For The Kings Amusement

Drawing your broadsword,

The shrill sound of blade on scabbard

Sends the wind whistling as you ready for the plunge.

From your gilded perch you call a throne,

You drive your saber home!

Stripping away every last breath,

Leaving those that built your dominion

Clutching their throats and gasping for air,

All to adorn your coffers

With the gold of fools.

Corpses of the loyal lie scattered about

Left to rot in the noonday sun.

You know more will come

Looking to you for mercy and sustenance,

Knowing they too are expendable.

Your minstrels praise you calling you benevolent Lord

While you smile your hollow smile.

With yellowed teeth and putrid breath

You shower them with accolades,

All the while condemning them to death.

You find this such great sport,

A vicious game,

Played solely for your amusement.

Who loses makes no matter

So long as its you that prospers.

You look down upon your subjects

With jeweled goblet in hand,

Whispering in contempt

That they are not worthy of your grace

Nor deserving of your clemency.

So you carry on like a spoiled Prince

Conniving those around you,

“Fear not!”, you proclaim–this is all in jest,

While the executioner readies his block

For the next ax to fall.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Authors Note: I wrote this piece back in November of 2012 and as I expected, nothing has changed, in fact in many ways it has gotten drastically worse for so many people.  Sadly, I can’t really say I am surprised.

With Irony I Look Back On July The Fourth

With irony I look back on July the fourth,

Commemorating separation from the British Crown.

Decrying aristocrats and their gorging worth

And the treatment of their subjects trampling down.

 

Open your eyes and look at us now,

Governed and judged by aristocrats galore.

Expected to beg, grovel and bow

Just as we did to King George before.

 

Over two hundred years we’ve learned nothing it’s clear

As again we submit to the court and its king.

Giving away what we should have held dear

For the promise of a golden ring.

 

This golden ring offered in hopes to divide

The right from the left I am sure

Confusing the masses with promises to provide

Answers to our problems through their cure.

 

But the cure is poisoned by their quest for greater wealth,

On the backs of those who can least afford.

Tricking them to believe by their dishonest stealth,

That there’s nothing but truth in their word.

 

Illusion and trickery is the game of the day,

Substance something long ago past.

Diverting ones blame is the partisan way,

Spewing venom as long as it lasts.

 

If truth does not sell then they coat it in lies,

Said long enough they’re bound to believe.

People are gullible say their political spies,

They’ll swallow whatever we conceive.

 

Free press is now gone in lieu of partisan hacks,

Towing their hate-filled party lines.

Convincing the audience that they’re watching their backs,

While raking in millions all the time.

 

With sadness I watch our republic disappear

Under the weight of corruption and greed.

Leaving the powerless amongst us I fear

To scratch and claw for all that they need.

 

Convinced they’re a burden and a waste of our time

Pretending that they don’t exist.

From their pit of despair alone they’re left to climb,

Should they fail it’s unlikely they’ll be missed.

 

America has lost the humanity it once had,

Trading it for profit and conceit.

Where helping one another was more than a fad,

It was a facet of what made us complete.

 

Deception is all part of the elites master plan

Pitting each man against his brother.

Feeding the masses as much fear as they can,

Blaming the cause on another.

 

Unless we take a stand, the ninety-nine percent,

Against the one percent we’ve allowed to rule us.

Expect nothing more than this we consent,

But to allow the bourgeois to fool us.

 

This my dear friends is my greatest fret,

With each and every fourth of July.

That under their thumbs, ever more we do get,

Until America shrivels up and dies.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

With Privilege Comes Corruption

Think about this often

How petty we have become

Money, power, the big house; is this really important?

Money distorts,

Power corrupts,

The big house…a symbol of unnecessary opulence.

Those of unlike kind are frowned upon,

Lazy,

Bloodsuckers,

A drain on the system,

Is this what we have become?

Those with means holding us hostage,

Our station in life seals our fate,

Threatening to exterminate ones less fortunate,

All in the name of progressing their adgenda.

Civility and compassion tossed aside like so many feathers to the wind,

Cast out as unimportant,

So unnecessary in this capitalist system,

The needs of the few eclipse those of the many.

Talking heads and bureaucrats tow the line,

Telling us that this is our foundation,

Lies and deceit disguise their motives,

Their pockets lined with fools gold.

Still they profit at societies expense,

And we buy in to the hollow rhetoric,

Smiling and clapping as they spew their bile,

Blind to the parade marching to it’s own demise.

Our representation sold for profit,

With wealth comes power and the rise of aristocracy,

This was not the proclivity of our fathers,

Yet we watch it happen with hardly a noise.

Is this what is desired or desirable?

It can’t be…it mustn’t be our expectation,

Like mice we scurry away from that which is distasteful,

Rise up, speak up, demand your just due,

Tenacity in numbers can rejuvenate our future,

Forcing the tyrants to bow to our intentions.