Image Credit: wakeup-world.com
Love for a child
Forged from true steel in the womb
Unbreakable bond
~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~
Mother and Child – Haiku
Tag Archives: child
Childish Insecurity
By D. R. DiFrancesco
~~~
Its a masquerade,
Decorated in random shades of color,
All to hide the true self from you.
~
I am ashamed of the real me,
For what reason I do not know,
Afraid I might be thought less of.
~
Oh the pure foolishness,
A game played solely in my mind,
Grounded in a child’s fantasy.
~
The excruciating pain of insecurity,
Every face a mirrored distortion of me,
Laughing, whispering, looking away.
~
They avert their eyes,
As if glimpsing some hideous monster,
There’s nowhere to hide.
~
What a horrible delusion,
I fabricate my own nightmares,
Without the comfort of slumber.
~
Travails have haunted me,
Ripping confidence asunder,
Though time after time I’ve overcome.
~
So ingrained is this sense of doubt,
It is woven into my being,
Like an old friend I could scarcely do without.
~
Still each new day is a struggle,
A torment to beat back,
Another chance for me to rise above myself.
Image: Standford University
Purity in the World – Haiku
By D. R. DiFrancesco
**********************************
Your skin soft as down,
Pure as the wind driven snow,
Pressed up against me.
**********************************
Our Lords presence floats,
On the wings of an angel,
Renewing my faith.
**********************************
A child’s laughter,
Innocent and frolicsome,
Instills me with joy.
**********************************
Beauty of nature,
Unspoiled by man’s footsteps,
Given as God’s gift.
Forgotten Warriors
Rock covered armored vehicle
Afghanistan
Children and adult villages pelt
the vehicles with rocks as they pass
By D. R. DiFrancesco
I don’t pretend to know the feelings of war,
I’ve never served,
Instead living the joy and sorrow,
Loneliness and homesickness through my son.
Here I sit in my easy chair,
TV tuned to CNN,
Disgusted that there is no coverage,
Do they even remember we are at war?
I remember every waking hour of the day,
Passing my sons empty room,
Left as a constant reminder that he’s far from home,
Living in squalor, among Camel Spiders and Taliban.
He wrote,
Finally I realize…
Everything here wants to kill us,
My eyes welled up with tears.
He’s his own man now,
No longer can his mother and I protect him,
Our trust must be placed in his training,
Relying on his bravery and strength.
This makes it no easier,
Weeks pass with no word,
Sadness and worry are all consuming,
Struggling to maintain sanity.
Then a brief call or message online,
All is well, could you send me a few things,
I need new boots, snacks, vitamins,
My God its hot here.
For just a few moments there is happiness,
Content that for now he is safe,
Then he is gone again,
No word for weeks.
Sitting in my easy chair,
Still no coverage on TV,
Certain that they have forgotten.
Praying for the next call.
Don’t worry,
I’m safe and doing well.
PLEASE DON”T FORGET OUR BRAVE MEN AND WOMEN SERVING IN AFGHANISTAN
OR ELSEWHERE AROUND THE WORLD
In Memorial
She is gone now,
Weeks have passed,
Shock is no more.
Resigned to the fact that we won’t see her again,
We won’t share coffee around the kitchen table,
Won’t share meals at the holidays,
Won’t see the warm smile,
Won’t see the pride in her eyes at our little accomplishments.
Grandmothers are someone taken for granted,
They were always there,
From our beginning,
Naively we think that they will never leave.
Still something deep in our hearts knows its a lie,
We lie to ourselves because its easier than facing the truth.
The status quo easier to take than the pain,
But nothing can stay the same.
Parents become Grandparents,
Children, parents,
The eternal cycle repeats like a palindrome.
I don’t pretend to know what lay beyond this fragile life,
We pray to, hope for, obsess about an unseen God,
Holding steadfast to our faith,
Grasping with clenched fists to the fabric of what’s left of our existence,
Knowing that in time, we to, will meet our maker,
Whomever we conceive our maker to be.
In this, our soul finds consolation,
Finding peace in our belief in the unknowable,
Finding relief in the belief that this world is just the beginning,
That eternal life is not a myth,
But instead a promise of something greater,
Something greater than anything created in our mortal imaginations.
In this hope,
We find comfort.
In this hope,
We find peace.
As we pay our final respects,
In this hope,
You will not be forgotten.
Instead,
In this hope of heaven,
We say goodbye.
Theater of Life
By D. 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.
For the Love of Money (A Poem)
Do we know what heavens lie
Beyond those which we create for ourselves
Toiling to caress all that mortal wealth can acquire
Pushing aside that which is more precious.
Forage on with meaningless tasks if you must
Avoiding those to be held so dear
Putting distance between you and your loving child
For fortune and fame so fleeting.
You treasure that which lasts so briefly
Misguided steps divert your moral path
Placing that which is corporeal above what is sacred
Leaving family and friendships to suffer and drown.
Set opulence and copiousness in their proper place
Share abundance with those living in stark scarcity
Rekindle your union to spouse and child
For nothing in this world can be taken with you.
Son
By D. R. DiFrancesco
Son,
I still remember the day you were born,
Our first,
Blonde hair,
Blue eyes,
Colic, your tears and cries brought tears to my eyes.
Then you grew,
Grew out of the innocent helpless stage of infancy,
Standing on your own two feet,
Speaking in incoherent tones,
Trying to form words,
You knew what you were saying,
Frustrated that others didn’t.
With age came clarity,
Your words became sentences,
You thought for yourself,
Such the little man you were.
School was so difficult for you,
Younger than the rest of the class,
The agony of seeing you struggle,
Given one more year to catch up with your friends.
Sensitive,
So much abuse,
So much pain,
Kids can be so cruel,
Yet you overcame adversity and became more resilient for it.
The teen years, your talents flourished,
Maturity and confidence raised their heads,
Still a sense of humor persisted,
Highlighting that which makes you who you are,
Sensitive, caring, intelligent and funny.
Now you are a man,
A better man than your father,
Strong, confident, brave…fearless in the face of distress,
Sacrificing unselfishly for the benefit of others.
We swell with pride at the thought of what you have become,
Independent,
Letting us know that we taught you well,
Doing more in your short life than we ever dreamed was possible,
Son.
Dom DiFrancesco 