One man’s memories
Selective and subjective
Just ask Mr. Trump
He can’t remember what he
Says from one day to the next
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
One man’s memories
Selective and subjective
Just ask Mr. Trump
He can’t remember what he
Says from one day to the next
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Between joy and sadness is life
Mundane and mindless
Shopping at the market
Shuttling kids from event to event
Paying the bills
Cleaning the gutters
Washing the laundry
Not to be taken for granted
Even the banal can make memories
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Faces of those passed
I remember vividly
As if they’re still here
Is this our eternal life
To live on in memory
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Ghosts are haunting me
Are they real or imaged
What does it matter
Things long dead keep appearing
Wanting to rejoin this life
This can’t be allowed
The past must be left buried
Buried forever
Like the fate of all dead things
To rest in peace–eternal
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
A weathered key turned in a worn out lock;
Rusty hinges creak as the lid is gingerly raised,
Aged dust drawn as if by vacuum fills the musty air,
Like so many travellers on their worldly journey.
This steamer trunk long forgotten;
Adorned with France, Belgium, Canada, Japan…
Reminders of its travels and the sights it has seen.
Memories of good times,
Memories of some not so good,
Memories of long nights,
Smoke filled taverns,
Exotic women,
Exhilaration in the unknown,
Glorious sunsets,
Distant shores,
Warm breezes,
Tearful goodbyes,
This musty old trunk, like my mind
Covets memories of days-gone-by.
Perhaps they too are weathered and worn,
Adorned with tattered tags of my life’s travels,
And relegated to a dingy attic,
But they are mine and mine alone
To cherish all the days of my life.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Who was I before I was me?
I see myself out-of-body,
Living events not of my time.
I am watching myself from behind
A small boy staring at a black and white TV, all alone.
President Kennedy has been pronounced dead,
I have seen this vision for as long as I can remember,
Seven months before my birth.
Deja-vu…maybe,
It seems so real–it seems like yesterday.
Perhaps a figment of my imagination
Or perhaps a fragment of a past life;
A crossover from another time..
There is so much I don’t understand,
So much that can’t be disproven with science
I sense that I am far older than my calendar years
Though how much I do not know.
Hence my neverending question persists…
Who I was before I was me?
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Every thought of you
Conjures up the memories
I’ve tried to suppress
Spilling out my weaknesses
Leaving me spent and hollow
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
It once was a home
Nothing but rubble remains
What are it’s secrets
If only stone and wood talked
Oh…the stories they could tell
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Dust and cobwebs
Years passed
Forgotten to time
Unassuming vessel
Buried
Garments out of style
Mementos and trinkets
Sharing the tomb
Still life memories
Black, white,
Faded color
Youthful exuberance
Ancestors
Relegated to history
Resurrected
Celluloid
Smiles and hugs
Lasting impressions
Sense of pride
Who we are
Who we were
Who we will be
Simple attic
Dirty and dark
Meaningless to others
Family heirlooms
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Outside–
You see a face,
Weathered, showing the wear of time,
Wrinkles carved like dry rivers
Affixing character to a once youthful landscape.
~
Soft skin hands, wipe the sweat from the brow,
Long since retired from hard work,
Thin and gnarled,
They are more bone than flesh,
Still their past loveliness remains.
~
Hunched, from the years
And back breaking work
It’s a struggle just to stand up,
Yet there is nary a complaint uttered
Thankful just to have lived.
~
“Come with me”, said in whispered tone,
Taking a frail trembling arm in compliance,
Photographs yellowed, faded show glorious youth,
Beauty, fifty years past gleams brightly in your eyes
Though the blue is less brilliant.
~
“This was me”, as if unrecognizable
Pointing with an arthritic finger
Leading to story upon story.
“You see a face…”, spoken with a smile,
“But I am so much more…”
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~