To have lost at love
A horrible thing indeed
Never to have loved
Is a gift truly wasted
That can never be retrieved
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
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Ladies and Gent at the finest affair,
Linked arm-in-arm with noses in the air.
Paying no mind to the commoner on the street,
Entering the great hall they prepare for a treat.
A show for the ages with music and dance,
They surely wouldn’t miss it given the chance.
Seductive young ladies kicking legs in the air,
Dancing the can-can with nary a care.
The Gents take to whistling, they hoot and they holler,
While the ladies most appalled grab their men by the collars.
Such a circus is this with no animals or tent,
They must on this Sunday go to church and repent.
For now though they’re free to do as they please,
Revelling in the lust of the show as they tease.
Enjoying their sins amongst cigar smoke and booze,
Welcome Ladies and Gents to the Moulin Rouge.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Jeremy’s Daily Challenge – Picture This Monday 15 September
At the Moulin Rouge by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec -
Pain…like no other
Living–wrong side of the tracks.
Dirty and hungry;
Sunken eyes reveal sadness
Under shroud of filthy streets.
Urchins you call them,
Throwaways to be ignored,
Wastes of human flesh.
Where is your humanity?
They’re people like you and me
Children of this world
Worthy of our sympathy
Worthy of our love
You best take heed!
For one day it may be you
That is spit upon.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
Knowing right and wrong
We blame it on upbringing
Wooden switch draws blood
He’s just a child of four
How terrible could he be
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
I thought you all might be interested in this poetry anthology featuring 19 great WordPress poets, some of whom you may know and others you don’t. In fairness, I am honored to be included amongst the 19. Emily Sturgill did a wonderful job in coming up with the idea, coordinating the group of poets and publishing this book. Why not check it out.
-
Erased–blood stains and voices
Roadway washed clean by rain
Anger and outrage quelled
Silenced by media’s waning interest
Under the ground in which he’s buried roots still grow
Racism–spreading like crabgrass
Eviscerating the people of justice.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
Naked and raw
Blasting from the womb like a seedling from its pod
Screaming for the first breath
So begins the amazing campaign
A politician elected to life.Born out of love or lust
The aftermath which is indistinguishable
Unquenchable contest for sustenance
To triumph is all that is known
Primal urges the impetus to persist.Adolescence brings arrogance
As maturity is sluggish to prevail over unrefined emotion
Enmity and dispute become commonplace
Tightening the reins like those of an untamed mustang
Welcome, right of passage.Time quells obstinacy
While Respect replaces contempt
Competition for dominance is no longer primary
Instead wisdom is honored rather than detested
Seeing in age what we hope to become.Understanding seems second nature
Now seen through the eyes of the aged
What once so obscure, is now clear as crystal
Modeled in the image of those that came before
To live in us as both a blessing and curse.Son becomes father, daughter becomes mother
The circle enclosed as adolescent morphs into elder
Kindred souls flow like a river never-ceasing
Reproducing life through life’s rushing waters
Simply actors are we in this great play.Leaving behind those we’ve reared
Progeny that embody what is transcendent
Nature and happenstance will dictate their course
While predecessors move on to nights last voyage
Rhythmically repeating the cycle of life.~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Author’s Note: This was the very first poem that I posted on WordPress back on June 30, 2012. I haven’t read this poem in a very long time and fortunately I still like it. I thought it might be nice to sprinkle a few pieces into the mix that many of you may not have seen. I hope that you like them. Thank you all for the long time support that you have shown me, I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.
-
Wouldst thou love me were I a peasant,
Owning little but what hangs upon my back.
I thinkest thou would not find this so pleasant,
Discarding me for all of this world that I lack.
Wouldst thou speaketh to me were I a leper,
Or ignore me whilst turning a blind eye.
I thinkest thou would prefer me fettered,
In shackles where none could see me cry.
Wouldst thou hold me if I were a poor wretch dying,
Alone and filthy on thy city thoroughfare.
I thinkest thou would leaveth me bloody and lying,
‘Til the ravens come to taketh their share.
Is compassion so hard for thee to perceive, casting feeling aside with nary a care.
Giveth from the heart and thou shalt conceive, a life full of blessing worthy to share.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
-
It comes not in a jar,
Can not be boxed, placed in a sack.
There is no recipe,
No cookbook, no formula to concoct.
There is no raffle,
No lottery, no auction to crave.
It’s no magic potion,
No spell, no wand you can wave.
Very often there’s pain
It slashes, it slices right down to the bone.
Frequently it’s blind,
It’s crippled, it’s stunted as others have shone.
But more often than not it results in true bliss,
It’s passion, it’s love that is tops on the list.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
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Do spirits exist
Walking the earth after dark
Or are we alone
It can’t be coincidence
That things go bump in the night
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
