Thunder-clap booming
As lightning illuminates
The storm’s stage is set
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Musings of an Aspiring Author and Poet
I question God;
Not the existence of,
But the singularity of his being.
Might We not be God I ask,
Creators of this world, this reality;
All of us, the collective,
Our spirits, our hearts, our souls
Forming order out of this presumed chaos,
Though perhaps it is not chaos at all,
Rather a mysterious perfection.
It diminishes not our desire for God
Nor should it be thrown into oblivions pit.
Instead it should be sought after with fervor.
Where though, lies the question.
Religion begs us to look towards the heavens,
Drawing truth from books transcribing God through man,
Placing faith in idols and symbols,
Traveling down another’s path,
Still answers are as void as those of the godless.
Perhaps our quest has been misguided,
Perhaps we have been intimate with God all along
But did not recognize him when spoken too.
Blinded by our perceptions of the outside reality,
Ignorant to our inside spirituality for fear of damnation,
We look for what we already may already have…
I ask, couldn’t we be God?
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
For my friends that are reviewers, you might be interested in helping this small publishing house out. If so please contact them.
Hello great world of WordPress. We are always on the lookout for reviewers and review blogs to send our publications to. If you run a blog or site which reviews poetry and fiction, drop us a line at info@dagdapublishing.co.uk, or leave a comment here and we’ll get back to you. We already have a growing list of contacts in the online and traditional genres of media, and we’d love to add you to that list.
If you’re not a reviewer, but think you know someone who may be, can you help us out by reblogging/retweeting and sharing this post around? We are a small publishing company and any help from you will mean the world to us :)
Drinking dulls the pain,
Feeding the same worn excuse,
Permitting abuse,
Damaging family and friends,
Leaving no external scars.
Yet wounds just as real
Bleed, becoming infected,
Contagious with time,
Perpetuating sickness
For generations to come.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Monsters and demons
Hide inside each one of us
Life of denial
Scared to face our deepest selves
Afraid of what we might see
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Its a dark closet,
Door shut,
Bolt fixed,
Lock turned.
Reaching above the door frame,
Skeleton key missing.
Clanging of metal tells the tale.
You’ve locked yourself inside,
Stolen the key.
Don’t you want rescue,
To be saved,
Freed from this dungeon?
In an instant
Lights go out.
No sign of life beneath locked door.
All is quite,
Retreating to the recesses of your mind.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Cloudless sky,
Granite peaks part blue
Bright canvas.
This painting,
Brushed from an artists palette,
A true masterpiece.
~
Perfection,
Born of natures hand
Is flawless.
To compare
With the mortal works of man
Would be an insult.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
~
Author’s Note: The Shadorma is a poetic form consisting of a six-line stanza (or sestet). The form is alleged to have originated in Spain. Each stanza has a syllable count of three syllables in the first line, five syllables in the second line, three syllables in the third and fourth lines, seven syllables in the fifth line, and five syllables in the sixth line (3/5/3/3/7/5) for a total of 26 syllables. A poem may consist of one stanza, or an unlimited number of stanzas (a series of shadormas). The information above was from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadorma.