in her solitude

Rains come, seldom, brief and miniscule

Life  giving none-the-less

Colors erupt skyward from cracks and crevasses

Green, yellow, orange, and purple

Clothing fit for a queen

Floral draped plains bow at her feet

Only the finest for such a star

Sierra Estrella her name

But the cape once so lovely abandons her

Leaving her naked, hard, and rough

No less beautiful in the raw

Standing tall, she resumes her watch

Desert, now void of  an audience unfurls

Bowing blindly to her majesty

Hawks and buzzards her only court

Left to marvel at her magnificence

Her strength, her beauty, her wonder.

The Sierra Estrella Mountain range (estrella in spanish is “star”)  is located southwest of Phoenix Arizona.  My home looks over these mountains and in the years that I have lived here, I have never gotten tired of looking at them.

Unfaithful (A Poem)

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Sultry unrelenting heat
Flames ignite the fuse
My soul tormented in gradients
Shades of orange and brilliant blue
Misguided carnality quells true feeling
Sequestering that which I long to say.

Passion momentarily quenches my insatiable thirst
Parched, cracked my body begging for comfort
A mirage that taunts my senses
Like sand, torrid and dry unfulfilling
Dispelling my will
Shattering my resolve like so many shards of glass.

Agony of desire tears me asunder
Pulling against the fabric of my being
Crimson lust disguised as adoration
Plays me for the fool
Flirting with my emotions
Forging me into that which I most despise.

Frailty maims, mortally wounding the heart most loved
A prayer to rekindle that which has been ravaged
Regret and disgust are all that remain
Illusions dim with the clarity of day
Too late to reverse indiscretions consequence
Tender advances decay under deceptions burden.