Category Archives: Poetry

If Dreams Were Reality

In dreams,

I am the hero,

I am the villian,

I am a great lover to millions.

In dreams,

I am a martyr,

I am a savior,

I am the fool with bad behavior.

In dreams,

I am a jester,

I am a riot,

I am a airplane test pilot,

In dreams,

You are my love,

You are the one I adore,

You are the one I would gladly die for.

In dreams,

Our life is perfect,

We live in bliss,

We want for nothing, so there is nothing we miss.

In dreams,

I can be all of these things,

The lover, the hero, the fool, the zero,

And still…

In dreams,

I never disappoint you.

A Block a Day Keeps the Prose Away

Creativity eludes me,

Gathered up in the day-to-day minutiae,

I am spent.

Staring stone faced at the screen,

Cursor blinking in frustration,

Awaiting the stroke of genius that never comes.

Millions of ideas,

Swirling in my head like a cyclone,

Yet none coherent enough to put on the page.

I know this happens from time to time,

Call it writer’s block or lack of focus,

Call it what you will this makes it no less painful.

Lying in bed,

Staring at the ceiling,

Fragments of prose flash through my mind.

Exhausted, I close my eyes,

Shutting them out ’til morning,

Hoping to remember a sliver of drowsy brilliance.

Excitedly I do…

But sadly the brilliance seems tarnished,

Hazy and gray,

Unsuitable…or unworthy for print.

Looks like another day of drivel,

Meaningless, irrelevant scribbles,

Fortunately there is always tomorrow.

To Almost Touch Heaven

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Staring into an ocean blue sky,

Gliding,

Cradled in the silvery wings of a bird,

So close God,

So close to heaven I can almost touch it.

This must be what it is like to die,

What it is like to ascend into the afterlife,

Weightlessly soaring,

Song of birds a symphony,

Leading my soul skyward,

Sun warm and inviting on my face,

Clouds of virginal white clothe me,

Comforting my weary essence.

At peace,

This must be what it is like,

What it is like to almost touch heaven,

On the wings of the silvery bird.

 

The Walk

Meandering as if in a dream I pondered..,

Cracks in sidewalks,

Separated like so many loves,

Askew from the tempestuousness of life,

Weeds poisoning their once sturdy frames,

Concrete strewn about like Mayan ruins,

Overgrown and forgotten, buried over time,

Crabgrass claiming their souls,

Once virginal, pristine, blinding in their starkness,

Now greyed and weathered, crumbling with age,

Discarded as trash,

The pieces left for someone else to pick up.

Awakened, with tears in my eyes I realized…,

We are not so unlike the lowly sidewalk.

We have left our elders trampled, aging and broken,

Put in the care of strangers,

Forgotten and buried in time.

Be it the mason or our maker,

This is not what they envisioned,

Abandonment and neglect of their masterpiece.

Weary Traveler

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Awaking bleary eyed I wipe the sleep from my bloodshot eyes,

Sensing my solitude, I reached for you but you are not there,

The faintest sliver of light passes between the hastily drawn curtains,

Revealing my bed, damp and crumpled and void of you.

 

Out of utter concern I rose, suddenly unfamiliar with my surroundings,

The feel of carpet under foot was in no way comforting,

Stubbing a toe on the nightstand I cried out in pain and for you!

But there was no reply to my labored pleading.

 

I’m suddenly alert from the throbbing and solemnity,

The weakest of smiles takes root on my unshaven face,

As unfamiliarity gives way to focus I slump incredulously at the beds edge,

Muttering under my breath, I must travel less and get more sleep.

The Gift of Simplicity

By D. R. DiFrancesco

The suns glare blinding in it sheer radiance,

Ricocheting off the snow white froth as it lays claim to another piece of shore,

Drawn back to it’s primordial beginnings,

Only to reemerge in it’s own time in some distant land.

 

The song of the gulls,

Circling and floating in anticipation of their next meal,

A beautiful natural thing to behold,

Lives boiled down to simplicity.

 

The snap of the blue claw crab,

Rouses me from my trance,

Unafraid, claws raised in defense of his little piece of turf,

Only to surrender it to return to the sea.

 

Could it be that there are lessons to be learned,

Wisdom in nature so often ignored,

Giving prominence to our petty and corrupt selves,

Hollowed out by our material love.

 

As high tide comes rushing in,

New shore from distant lands makes this beach it’s home,

I am beckoned to take leave,

Walking away with a gift greater than I dared ask for.

To Her With Love

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Do not look me in the eyes my love,

For my intentions are seldom pure as a dove.

In constant labor to prove my worth are I,

Lest I fall from your grace wither and die.

With a gentle stoke of my cheek you reassure me,

That I am all you ever hoped that I could be.

Still I fret that my offering is not enough,

Insecurity has aged me wrinkled rough.

Yet you look upon me as if youthful and spry,

With a devil-may-care twinkle in your eyes.

And that come hither smile you so oft display,

Leaves me breathless as always in night or day.

Unworthy am I to be held in esteem,

Yet with each day I awake to find this isn’t a dream.

Should this not be what love is about,

I ponder and pray that it’s never in doubt.

Maybe, my love, in all the world you’re unique,

To have fallen for this fool with all others you could seek.

If this somehow by irony be true,

No one else could I have cherished any more than you.

Lessons of Life

Looking forward,

Staring into the mirror of my life,

Returns a reflection of my past.

Like history,

My yesterdays keep repeating themselves,

Leaving me struggling to break free.

Hopes and dreams left partially fulfilled,

And regrets, of which there are many,

A constant battle to overcome.

Thankfully with age, I’m less likely to lament,

Especially over those things which I can not change,

Instead choosing to carve out a niche’ for the joyful things in life.

Should mistakes of the past be renewed,

Looking with eyes steeped in greater wisdom,

I endeavor to make this their last.

Still the realist that I am gets in the way,

Making the struggle monumental,

And the results muddled.

Yes…I am a flawed creature,

Free will engendered as both blessing and curse,

Yet I do not desire to change it.

We are given but one existence,

Is it destiny…luck…or divine intervention that lights our path,

For this, I have no answer, choosing instead to sit back and enjoy this wild ride.

Honor and Sacrifice

Army Command Sargent Major Kevin J. Griffin
Poem in memory of those killed Wednesday 8, August 2012
by a suicide bomber in Afghanistan
Army CSM Kevin J, Griffin
Air Force Major Walter D. Gray
Army Major Thomas E. Kennedy

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Another tour,

Another chance that I won’t go home,

A picture of my baby girl,

Another reminder of what I’ve left,

Another casualty of my sacrifice,

A lock of my loving wife’s hair,

Another night of restless sleep,

Another dream of holding her close,

Rockets screaming at 2 AM,

Another miss,

Another prayer thanking God,

I’m scared but I can’t allow it to show,

Another night of frayed nerves,

Another soldier can’t see my fear,

Too rattled to go back to sleep,

Another march dead tired,

Another struggle to push through the pain,

Today, the next of many, training our indigenous friends,

Another day of watching my back,

Another day working with people you can’t trust,

We didn’t see it coming,

Another blast,

Another vest laden suicide bomber,

I’m sorry,

There won’t be another day,

There won’t be another homecoming,

I won’t see my baby girl,

I won’t see my loving wife,

Just know that I love you,

And please…don’t ever forget me.

For the Love of Imperfection

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Dark of night casts no shadow upon you,

Your radiance like a shield rejects the approaching twilight,

Do you recognize your own brilliance?

A resounding no projects itself to the world.

From the first time I beheld you,

Captivated by an acumen cast by the maker himself,

Sharp and heated as a solar flare,

Scorched impressions left on everyone in it’s path.

Yet surviving within your universal turbulence is tenderness,

Soft and warm drawing in those most dear,

Contrary to your impetuous past,

You shine your bronze rays on all that surrounds you.

You are stellar and strong,

Divine in your organic beauty,

Any change would make you less than who you were meant to be,

Perfect in your humanly flawed design.