The purpose of man
Lies not in acquisitions
Like pieces of gold
But in the fortune he’s shared
Freely with mankind
~ A Tanka~
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
Mirror shattered,
Bluish-green razor edge inviting,
Showing me pieces of who I used to be,
In fractured frames,
Blurring the lines of my worn and weary face.
To go on seems pointless,
In light of the disappointment I’ve sown in my life,
What relief cool glass to flesh would bring,
Were it not for the disappointment it would usher,
The woes of family and friends,
The abomination I would be before God,
The cowardice of my soul,
The greater Hell I would face.
Maybe this life is the biblical Hell,
Perhaps everything hereafter is Heavenly,
I do not know,
I can not know,
These things beyond the knowledge of man,
Revealed as mystery whilst I breath.
Of this I am certain, I will carry my burden,
Not for me as I am beyond hope,
But for those around me,
To prevent the shame of my imperfections.
Maybe this is the cross that I must bear,
Heavy…splinters piercing my flesh,
Wretched in this worldly skin.
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
Clamming on the Barnegat Bay Marsh grass swaying to summer’s breeze music,
Wafting smell of sulfur…cattail decay permeates the air,
Skeleton legged egrets skate over muck and mire,
Silently stalking, without trace or print,
Fisher of frog and killie and eel satiate the craw,
Atypical beauties gliding amongst driftwood and jellyfish.
Gulls chatter wakes the quiet of the rustling reeds,
Circling, cawing in haphazard patterns above the sea,
Groupies to fish laden boats anxious for port,
Unafraid…swooping to touch the hand that feeds,
Scraps of innards, heads, tails treats for the monochrome crew,
Relentless in their acrobatic aerial pursuit.
Sullen skies harvest chilly rains, whipping winds churn the bay to froth,
Whitecaps endlessly roll across turbulent waters,
Crashing to port and starboard in a symphony of wind-swept spray,
Biting hardened faces, skin soaked..raw with each pull of the rake and tong,
Muscle aches, such minute reward, so honorable the sacrifice,
For bushels of clams…the elusive cherry stone.
Brutality of summer’s heat nor winter’s cold deters,
Boats of wood, chipping and weathered, flat-bottom or “v”,
Designs dreamt in the mind of another century,
Purpose built, purpose born, rugged men, bred for the rigors,
Calloused, barnacle laden, weaned from the land, cast to the sea
Baymen one and all, men to their briny cores.
Bay of cedar and Atlantic salt, treacherous inlet throat,
Darkened by sources of origins mixed,
Nectar of life to fish and fowl, baymen and boater, lovers of marine,
Beauty whilst beast when stoked by storm,
Life giving…treacherous for the ignorant and uninitiated,
Wondrous, mysterious…Barnegat Bay.
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
* I grew up along the Barnegat Bay, in New Jersey and worked as a commercial clammer for a number of years. This type of work is not easy by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly was honest work and taught me the value of persistence. This is an absolutely beautiful area to live in and now that I live in the desert, I realize how much I love and miss the bay and ocean.
-
The flash of a spark
Ignites the flame within me
Glowing blue and hot
Like your soft touch, electric
Lighting the fire in my soul
~ A Tanka ~
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
Howling winds under amber moon,
Barren oaks crackle dry and brittle,
Skipping leaves rustle, dead and fallen,
As dogs aghast, bay at the dreadful night,
How eerie trembling in fright unfolds.
Shadows long and deep bury the living,
Cast down upon the earth in a tumultuous dance,
Sights and sounds of Hell inspired.
Whilst blackened figures roam unhindered,
Tricking eyes and mind to terror.
Spying what in logic can not be real,
Hence, even this is of no solace,
As synapse take their nightmarish toll,
Painting masterpiece of horror contrived.
With shutters locked taut, to hold back the fear,
Blankets drawn tight up over head,
Eyes pursed hard to block out the light,
We lay in silence to hide from the dead.
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
Catapult my feelings to the sky
Scattered to poles by twisting winds
Revealed my heart so you may lie
Within my arms, true love begins
~
To you my words no justice do
My tongue in knots, I make no sense
Conduct portrays my emotions true
Offered up with no presumed pretense
~
I choose to pose my love in verse
Too shy to speak these heartfelt words
My love exposed, flowery and terse
In these my heart is garishly heard
~
I have no qualms in sharing my soul
It was meant at birth to be given to you
Without your hand I’ll never be whole
Through God and my faith I construe
~
Distress me no more with nary response
This agony more torturous than death
Mutter your reply, I urge you at once
Before drawing in my final breath.
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
The creak of the door
Floorboards moan with every step
Like cracking of joints
Worn out from use over time
Only like new when replaced
~A Tanka ~
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
Stove burners blue flame
Dangerous heat
Warming frigid trembling hands
Radiator cold
Rent control all he can afford
Children absent and estranged
He’s invisible in this world
Old friends to the old man gone
Passed before his time
Rotary telephone shows its age
Symbiotically keeping pace
Silent and out-of-date
Thoughts of youth flutter
Flashbacks in his fragmenting mind
Remembrances of companions
Lost loves
And a wife
Still 20 to him,
After a lonely decade adrift
Living because he won’t die
He longs to sleep forever
But it is not God’s will
Not his time
Shuffling to the stove
He warms his trembling hands
To wait for meals-on-wheels
Or the Lord to take him home
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
Do not judge others
In light of our own failures
What right do we have
Like David to Goliath
Let us not cast the first stone
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
Hostage to passion
I open my heart to you
Like a treasure chest
Only to find it emptied
Riches callously stolen
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
