Shimmering pavement
Heats joyous dance on black stage
Fall is in the wings
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Category Archives: Poetry
Blackened Heart Draws Blood (Tanka)
Blackened hearts draw blood
Cross and careless with their words
Hate grows like a weed
How does passion turn so cold
Killing off those we once loved
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Charm Of The South
Emboldened by the summer breeze;
Sun beating on my weathered face,
Gravel crunching beneath my leather shod feet,
Each step draws me further back in time.
Aging plantations blossom from manicured fields,
Emblazoned with flora befitting their past grandeur.
The smell of honeysuckle and cyprus fills the air;
Wondrous is this coalition of scents to the senses.
Wrought iron gates entangled with succulent ivy
Announce the arrival of weary travelers.
Startled… I flush with uncontrollable tears
To realize this beauty is merely a facade.
Hiding ugliness in vibrant color and polished hedge,
Fountains and statues scream of their opulence.
This walk, I so leisurely stroll is etched in blood,
Hoed by chain and shackle;
We gawk in awe at these marvels of charm.
Reminiscing over Scarlett and Rhett;
Nothing but celluloid dreams of an imaginary south.
What of those treated as lesser crops,
Bought and sold like cotton and tobacco,
Building, maintaining, harvesting and subserving;
Flesh and blood herded as cattle…or something less!
Where is the romance…where is the southern charm?
Remember on whose backs this was built.
Remember whose backs were broken for a profit.
Remember on whose backs these estates were preserved.
Only then can you look through clear eyes and clear conscience
At what these really were…
Prisons.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
The “Ribbit” Of The Frog
The “ribbit” of the frog
Sitting on his lilypad,
He lashes out for winged morsels,
Mear bits to sustain–
He never complains.
Enough it is for him to sit
Watching day turn to night
And night to day.
Never bored,
Never desiring more,
He lives by heaven’s design.
Lazy–he is not!
Wanting for nothing
He is content.
I long to be like the frog
Taking only what I need,
Wanting nothing more,
Living by my nature…
Simplicity.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Stars
Stars, an audience–they look down and laugh,
We stare back jaw slacked, eyes of wonder.
How foolish they must find us,
Our mountains out of molehills;
Stressing and straining over our tiny little lives.
Nothing mortal could compare to that of the universe!
Keeping all of those glorious stars twinkling,
Brightening the slate black sky.
How tired the heavens must be
Inspiring romance, hopes, dreams,
The joining of lovers,
Receiving only occasional recognition.
What do we give in return?
Nothing–we continue to take
Just as we have always done,
Just as we will always do.
Perhaps the stars look upon us as the children we are.
Spoiled yet naive to the ways of this world.
To these sages we look for heavenly guidance
Offering prayers for blessings imagined.
This is in our nature
Looking for the Divine in that which we cannot touch.
Who has not looked skyward and begged for mercy,
Beckoned for release from an ill fate,
Cried out for intervention?
We think ourselves the center of all,
Master of our domain–independent, indestructible
Until we are overwhelmed, broken and drowned in tears.
Then we look out upon the vast audience above
Putting on the grandest of shows for their pleasure,
Hoping, praying for accolades
And furtherance from the stars.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Yellow Butterfly (Tanka)
Yellow butterfly
A short life lived with gusto
There’s no tomorrow
Like the throes of our passion
I’ll love you until the end
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Innocent Victim
Innocent victim
Slaughtered by a cowards hand.
Men of God they’re not!
Another family mourns
A loved one lost overseas.
Constant calls to strike,
Hawks playing on sympathy;
Who is the target?
Wolves blend in with sheep’s clothing;
More collateral damage.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Blood And Tears By The Day We Weep
Blood and tears by the day we weep
At the hands of a master with whip in hand.
Giving just enough so his slaves may eat
While keeping them cast in this purgatory land.
From towers of ivory they cackle at our fear
That their purse strings of velvet they may cinch.
Leaving us victim to the profits held so dear
Unwilling to contort even an inch.
O’ the horrors of the indentured organizing for their rights
How terrible and unpatriotic they must be.
To want a fair wage and sleep peacefully at night
Instead of worrying that their jobs just might flee.
Capitalists claim it’s the best of both worlds
That the profits trickle down to the masses.
With a grin on their faces lies they do hurl
Condemning the poor and middle classes.
Those that buy in are the ones they most harm
Afraid to speak out for what is fair.
Choosing to smile and nod with a charm
That sloughs it all off with no care.
They lie to themselves that all’s as it should be
No better system exists on this earth.
While the master ships our jobs away overseas
This shows how little we are worth.
Who is unpatriotic where their loyalty is concerned
The capitalist driven by power and greed.
Or is it the captive dying for all he has earned
Just to live and his family to feed.
In nearly two and half centuries very little has changed
Money and class are still rules of the day.
This is how unjustly our system is arranged
The affluent would have it no other way.
So pull close your wife, husband, daughter and son
For the ride may get bumpier as we go.
Unless we fight back then the master–he has won
Then ever less is all we’ll have to show.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
The Smell Of Baked Bread
The smell of baked bread
Like perfume of memory
Grandma at the stove
O’ how joyful was childhood
When things were much simpler
Adulthood does dull
Senses fade to the background
Turning cynical
Happiness replaced by stress
O’ how soon we do forget
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Faces Of Those Passed (Tanka)
Faces of those passed
I remember vividly
As if they’re still here
Is this our eternal life
To live on in memory
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Dom DiFrancesco 