Flayed like road kill quivering
Unseen and left for dead
On black, cold asphalt shivering
A crack upside the head
From gaping wounds bleeding
A gasp for one last breath
The feel of life receding
Assured most certain death
The black it grows darker still
No longer knowing this place
Sounds they fade and silence fills
The whole of dying minds space
In an instant the sun shines bright
As gentle hands draw me to the light
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
O’ obelisk, granite, grey, etched in sorrow,
Not so aged standing firm amongst the tall grasses;
Ne’er swaying though battered by wind and storm and history of war.
Your fields and gently rolling hills show no remnants of ball and shot,
Rivers of blood flowing across riverless plain.
The living perished here as surely as the dead those days,
Pitting brother against brother, for many, the reason elusive,
For honor, family, country, their fellow man, it matters not
As corpses lay bloodied, broken,less than whole.
Fortifications of man were little match for hell’s fury,
Breaking limbs and spirit with each fiery volley.
Friends, who shared hot coffee and conversation over warming fire…gone,
Gazing into the heavens through milky eyes,
Awash in dirt and blood, they are in pain no more.
Thousands upon thousands scattered haphazard,
Turning once green fields scarred and crimson.
Claims that those that lived and died still walk with us persist,
Destined to relive, in clips repeating, horrors of life in death.
In the quiet, amongst the trees rustle,
Smell of smoke and sulfur, sound of shot, fatal yells may still be heard.
Yet with daylights glow the grasses wave in silent salute,
Alone, but ne’er lonesome,
Watched o’er by the towering granite sentry,
Etched with the names and dreams
…Of the fallen.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Picture perfect in pieces
Scattered by the millions,
Waiting for the collective to assemble,
But none of them seem to fit.
We look for answers in war.
Such a primitive mind,
So narrow the thought.
Our conflicts prove coercive;
Devastation,
Death,
Disease,
Degrade us,
Subhuman.
We look for creative ways to destroy,
Enamoured by fatality
To no ones surprise
The puzzle pieces bend and break,
The puzzle pieces get lost,
Our human puzzle incomplete,
Gets thrown on the heap.
Still–throughout our eternity
We have gotten no wiser
And have never learned to play nice.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Painful as it is
We face our mortality
In all that we do.
Just waking up to morning,
Walking a city sidewalk,
On a holiday,
Swimming on a summers day;
The fullness of life
By virtue of our living
Must eventually end.
Do not waste this time
Wallowing in past regrets;
Leave that to the fool.
Instead cherish each moment
For its utter perfection.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Fear not, my dear friend
I will be with you always
In eternity
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Rain fell torrential and strong
Thunder clapped and lightning struck
Reminiscent of Stoker won’t be long
Unless God grants us a little luck
~
Lightning flashed ‘cross blackened sky
Through gothic windows cast shadows eerie
I hope and pray I do not die
In castle dark on this night so dreary
~
Surely my mind must be playing tricks
These things I see must not be real
A touch of flu, I must be sick
For if I’m wrong then my fate is sealed
~
As shutters bang in wind and rain
A winged creature I thought I saw
With eyes glowing red am I insane
Rush I must, the curtains draw
~
A bang, a scratch on windows glass
I hide my face in fear a dream
A few long seconds the sound did pass
Minutes though it surely seemed
~
Then silence befell the musty room
A nightmare dream it must have been
Escape this place, this horrid tomb
Uncovering my eyes I turned a grin
~
Lo’ I find I am not alone
In shock I stumbled and couldn’t speak
Fear on my face I must have shown
Evidenced by wrinkle of widows peak
~
Eerie white and dressed in black
This fiend of fiction now stood before
I must admit I was taken back
Turning to run for bedroom door
~
Faster than a blink he blocked my way
In fear I trembled where I stood
Not a sound or word did he say
Under his cloak and silken hood
~
Then he scoffed deep and dark
The room took on a ghastly chill
Deadly silence no cricket or bark
A scream did emanate cold and schrill
~
Frightened I fell on bended knee
His putrid breath upon my neck
The room went dark I could not see
On whole of my life did I reflect
~
Grasping tightly with claw-like fingers
Hoisting me like a childs toy
Growing intensity my terror lingers
My heart and soul he seeks destroy
~
In a moments notice warmth I feel
A peace then fire runs through my veins
The slightest pinch in fog concealed
Monsters fangs they cloud my brain
~
I feel and smell the blood-soaked cotton
A trickle down my trembling arm
My wound it reeks of flesh gone rotten
Life is held in mortal harm
~
Again a laugh born of Satan’s Hell
Rings as unreal in dreary dream
My will to live dissolved in his spell
Nothing exists but him it would seem
~
This oddest of feeling from head to toe
My body and soul no longer of this world
Allegiance to him now must I show
Though why or how my thoughts he unfurled
~
He spoke in a tongue unlike my own
Though strangely understood by chance
You’ll never escape, I’ve returned you home
To eternity lived under Dracula’s trance
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Let not your passing be a bitter end,
Longevity and richness of spirit be the gift;
Fight to the death and ne’er bend.
.
This to God his glory send,
Raising hands up to Heaven lift;
Let not your passing be a bitter end.
.
Destiny demands of life defend,
Yours–the command to ford the rift;;
Fight to the death and ne’er bend.
.
Nay, claims to be simple had ne’er descend,
Through pain and suffering we all must sift;
Let not your passing be a bitter end.
.
On judgement day God’s peace must lend,
To Heavenly treasures of joy doth shift;
Fight to the death and ne’er bend.
.
Trust in the Lord your soul to mend,
In this the love in your heart uplift;
Let not your passing be a bitter end.
Fight to the death and ne’er bend.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Worshiped out of fear,
Afraid of divine retribution.
One which allowed murderers,
One which allowed adulterers,
With an apology,
To be King.
You toyed with creation,
Becoming angry as a child
Throwing tantrums
When deprived of your will.
Does death and destruction,
To all but the chosen
Sound reasonable and sane?
With Lucifer as a playmate perhaps.
“Here take my servant,
Do what you will with him,
But do not touch.”
Inflicted with relentless torment,
Sores, anxiety, persecution,
Fear of death,
The game is permitted to continue,
All with your blessing,
To see if he can be broken.
Is this how mercy is shown,
Torturing those that love you?
Finding sport in war and death
Both are waged eternally,
Some with your blessing
Some without,
Either way, surely with a smile.
Sending those in your image to their end
As pawns for your amusement,
This seems to be your sadistic way.
As a final act of brutality,
You offered your son up to despots,
Torturing and degrading him until death,
All to uphold your way of life
And save the monsters which you created.
Would a kind and merciful parent do this to his child,
Instilling them with fear,
Instead of promoting goodness and love?
This question must be answered!
Faith alone does not absolve you of responsibility
For the adulterated state of our being.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Call me cynical
For not having faith in you
Lies have tainted me
Asking to trust what you know
Haven’t we done this before
~
~~Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Each stanza within this poem is an individual landays which I nested with other individual landays to make a longer poem focusing on a single topic.
~
~
I am drawn to your crystal clear eyes
For its there I find truth, peace and love in abundance
,
Were it not for you I would perish
Swallowed up by the worlds lack of humanity
.
Your tender touch is a reminder
That goodness surely does exist in spite of our faults
.
My hope is for better days ahead
Where man finally faces the error of his ways
.
Would not a lasting peace serve us all
Ending our torrential thirst for never ending war
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
~
Authors Note: A landays is form of folk poetry from Afghanistan. Meant to be recited or sung aloud, and frequently anonymous, the form is a couplet comprised of 22 syllables. The first line has 9 syllables and the second line 13 syllables. Landays end on “ma” or “na” sounds and treat themes such as love, grief, homeland, war, and separation. See Eliza Griswold’s extensive reporting on the form in the June 2013 issue of Poetry, in which she explains how the form was created by and for the more than 20 million Pashtun women who span the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan.
~
The ending on “ma” or “na” sounds applies to the Pashtun language and was disregarded in English. Each stanza within this poem is an individual landays which I nested with other individual landays to make a longer poem focusing on a single topic.
Dom DiFrancesco 