Sequestration – A Haiku

Image Credit: militaryfamily.com

Image Credit: militaryfamily.com

What’s sequestration

A fancy word for stupid

Kids on the playground

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Parental Anxiety – A Haiku

Image Credit: jrlawfirm.com

Image Credit: jrlawfirm.com

The birth of a child

Brings turbulent emotions

For fear of failure

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Good Night – A Tanka

sleep

Last rays of day fade

Ushering in moon and stars

As the nights backdrop

Children long for beds comfort

Warm milk and the sweetest dreams

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Of Hunger – A Tanka

No one hears the child

Cries of hunger are ignored

Food is tossed away

The richest country on earth

Isn’t there enough for all

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Christmas Past

Christmas2

By D. R. DiFrancesco

~~~~~~

Tree lined streets draped in white lights

Shine like so many stars in the heavens

Shop windows with edges frosted

Frame the season in all it’s glory

~~

Boys, with their noses pressed to the glass

Breath leaving an innocent fog obscuring their vision

Electric trains guarded by toy soldiers

Smiling wide eyed observers left speechless with anticipation

~~

Little girls drawn to sparkling blue eyes of dolls that cry Mama

Bathing them in hugs and kisses

Joy of the holiday blushing their cheeks

The sweet innocence of the child

~~

Santa Clause greets his loyal believers with a knowing grin

Rosy red cheeks and a beard of snow his calling card

Ho Ho Ho echos above the noise of the crowd

Signaling the approach of Christmas day.

~~

Sidewalks filled with holiday shoppers

The joyous sound of carolers fills the frosty air

Good cheer is the calling of the day

Were it only that these feelings would last throughout the year

~~

Reminiscing on past Christmas’ brings such happiness

With simpler times came fewer expectations

The latest toy or game was less important

Instead family, friends and the true meaning of Christmas became the greatest gifts of all

A Senseless Loss (Sandy Hook Elementary School Tragedy)

cn

By D. R. DiFrancesco

~~~~~

To rationalize this cycle of unfettered hate

Would only lend credence to the insane

The innocence of children left to a horrible fate

Snuffed out by a killer’s reasons arcane

~~

We weep for them, for what we have lost

A future taken in an instant never to grow up

Never to have know them, an insurmountable cost

Terrible and tragic their loss we never can make up

~~

We light our candles and say a prayer

Hoping their Maker greets them with open arms

For all we can do is stand united and show them that we care

While trying to figure out how to protect others from Satan’s harm

~~

Who could have known or perhaps have foretold

What tragedy would await these children so pure

Our own  we’ll pull close and tightly hold

To be confident they safe I am sure

~~

Thou shalt not kill a commandment most true

May this murderer burn in eternal hell

For you’ve taken from us so much more than you knew

In a moment of silence we toll the bell

~~

We stand with the mothers and fathers who weep

Tears that cannot bring their babies home

Never again to lay them down to sleep

Their hearts laid bare, broken and alone

~~

What more can I do but say sorry and grieve

For a loss no one can ever justify

I drop to my knees and beg their souls to take leave

And with mourning and sadness say goodbye

The Looking Glass

A window,

Like any other window,

Panes separate reality from fiction,

Anonymity, my closest friend.

 

The sidewalk,

Crowded with actors in this play,

Passers by looking up,

I’m part of the backdrop,

Important to the scenery,

Insignificant to the story,

But at least I’m still on stage.

 

I watch and listen,

Taking in the hustle and bustle outside,

So cliche’ yet so relevant,

The horns, the taxis,

Rushing to get to God knows where,

All to make another dollar.

 

People scramble,

Suits and ties, bohemians and homeless,

Sharing the same life on the streets,

Avoiding eye contact,

Avoiding making it personal

Too afraid of feeling empathy for those around them.

 

The children,

Double-dutch and hopscotch,

Brings back memories of simpler times,

Things weren’t so complicated back then,

Fire hydrants to beat the summer heat,

Careless and carefree were the names of the game.

 

My hands to glass,

Breath fogging my lens to the world,

Wishing I could be part of the show,

Instead of just a prop,

Destined to remain alone,

A fish in this fishbowl I call home.

 

A window,

Like any other window,

Panes separate reality from fiction,

Anonymity, my closest friend.

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.