Time Wasted – A Tanka

Time wasted is gone

Blown like dried leaves in the wind

Scattered far and wide

Imperative, it is

Never to squander this gift

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Some Have Seen – A Tanka

Some have seen the light

Exactly what does that mean

Is the riddle solve

Has the question been answered

Or is the light illusion

~

~~ 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 ~~

 

Caution Thrown Windward – A Tanka

Caution thrown windward

Broadens stagnant horizons

Sown by hesitance

Turning mediocrity

Into lifelong adventure

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Looking Back

Looking back over rounded shoulders,

At friends who’ve long passed;

He can see them like yesterday,

So much like him today.

“Maybe I don’t want to go forward alone”, he thought,

His blanket of bronze and gold

Offering little warmth to his heart grown cold.

His parched lips quiver under mossy beard,

Longing for a sip of cool mountain water.

What lies ahead scares him

Standing at rivers edge.

In his youth no apprehension would he have shown,

His fearlessness bringing out the best in him,

But no longer is he fearless, no longer is he emulous.

Instead he is resigned to spend his life’s remainder…

Waving goodbye to what was

And what might have been.

 .

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

(Words at the Weekend – 17-18 August 2013 prompts)

http://boipoet.wordpress.com/2013/08/17/words-at-the-weekend-17-18-august-2013/

Through The Window Of Time

An old fading brownstone,

For many a decade it has not been alone.

~~

If only we could see what it’s eyes must have seen,

Maybe then we would know where we’re going and where we’ve been.

~~

The cobblestone streets that lead past it’s front door,

Crumbled from the weather and travelers burdens I’m sure.

~~

It’s residents present and long ago past,

Have seen what this world has offered to the last.

~

The carriage, the train, the automobile,

All graced this place whether wood, iron or steel.

~~

From street lights of gas or electric lights glow,

They lit up the sights of another nights show.

~~

So great a loss of life fighting wars on two fronts,

A choice to drop the bomb would end hostilities at once.

~~

Parades and floats to the sailors joyful kiss,

Soldiers home from war we gratefully would not miss.

~~

Then a plea to the cops into Korea we did go,

But our hands were handcuffed by the reluctance we did show,

~~

A stalemate was called that we live under till this day,

Neither a win nor a loss could be granted either way.

~~

A call for equality from the King did he shout,

With hoods and with nooses the cowards tried to drive them out.

~~

Watching as a President is taken before his time,

Paying respects in a long and somber funeral procession line.

~~

The brownstone’s broad eyes did shed tortured tears,

As a people came to terms with an unsure nations fears.

~~

Ducking behind window boxes from the riots we did hide,

From tear gas and protesters we kept our children safe inside.

~~

Then there’s the hell of this little place Vietnam,

Over 58.000 lost never to return home.

~~

To this day we don’t know what it all was all for,

A chapter we’d prefer to lock behind a locked door.

~~

Then cries for peace and love in song did they roar,

Long hair, love beads and bell bottoms they adorned.

~~

Three days of love from a Woodstock would live on,

Though Jerry Garcia, Janis and Jimmy are now gone.

~~

A gas crisis, Beirut and the hostages in Iran,

Oil, our Marines and our citizens held in foreign lands.

~~

Then along came the Gipper to rescue us from us,

Bringing our people back without much muss or much fuss.

~~

The economy turned around while trickle-down became law,

Taking twenty plus years to find out there was a flaw.

~~

In 2001 we were brutally attacked,

By suicide bombers that should have been tracked.

~~

Our World Trade and Pentagon, the heroes in a Pennsylvania field,

So many had died, so many have been killed.

~~

In retribution and revenge we invaded Iraq,

To topple Saddam and push the Revolutionary Guard back.

~~

Into Afghanistan we marched as others had before,

With an uneasy partner in Islamabad and Lahore.

~~

An attempt to democratize third-world tribes,

Costing our mothers their sons and daughters sacred lives.

~~

Osama Bin Laden is dead at the hands of the Seals,

One more terrorist down knocked back on his heals.

~~

All to what end I don’t think anybody truly knows,

We’ll wait for history to say, to see how it goes.

~~

Our economies in turmoil, our politics a disaster,

Compromise and diplomacy no longer can they master.

~~

Fiscal cliffs and debt ceilings in our sights looming large,

It’s hard to tell if anyone in D. C. is in charge.

~~

Where we go from here is anyone’s guess,

Raise a glass and make a toast and hope for the best.

~~

Our past world glories seem far and away,

As we long for that time to be ushered in today.

~~

Our yesteryear’s are pocked with our failures and successes,

Hoping cooler heads prevail and our virtues to protect us .

~

O’ the good and bad this old brownstone must have seen,

The lessons taught through history, I’m hoping we did glean.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

You

When writing of you

Perplexed am I to the form.

No mold can contain you.

So much of life is a Parody,

Laughing at your ingrained silliness,

The mischievousness of your smile,

Twinkling eyes with a smoldering fire.

Haiku’s genteel nature is far too small,

Sister Tanka tries to express,

But her attention is much too short.

Perhaps an Ode would suffice

For flattery is your just due,

Ensued by inevitable embarrassment.

I could venture to sum your essence

Through the singularity of an Acrostic

Though this would scarcely scratch the surface.

Perhaps Triolet would be more fitting,

For none too often can I express the depth of my love;

Repetition surely would serve as reminder.

Even with all these

None can capture your unrestrained spirit,

The flow of you through space and time.

I will not try to confine you, that would be unfair.

Instead I will let you spread your wings

Writing your own verse

In the form of…

Free.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Ember And Wolf

Embers waft skyward

Like a million tiny suns.

Free to travel ,

Going where the wind takes them,

Caring not where they land

Nor what the future holds.

Their time is now,

Today is all there is

As spark turns to ash.

.

Wolf, drinks and hunts

Taking only what he needs.

Caring for the survival of the pack;

Not one bit more does he consume.

Living for today,

Feeding their future,

As it has always been,

As it will always be,

Until flesh turns to bone.

.

Man the hoarder,

Eats and drinks to excess.

Gorging himself,

Engaged to the point of gluttony,

Feasting on food and goods

As if life were an eternity.

Living for today,

Collecting for tomorrow,

Denying his mortal end.

.

Simple ember,

Lowly wolf,

Live by their design

Within the boundary of nature.

Man exploits all that he’s been given,

Accepting what he needs

Then grabbing what he wants,

Leaving nothing

For the ember and the wolf.

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

His Treasure

His calloused hands, soft

Caressing her loving cheek

She– his pot of gold

Greeting his broken body

With an understanding smile

~

His reason to live

Waits for him at long days end

Asking nothing more

Than to be loved as she loves

This he could never deny

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

I Stand Up – A Tanka

I stand up then fall

Like a toddler past his prime

Every step my first

I suppose life works this way

Until the day of our death

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~