Shop in Rovereto dedicated to books, art supplies and prints
Addiction–
One pleasurable
Or painful
For some–sport
Others use it to feed their muse
To read or create
Or maybe–
Acquire artwork
That one loves
A vision
As seen through another’s eye
That speaks to the heart
Love shopping
Or not love shopping
No matter
We all do
Fall under its heady spell
Once in a while
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Shadorma Photo Prompt #7
What is this thing mystical?
One so oft used to determine one’s worth,
To discriminate,
To determine wisdom,
To justify foolishness,
Wasted on the young,
Marking the beginning,
Anticipating the end,
Setting milestones,
Telling us when to leave,
Removing individuality,
Segregating the masses,
Coming too slowly,
Wished to slow down,
Terrible early on,
Then sweet,
Forty old of youth,
Fifty young of old,
Then the precious metal of gold.
Why the stigma?
Why the worry?
This mystic–age,
It’s no different than its predecessor,
No different than its successor,
It’s just a number,
Like any other.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Jeremy’s Daily Challenge – Friday’s Threesome 9 May
Quote: Forty is the old age of youth, fifty is the youth of old age – Victor Hugo
Some say it is a window into the soul,
But me…well, I don’t know
I run, I jump, I laugh and cajole
As though I’m putting on a show.
The youth in me knows not this bodies age,
Ignoring the aches and the pains.
Like a Mad Hatter on the Phantoms stage,
Tossing aside my horses reins.
Playing in the grass, flying kites high in the sky,
Living for just having fun.
Juvenile maybe, lets just say that I try,
Hoping for much longer from where I’d begun.
This is how I choose to live a fairytale life,
One of fullness, prosperity and joy.
Living without the stress and the mind numbing strife,
That so many chose to employ.
Then a look in the mirror reveals an inevitable truth,
That no one can run from their age.
Bags and wrinkles are not things of one’s youth,
As each year turns the next page.
In my minds eye I’m still the same person I was
O’ those many years gone by.
Only the blind would be ignorant of the cause,
No matter how hard they may try.
So the moral to this story is one I believe
To live in happiness and in peace.
Keep the child in your heart, never to cleave,
And your elation will surely increase.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
As the moon rises and the sun bids a fond adieu,
As the final shafts of amber day fade to black,
There is a gentle stillness that overcomes earth and man,
One that’s existed since time began.
Our winged friends song falls on silent deaf ears,
Replaced by the somber tune of cricket and cicada.
The rustling of leaves ring vivid to the senses,
Once undetectable amongst the chaos of the day.
Even the lowly housefly finds solace in dusk
Vanishing from sight with nights approach.
Simple is this time where rest encroaches
Though absent of life it is not.
Those of nocturnal bend do rise,
As they live the fullest of lives amongst the shadows.
The lonesome and distant howl echoes in the night,
The song of the owl a signal to impending prey.
These embraced as a welcome tune
Sing me to sleep under starry sky.
Nature–peaceful in all its glory is my lover,
Holding me in her tender arms until we rise with the dawn,
To kiss the newest day.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Unwanted feeling
Poking at me since my youth
Jealousy–blinds me
I struggle to overcome
This horrible addiction
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
~
Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Heeding Haiku With HA: By Virtue of Words
The Dove – Alex Alemany
Looking through the haze toward distant shores,
She knows that her love is here no more.
“Lost at sea” the cable said,
Whereabouts unknown they presumed him dead,
But nothing on earth or in heaven can quell,
Her hope against hope it was wrong what they tell.
Still the solitary dove of the purest of white,
Could not quench her anguish as day turned to night.
With palm against pane her pain tore too much,
At the strings of her heart he could no longer touch.
Then a tear weaved its way down her fair tender cheek,
As the knot in her throat silenced her effort to speak.
All she could do was weep for him that was lost,
Ne’er to give up no matter the cost.
She promised him her love forever and all time,
To him and him alone his memory enshrined.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
~
Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Photo Prompt #7 – “The Dove”
Storms are not relegated just to the sky,
They’re raging on in lover’s eyes.
Torrents of lust and passions bold,
In each others arms their instincts hold.
Control and thoughts most surely fleet,
As pheromones lead them off their feet.
Entwined their hearts will finally merge,
Giving in to primitive animal urge.
In shuddering release the stars ignite,
No longer capable of offering up a fight.
With tender caress the lovers complete,
Off they drift to sleeps retreat.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
We aren’t born to hate
Instead it is something learned
~~ Taught by ignorance
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Antagonists prod
In hopes of confrontation
With their jagged barbs
This I refuse to allow
They just aren’t worth the effort
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Tell me you are not moved,
Tell me the innocence does not stir your soul.
The joy in their youthful faces,
The way their eyes smile before the camera.
Tell me you don’t weep for the parents,
Tell me you don’t shed a tear for their tears,
The lose and the pain,
The feelings of helplessness.
Tell me this tragedy is justified,
Tell me this crime is ordained by God,
The cowards hiding behind religion,
The animals stealing the innocent for profit.
Tell me, why did the outrage take so long,
Tell me what the world is waiting for,
The children to fade from memory,
The guiltless to die.
Tell me they will be brought home safely,
Tell me they won’t remember the horror,
The torture of separation,
The terror of being alone.
Tell me this will not happen again,
Tell me that education is not a crime,
The girls are our future,
The criminals will be brought to justice.
Tell me…
Tell me if you can.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Dom DiFrancesco 