Musings of an Aspiring Author and Poet
Now this year, it comes to a close
Ending on the wings of The Dove.
What lies ahead, no one knows, but
Yahweh in heaven above.
Each resolution we swear to uphold
And honor what Christmas time brings.
Returning as quickly to ourselves of old,
In our lust for material things..
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
The game is on
And we are the pawns.
We make not a single move,
Our kings are locked in their ivory towers
Each trying to outlast the other.
We revel in the spoils, though surely short lived.
Soon we will be crushed,
The trap door beneath us flung open
And we will be flushed into their wells.
The queens they laugh, laugh with a hideous roar,
Their coffers bulging with our blood and sweat.
Opponents from afar, march onward
Caring not the least for us, their enemies innocent.
Yet we do nothing, we do not revolt,
We do not demand better.
Instead these heathens dangle their carrots
And we mindlessly eat from their tainted hands,
Smiling and gulping ravenously.
We consume as though it will never end.
Over and over our mistakes we repeat.
When will we ever learn that…
Big oil and OPEC,
They do not love us.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 21,000 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 8 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.
The kindly old gent with a draftsack before him
Scurries down the chimney of brick.
Graceland or ghetto no matter how grim
He works with an unexplained trick.
Those who don’t believe, scoff and ridicule,
They strangle the joy that he brings.
Claiming his spirit is nothing but minuscule,
A mischief only the daft would dare sing.
The arrogant believe their android smartphones
Hold the key to everlasting peace.
‘Til their batteries fizzle and they’re totally alone
Will they realize, by their conceit, they’ve been fleeced.
Suffice it to say at this intersection of seasons
Those illeists that find themselves superior,
May realize their errors for a number of reasons
Taking on a disposition that’s oh so much cheerier.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Poetry Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle # 41
Season nearly done
All that’s left is the New Year
The question I ask
≈
Will anything change this time
Or will we fail as always
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Watching them grow up
A new chapter starts today
Taking to the road
Yes, we pray for their safety
Knowing we must let them go
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Far and wide, far beyond horizons I’ve looked,
Looked…looked until I glared at nothingness.
Staring straight into the gruesomeness of its face
It manages nothing but a hideous, jagged smile,
A chuckle from deep within its bowels born of hell.
I…what could I, a miserable wretch possibly do?
I am afraid, frightened of what I cannot see.
This monster is not deterred, I can feel its presence
Looming large over me, clawing at my sanity.
I can feel its steaming breath, hot at my throat;
Pulse racing, heart pounding, I tremble losing control.
Grasping the Book I raise it skyward
Screaming, crying, falling to my blackened knees.
Prostrate and bruised for a response, I wait
Yet there is none, no answer, nothing but silence.
Silence and nothingness are all that greet my tears.
I despise this hollow, sorrowful, lonely quest
Plagued with questions thicker than a locust’s swarm.
Nary an answer have I been offered all these years.
Appeasement through words written in an aged text,
My only comfort, based on a promise given in antiquity
I suppose this…this solemn promise alone,
Is the gift offered through
…Faith.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
A single flame burns
Brightly under Christmas sky
Hope springs eternal
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
