Knowing Right And Wrong (Tanka)

Knowing right and wrong

We blame it on upbringing

Wooden switch draws blood

He’s just a child of four

How terrible could he be


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Echoes Of Laughter

Echoes of laughter

Smiling faces of children

–Innocence at play

Sights, sounds of another time

When being a kid was cool

The cries of hunger

Tears streaming down sunken cheeks

–Modern travesty

While the rich still get richer

Children starve for no reason


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


#BringBackOurGirls (Acrostic)

Blinded by time as we always are,

Resolved to forget the distasteful,

Ignoring that which is too painful,

No amount of justification is acceptable for this behavior.

Gathering around Beyonce, JayZ and Solange…is this news?


Bling and elevator drama are these really important?

Anger and outrage should be the response;

Children, our future–that is what’s important!

Kidnappers, inhuman animals, they should be our news.


Our mission, yours and mine.

Undermining peace through fear

Revealing their true selves…they are cowards and thugs.


Getting these girls back should be our only focus;

Innocence demands it!

Regaining focus, putting the frivolous aside, this is our human mission.

Let us unite as one world regardless of race, creed or color and

Stop those that prey on the innocent, the helpless, OUR CHILDREN!


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Author’s Note:  I wrote this piece because I am troubled with how quickly the story of the kidnapped school girls in Nigeria has dropped from the headlines of our major media outlets, at least here in the United States.  Instead we have replaced it, once again, with “celebrity” nonsense stories that have no importance to anyone except for the voyeurs out there.   Only by keeping these children in the forefront of our hearts and minds can we ever hope to muster the worldwide resources necessary to bring them home and affect some permanent change in the attitudes of those that I don’t consider civilized.

Do Not Cower in Darkness (Cyclical Rubaiyet)

Do not cower in darkness, in this imaginary fear

The black is nothing but starkness, in one’s own mind my dear

A thing of fairytales and nursery rhymes and legends of all kinds

Impotent in daylights harshness, our worries disappear


Oh…the tricks and fears we dream with our active mind

No matter how many tears we cry there are always more to find

Dry your eyes my little one, for none of this is real

As daylight wanes, evening nears, dreams and nightmares intertwined


Time will tell that all is well, for I know quite how you feel,

Bedtime comes to room you dwell, to God you pray and kneel

With deepest hope your wishes and dreams most in earnest hear

Before you know as parent this same to your own children heal


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


AUTHORS NOT: This poem was inspired and modeled after the Persian Rubaiyet form introduced to me by Jen over at Blog It or Lose It, please check out her blog, I think you will enjoy it.

Lonely Hotel Room

Lonely hotel room,

Faded carpet,

Trust in clean sheets,.

Looking out from high above,

Cracked blacktop parking-lot,

Peeling dumpster,

Weary travelers rental cars,

I wonder why I am here.

Long-distance calls from home

Offer little respite from my angst,

“I love you’s”, across the airwaves,

Still alone with my glowing companion,

Unable to sleep,

Strange bed holds no warmth.

All this, another spin on the wheel,

All this for sustenance,

I wonder at what cost.

Strain on spouse,

Toll on children,

One parent household,

Each trip will be the last.

Until the next time,

Addicted to the golden ring.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Simpler Time

To lay in the tall grass

Soaking up summer sun,

I recall a time so much simpler than today,

Carefree, up at dawn, out, exploring,

Seeking out new worlds, new adventures.

Calls for lunch went unheeded,

There just wasn’t the time.

Mother knew, mother always knew

This was part of the plan.

Friends and imagination consumed,

My world for the taking,

King, conqueror, soldier

How I long for those days.

Today kings become tyrants,

Conquerors commit genocide

And soldiers really die.

Games of youth were just silly fun,

There were no consequences,

There was no death, no tyranny.

At the end of the day we’d shake hands,

Smile and run home for dinner,

Dreaming of tomorrow,

Dreaming of our next conquest

From the safety of our beds.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


The Hands

I remember the hands,

Dark, calloused, weathered,

Like the old leather of my hand-me-down Buster Brown’s.

Skin the shade of olive;

Disfavored for their Napolitan roots,

Unafraid of hard work,

Unrepentant for the right and wrong that they’d done.

They played jacks,

Scuffled in the schoolyard,

Held the hand of their first love

All before the start of the First World War.

Trembled in fear,

Shouldered a carbine,

Took their first life,

Comforted their comrade as they passed on

During the ravages of the Second World War.

Returned home to the embrace of the wife left behind,

Prepared to resume peaceful work,

Lifting crates,

Tossing sacks

Unloading train cars,

Driving trucks

All to support a wife and newborn baby.

Cradled silently to his breast,

Calmed when she cried,

Held her hand on the first day of school

Waltzed during the father daughter dance

Clapped during graduation,

While holding two jobs to make ends meet.

Toiled never ceasing as the family grew,

Their work never eased.

Time bent and broke them making it more difficult,

But nary a complaint did they utter.

Finally age made the decision,

Putting them out to pasture,

A much needed rest ensued.

The years were kind,

Allowing them to pursue their passions,

Until clasped in prayer,

The Lord called them home.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


The sun sets as the moon does rise,

Orange and red sherbet skies.

The man on the moon from slumber awakes,

To bid goodnight no trouble he makes.


Fox and hound and little child,

End of day for meek and mild.

Dreams of tomorrow another day,

To hunt and lop and innocents play.


The Infant feeds at mother’s warm breast,

Before for the night she lay her down to rest.

Pray and hope she sleeps through night,

And not awake ‘til first morning’s light.


Too much to ask though it may be,

Mother and Father and angel three.

Dream of slumber full night refresh,

A full eight hours, “My God we’d be blessed”!


Then Fido he barks must be time to go out,

Jarred from our sleep we scream and we shout.

Climb out of bed quiet as a mouse,

Tiptoeing gently across the floor of the house.


Open the door and out Fido goes,

Angel stirs, then whimpers then bellows.

“Now look what you’ve done!” at Fido we yell,

How long she’ll be up only the clocks time will tell.


Then off to her room, the mobile turned on,

With a “shhhh” and a pat back to sleep she has gone.

Nary a sound back to bed we did slink,

Blanket pulled tight, we dared not to blink.


As our heads hit the pillow our hearts they did slow,

We’ll give this thing sleep another college go.

No other sounds nor stirs or cries,

Another few hours of gratefully closed eyes.


That Man-On-The-Moon must have been up to no good,

Our night he disturbed way more than he should.

As sunlight streamed in to welcome the new day,

Tonight’s another night, what more need I say.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Silly Boys and Girls

Silly boys, they laugh and they giggle,

Silly girls in their skirts they do wiggle.

The girls laugh and point at the giggling boys,

As they make funny noises playing with their toys.

The girls turn away when they see the boys gawk,

The boys chase the girls with the speed of a hawk.

The boys yell and taunt as the girls run away,

The girls round the schoolyard away from them they stay.

Huffing and puffing the boys give up chase,

The girls in their stocking feet ran away with the race.

The boys and the girls in playgrounds and yards,

Laughing and singing, life was not hard.

This innocence squandered to the aging of youth,

Maybe in children we adults can find our lost truth.

Wouldn’t this be such wonderful thing,

Removing from stress, it’s life zapping sting.

There’s much we can learn from our children at play,

Like how to have fun each and every day.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~