Let not the heart turn to stone
Or chill through selfish desire
Virulent is what it lost
When smothering the fire
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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Category Archives: Poetry
Spotty Weeds Dot Fields (Tanka)
Spotty weeds dot fields
Once thriving have turned to dust
Their crops memories
Images of tractors fade
Leaving us worse off
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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Retweet or reblog if you have a moment please:) (Happy Birthday Fantasy Author)
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There–At The Wheel
There–at the wheel of the car that sat behind me,
It isn’t so much what I could here, but more of what I could see.
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Hands were thrashing back and forth waving to and fro,
Your anger I could feel, I didn’t have to know.
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Showing teeth, your lips were curled like a rabid dog,
You seemed to be unaware as if enveloped in fog.
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No, I cannot read ones lips though I surely sensed your rage,
Your act was more attuned to an actor taking stage.
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I can only imagine what you said, “I can’t believe you cheated”,
Words been said a million times and millions more repeated.
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Awkward silence is my guess on the other end of the line,
She probably ignored “Working late” and other telltale signs.
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Placing blame is not my point as love is based on trust,
One her partner clearly breached is my only thrust.
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Though I could not hear her call I felt her silent pain,
My story of the jilted spouse driving the right-hand lane.
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~~ Dominic R. DIFrancesco ~~
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We Drink Because We’re Poets — Poetry Prompt #5 – The Ear
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: I took some liberties with this prompt as I don’t often pay attention to others conversations, probably because my hearing is not all that great. Instead I used an incident that I saw as I was driving back to my office from a job about 3 weeks ago. There was a woman in the car behind me (driving), angrily waving her arms and clearly screaming into her cell phone. I used my imagination to come up with the story behind her her obvious rage.
Warm Are The Subtle Winds That Steer Me On (Sonnet)
Warm are the subtle winds that steer me on,
Nary a cloud sails across the sky sea of crystal blue.
The scent of Palo Verde and Mesquite wave winter gone,
Hummingbirds flutter in search of their sugary brew.
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Noonday sun turns pale and naked skin to tan,
While grass awakens, springing back to a deep cool green.
Scorching heat does rise from barren desert sand,
As lightning quick geckos scurry hoping not to be seen.
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Return it does to life this arid sometimes hellish land,
Though the living most often desire not to be found.
Spending their time on the cooler nighttime sands,
Sheltered from the blazing sun in their holes underground.
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A mysterious lifeless land though the desert seems to be,
Much in common does it have with the depths of the worlds deepest seas.
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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
She Is A Fortress (Tanka)
She is a fortress
Selfishness is her master
Excluding others
With her interests paramount
Ego is her accursed name
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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Brilliant Stars (Shadorma)
Brilliant stars
A sliver of moon
Magical
Perfection
I can see heaven from earth
What could be better
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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
In Silence–Screaming (Tanka)
In silence–screaming
Something only I can hear
Urging me onward
Headlong into the unknown
A metaphysical quest
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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Memories Dot Our Roadsides
Memories dot our roadsides,
Highway or rural it matters not.
Monuments hammered with tears serve as reminders,
Whitewashed, makeshift,
Adorned in faded flowers,
Bleached to muted hues by the noonday sun.
At times dressed with images,
Perhaps names or signs–loves of their lives;
Each one a silent storyteller.
Embarrassed, I often pass without offering a sympathetic glance,
Too consumed with my own circumstance to take notice.
This is not out of cruelty,
Nor is it for a lack of compassion,
But instead due to the chaos of everyday life.
Still–upon further reflection, I wonder…
Whose daughter, son, mother, father were they?
What story do they have to tell,
What were their hopes and dreams,
Are those left behind coping?
Questions are these for which I have no answer.
A solitary cross marks a souls final earthly moment,
Pleading to be noticed and remembered.
I hope to take the time, if only a moment
To wish their spirits well
And to pray for closure for those left behind.
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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Dear Son (Haiku)
Dear son–a man now
I must learn to let you go
~~ You have seen so much
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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Dom DiFrancesco 