Stagnant Waters Their Diseases Yield

Stagnant waters their diseases yield,

Neglectful sores that never healed.

What once seemed healthy now reveals,

Sickness festering, under skin that’s pealed.

Seeking answers we look on high,

As scalpel cuts, we writhe and cry.

The blood doth stream until it’s dry,

Scarring seems as ever nigh.

We chose to hide our seething pain,

Though it cut against the grain.

Now unleashed this horrid stain,

No longer choosing to hide disdain.

Gnashing teeth and spewing spit,

The lower we sink in the hellish pit.

 Brought on ourselves by feverish fit,

The more unwillingly we submit.

Submit perhaps, or just gave in,

Giving up to mankind’s penchant for sin.

Our memories are short and patience thin,

Living a destiny that’s already been.

On fear of death, our egos flow,

No pain or suffering we’ll forgo.

Commonsense be damn as we do show,

We’re circling the drain for all we know.

I fear dear friend our wounds won’t heal,

As those before, our fates been sealed.

We never learn what histories revealed,

Instead, we embrace our end with zeal.

I Gave You My Soul

I gave you my soul

Naked and vulnerable

What was I thinking?

All I wanted was your love

And you crushed me to pieces.

~

Love is what’s sacred

Yet you treat it like folly

And who’s is the victim,

Me…the one you claim to love

The object of your hatred.

~

Maybe I’m the fool

Gullible, the stupid one

Believing in love

Like Shakespeare’s starstruck lovers

And I’m Romeo

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Weary Traveler

Weary traveler

T’is this life not a struggle?

Do not thy heart lose,

Greatness surely awaits you

In this world or the next.

 

Weep not for this life!

In thy pain character’s built

Giving you great strength.

With certainty thou shalt rise

By the loving hand of God.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Looking Across the Field

Looking across the field

Sun blinding me

I’m in a trance,

Mesmerized by the grassy wave.

How did I get to this place

Where so much promise lies before me,

Yet believing the best is already behind?

With each step I trample the tender shoots,

Very much like my dreams…

At one time flowing freely

Bending with the wind,

Now ground back into the earth

From which they were born.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Our Past Watches

Our past watches modernity from the grave.

Sprawling fields of monument and headstone

Honor these souls that ventured on before us.

What must they think of this world as they look on,

Our never ending roadways,

Towering buildings of glass and steel,

Automobiles supplanting horse and carriage,

Our lack of respect for water, air and life,

Politics more polarizing than any in history,

Unquenchable greed marring its noble past?

Perhaps they are relieved to be in a better place,

Sleeping peacefully under a blanket of white,

Winter’s cold and man’s ignorance

No longer gnawing at their weary bones.

As we pass by should we not think of them,

Consider how far we have traveled,

How far behind we have fallen,

What we have lost,

What we have surrendered in frustration.

If we are to regain our souls,

Our greatness and our compassion,

Reversing this slide into oblivion,

These fields likely hold the key

Under their peaceful blanket of white.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Violence Begets Violence

Violence begets violence,

Through blood and terrible pain.

Hatred begets hatred,

With every fallen name.

 

Actions in this moment

Last for generations to come

Long after reasons forgotten

Our passions still succumb.

 

Perpetuating animus

At the cost of innocent life

Caught in the crossfire

Stainless victims of this strife.

 

Given a moment of thought

Or a look in a childs face.

Would we be so rash

To kill instead of embrace.

 

Perhaps someday great wisdom

Will seed the hearts of man.

To recognize the evil

Exacted since time began.

 

The hope for lasting peace

Lives in my fondest dreams.

Though unlikely in this lifetime

Nor ever so it seems.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Yet Another Name

Yet another name

Etched in the blackest granite

Written with their blood

We are called to remember

Each and every spring–in May

Recognizing them

Honoring their families

Their sacrifices

A debt we can not repay

Except with our hearts and minds

Thank you

.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Moss Slippery and Wet Beneath My Feet

Moss, slippery and wet beneath my feet,

Covering the rock and root tangled path I traverse.

Though drenched to the bone I am in ecstasy

For my love awaits by the lake shore.

The melodic sound of the wren announces my arrival,

Yet I am unable to discern whether she is happy or agitated.

No matter, through the mist I spy my lover’s shawl

Resting lazily on a fallen oak.

I call to her, but I am offered no reply.

How perplexing is this predicament.

The mirror like stillness of the lake reveals no trace,

No footsteps point her direction.

What supernal event has befallen her?

Horrible graphic images come to mind.

Did she drown,

Did she fall victim to some unknown villain,

Was she disheartened,

Choosing to stray off as some palliative remedy?

Alas, I am alone,

The fragrant scent of patchouli wafting from her shawl,

This–the only sign she had ever existed,

But for the perfect masterpiece of her kept

By the artist, that is my mind.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco~~

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #8

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie - Wordle #8

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #8