Category Archives: Poetry

The Fox and Rabbit (A Parable)

By D. R. DiFrancesco

To keep the fox at bay

You scurry down the rabbit hole

Hiding behind your harvest of vegetables and fruits

A feeble attempt to prolong your existence

The fox is patient this much is true

Cunning and hunger are his advantage

Scared and indecisive you ponder what to do

“I’ve got it!” – you say

Thinking you can outsmart the fox

The fox waits, patient and quiet

You feign courage

Hopping from behind the store

Nose twitching and wriggling

You try to catch his scent

But the fox is clever and hides

You crawl out of your rabbit hole

Thinking, “If I’m fast he won’t catch me.”

As you hop out, the fox pounces

Your world goes dark.

The fox smiles, satisfied

He has done what nature intended

Hiding in your rabbit hole

With your horde of foodstuffs for protection

And still…

Greed and boastfulness could not save you.

Plight of the Homeless

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Shadow people abound,

Faceless and nameless they inhabit our streets,

Forgotten amongst the urban sound,

Left to stifle in summer’s heat.

 

Shadow people trapped,

Passed by like trash littering the walkway,

Feeble hands outstretched for scraps,

Passersby strain to look away.

 

Shadow people lost,

Beaten down by an iron fist,

Society tries to subdue them at any cost,

Acting as though they don’t exist.

 

Shadow people remain,

Vagrants, homeless, bums, call them what you will,

Put a hand out to ease their strain,

Comfort and humanity and faith instill.

 

Shadow people no more,

Take them in, in body and soul,

End the battle of class; end the poverty of war,

Lift them up, our brothers and sisters, their urgency behold.

Son

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Son,

I still remember the day you were born,

Our first,

Blonde hair,

Blue eyes,

Colic, your tears and cries brought tears to my eyes.

Then you grew,

Grew out of the innocent helpless stage of infancy,

Standing on your own two feet,

Speaking in incoherent tones,

Trying to form words,

You knew what you were saying,

Frustrated that others didn’t.

With age came clarity,

Your words became sentences,

You thought for yourself,

Such the little man you were.

School was so difficult for you,

Younger than the rest of the class,

The agony of seeing you struggle,

Given one more year to catch up with your friends.

Sensitive,

So much abuse,

So much pain,

Kids can be so cruel,

Yet you overcame adversity and became more resilient for it.

The teen years, your talents flourished,

Maturity and confidence raised their heads,

Still a sense of humor persisted,

Highlighting that which makes you who you are,

Sensitive, caring, intelligent and funny.

Now you are a man,

A better man than your father,

Strong, confident, brave…fearless in the face of distress,

Sacrificing unselfishly for the benefit of others.

We swell with pride at the thought of what you have become,

Independent,

Letting us know that we taught you well,

Doing more in your short life than we ever dreamed was possible,

Son.

With Privilege Comes Corruption

Think about this often

How petty we have become

Money, power, the big house; is this really important?

Money distorts,

Power corrupts,

The big house…a symbol of unnecessary opulence.

Those of unlike kind are frowned upon,

Lazy,

Bloodsuckers,

A drain on the system,

Is this what we have become?

Those with means holding us hostage,

Our station in life seals our fate,

Threatening to exterminate ones less fortunate,

All in the name of progressing their adgenda.

Civility and compassion tossed aside like so many feathers to the wind,

Cast out as unimportant,

So unnecessary in this capitalist system,

The needs of the few eclipse those of the many.

Talking heads and bureaucrats tow the line,

Telling us that this is our foundation,

Lies and deceit disguise their motives,

Their pockets lined with fools gold.

Still they profit at societies expense,

And we buy in to the hollow rhetoric,

Smiling and clapping as they spew their bile,

Blind to the parade marching to it’s own demise.

Our representation sold for profit,

With wealth comes power and the rise of aristocracy,

This was not the proclivity of our fathers,

Yet we watch it happen with hardly a noise.

Is this what is desired or desirable?

It can’t be…it mustn’t be our expectation,

Like mice we scurry away from that which is distasteful,

Rise up, speak up, demand your just due,

Tenacity in numbers can rejuvenate our future,

Forcing the tyrants to bow to our intentions.

Disturbed?

White noise

Distorting my senses

Images like flashbacks fill my mind

Thoughts, past, present and future

Blur the lines between fantasy and reality

Sanity or insanity

Who is to say which is which

Its difficult to tell anymore

Dreams materialize in painful rushes of sound and color

Awake…No rest, can’t sleep

Unfolding into vivid nightmares

They seem so real

Glimpses of my innermost fears

Each breath becomes more labored

Struggling to claw back to consciousness

I can feel the blood pulsing through my veins

Rapid, it battles to sustain me

The pounding in my head clouds my vision

Strong burnt coffee the medicine

Nerves steady…Fog recedes

Jarred back to life  by the caffine

Another day of subsistence

Endeavoring to crawl out of the darkness

Alone and lonely.

Piety and Hypocrisy

Father, Savior, Lord, Jehovah

Faith in the unknown

The eternal struggle never ceasing, never compromising

What to believe, that is the question.

Eons pass, bloodshed abounds

Differences mediated through conflict

Crusade or Jihad, neither is virtuous.

Blinded by rightousness, no one can see

Their lives spent and lost in pursuit of utopia

Yet contentment in this moment is never realized.

Is this the end to which the righteous aspire?

They gather in the name of peace

Projecting their false tolerance

A show…insincere in all its pageantry.

Beneath the surface bubbles hatred and hostility

Vowing to disencumber this world of the other

While smiling and greeting with a warm embrace.

Is this what the supreme being wants from us?

Are differing opinions to be snuffed out?

Our traditions say yes with a deafening roar.

Are not love and charity mightier than the sword?

More palettable then pain and suffering

To say yea would be only logical.

Still man endeavors to distort the infalable word

All for his own selfish devices

Leading the unquestioning flock to slaughter

Mindless and oblivious they follow their master.

To petition for truth, is construed as heresy

Faith the only path to eternal salvation

Yet acrimony toward our neighbors persists.

Does prejudice or averice have any authority to prevail?

An emphatic no should be the only a reply

If common decency were the essence of all relations

Peace and harmony would be all that exist.

Loves Transformation

By D. DiFrancesco

 

Fires burn,

They start out white hot

Then cool to a shimmering blue.

It’s not that the flame has diminished

The passion still glows, but its appearance changes with time.

We find comfort in one another, by being in each other’s presence.

A look,

Says more than words ever could.

Nothing can be said that you haven’t already heard.

Love, anger, sadness, all my feelings expressed in a glance

Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.

Maybe you do after all these years.

A caress,

Something tender and sweet

Your warmth, skin against skin, your beauty

Isn’t it fascinating how each of life’s seasons seems frozen in time?

My vision of you, still a twenty-something

So precious to me because of the spirit that is you.

Our lives,

The bond we share through adulation

Through friendship, endearment, and adoration

We have become one.

That nothing in heaven or earth can decimate.

My best friend, mate, and truelove for all eternity.

Those Left At Home

By D. DiFrancesco

Are they ok?
Where are they?
Questions asked daily by parents of children
But they aren’t really children any more
Only to us.

A letter home
The occasional telephone call
Pictures and postcards
Somehow it isn’t enough to quell the fears
While serving in a land so far away.

We can’t hold them
We can’t advise them
We can’t comfort them
All we can do is worry about them
So Many more questions than answers.

The military says they will take care of them
They say they will try to bring them home safe
“Try” doesn’t make this any easier
But they can’t make such promises
No one can see into the future.

Parcels are sent regardless of cost
Trying to provide some comfort to them
Little things to remind them of home
A little thing to make us feel useful
Yet it doesn’t change anything.

This is what they chose to do
We swell with pride at the thought
We fly our flags and display our yellow ribbons
Small signs to the rest of the world of the their sacrifice
And our sacrifice.

They are a gift
Given to all of us to cherish
They pay the price for our freedom
They weren’t asked to, they weren’t told to
They give because it is their destiny.

Remember these heros in your prayers
Because you know them or someone like them
And because they deserve it and have earned it
This is the very least we can do
Don’t let their sacrifices be for naught.

The telephone rings
Our hearts skip a beat
Hello, is answered with an endless silence
Angst gives way to elation
Hi…Mom…Dad, its me.

Desolate Beauty

By D. DiFrancesco

 

Pale blue cloudless skies

God’s of granite rise to meet it

Hawks and buzzards scream their cries

Parched and cracking earth crumbles bit by bit.

 

Yet life does thrive in this barren wasteland

Angry flora and fauna its solemn masters

Brown and tan the palette at hand

Landscape the pupil, sun the headmaster.

 

Cliff dwellings and hieroglyphs call home this domain

Once proud inhabitants have faded and gone

Arachnids and echoes are all that remain

Of an era that is all but bygone.

 

Still man insists on taming the unattainable

Its lifeblood rerouted and dammed

For cities and towns, its inhabitants expendable

The resultant effects unplanned.

 

Yet with all the scrub and cactus and scorpion

Its peace and beauty abound

The mountains and valleys elicit euphoria

No greater gift can be found.

 

Try as we might to alter its reality

The eagle keeps watch over this land

Man and machine try to prove natures frailty

But nature does refuse their demand.

 

As the celestial heat wave succumbs to twilight

Nocturnal denizens hiss and bay

Under constellations hunters commence the fight

For the strong to live another day.

 

With each days pass the circle unbroken

The animal and land meld into one

Of mountains and desert, lore has been spoken

In God’s own will be done.

 

A Personal Story, Is this Coincidence or Something Else?

I feel compelled to share a brief story with you  that has both touched me greatly and amazed me at the same time.

Yesterday afternoon I completed and posted a poem, “Wither Away“, that was a very personal poem about my grandmother.  Suffering with chest pains, she had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure about 4 months ago and her doctors gave her 6 months to a year to live.   The doctors also made it clear that there was nothing that they could do other than to prescribe medications to make her comfortable.

Initially after diagnosis she had more good days than bad, but of late the opposite was true and she became unable to get out of bed without being carried.   As you can imagine this is a very hard thing to watch happen to someone you love.

Now to my point.   Whether by fate, a premonition unrecognized by me, coincidence, or something else that I can’t explain I received a call from my parents last night to tell me that my grandmother had died early yesterday morning.   They chose to wait to tell me until I had gotten home from work so that I didn’t have this on my mind all day.

I know that this type of thing is not unheard of, but it does make me wonder how something as seemingly random as posting a poem could turn out to be so prophetic, at least to me anyway.  I guess it will just have to remain one of those strange occurrences that happens to a person during the course of their life.

My grandmother was 92 years old when she passed on.  I will miss her deeply.

T.G.M.

March 16, 1920 – June 7, 2012

Rest In Peace