Government in bed
With corporate America
Fascism reborn
Mussolini may be dead
But his beliefs are alive
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Government in bed
With corporate America
Fascism reborn
Mussolini may be dead
But his beliefs are alive
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
What is the measure of a man’s life,
I don’t know but for myself.
Money never bought me happiness;
At least none that lasted more than a brief moment.
Cars…I’ve had many,
Exciting when shiny and new,
But their luster is lost over time as is their value.
I do not live in a palace,
It is modest to say the least and more than I need.
Retirement savings are but a dream,
I will likely work until I am called home.
With all this…what is the measure of my life?
It is family, my wife and children,
Their love for me as I love them.
It is the sun that rises overhead
And the life-giving rains that fall,
It is everything that nature provides.
It is living in harmony with the natural world,
Not fighting it or conquering it.
Yes, there is bad mixed with the good,
Pain and suffering mixed with the ecstasy,
But at the end of my days,
This will be the measure of this man.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Gone are those days
You know…the ones where our children are better off than we are.
What is better for them,
Saddled with debt for an education that guarantees them nothing,
Grown children living with their parents,
Prospects for their futures clouded,
Shadowed by unceasing war?
For many taking up arms for their country the only way to survive
Taking injury and death as necessary risks.
Is this what we wanted for our children,
Is this what our parents had hoped for us?
Where do they go from here in this country divided?
Everything is in turmoil!
The government is polarized,
The people brainwashed by extremist media.
Bankers, the greatest threat as described by our founders
Have slithered their way into our capital’s marble halls.
So much promise has been squandered.
This once great nation is sacrificing its young
And for what, pieces of gold,
A return to a past that has long since died,
Survival of the fittest where the rich become richer
And everyone else becomes irrelevant.
This is not the country I knew and loved,
It is an abomination of the worst kind
Feasting on the bones and blood of our children
To fuel its unquenchable lust and greed.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Money is power
Survival of the fittest
And we aren’t worthy
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
The wretched gather
This place of drink and of smoke
Bright lights and promise
Weeks wages folded neatly
Hidden in their Sunday best
There is no preacher
No pews, no heavenly choir
To welcome the flock
Yet hope for the future lives
In each pull, in each hand dealt
Praying for riches
To resurrect their belief
In this countries dream
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Vultures every one, they pluck at the carcass.
Oh yes, it is dead and has been for some time,
But they choose to masquerade it in lively rhetoric.
Speaking not of how they will resuscitate the corpse
They prefer to spew bile at those they accuse of murdering it.
Solving nothing, they offer up a civics lesson as hope,
A promise of a return to days long gone by.
They know this can never be,
That we should never return to the cesspool of the past that got us here,
Still they desire with a selfish heart, to thrust this upon us.
No longer a land, by the people, of the people, for the people,
We have devolved into a country of the corporation,
By the corporation, for the corporation.
Our politicians, beholden to these behemoths disregard the people,
Believing their constituents too inept to notice.
Sadly, our elections show they are too often right.
Seats of government are filled with crazies, radicals and thieves
Looking to promote their own self-interests,
Their own delusional ideals,
The interests of those that bought their loyalty.
Their records show nothing but opposition to the other side,
No compromise, no debate, just blatant obstruction,
This they do, all the while claiming to be patriots and waving their tattered flags.
Perhaps we are as much to blame for this violent death as they.
Each vote cast inflicts another gangrenous wound on this once vibrant body.
I fear it too late for meaningful change.
Our young prefer social media and video games to interest in things political.
What the future holds is anyones guess,
But with crystal ball in hand I foretell a funeral, the body in shrouds,
No taps being played, no mourners present to pay their last respects,
They can’t because they are too busy texting and watching youtube to notice.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Respect for the earth
Our resources limited
Profit is the king
Nature loses to business
When money does the talking
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Drawing your broadsword,
The shrill sound of blade on scabbard
Sends the wind whistling as you ready for the plunge.
From your gilded perch you call a throne,
You drive your saber home!
Stripping away every last breath,
Leaving those that built your dominion
Clutching their throats and gasping for air,
All to adorn your coffers
With the gold of fools.
Corpses of the loyal lie scattered about
Left to rot in the noonday sun.
You know more will come
Looking to you for mercy and sustenance,
Knowing they too are expendable.
Your minstrels praise you calling you benevolent Lord
While you smile your hollow smile.
With yellowed teeth and putrid breath
You shower them with accolades,
All the while condemning them to death.
You find this such great sport,
A vicious game,
Played solely for your amusement.
Who loses makes no matter
So long as its you that prospers.
You look down upon your subjects
With jeweled goblet in hand,
Whispering in contempt
That they are not worthy of your grace
Nor deserving of your clemency.
So you carry on like a spoiled Prince
Conniving those around you,
“Fear not!”, you proclaim–this is all in jest,
While the executioner readies his block
For the next ax to fall.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Authors Note: I wrote this piece back in November of 2012 and as I expected, nothing has changed, in fact in many ways it has gotten drastically worse for so many people. Sadly, I can’t really say I am surprised.
Is it hope or foolishness,
Games of chance,
One more turn of the card,
The next pull of the one armed bandit
Hit me,
Come on–triple sevens,
Changing life forever.
More often than not
The wallet ends lighter,
The heart weeps louder,
The mind is more full of regret,
Maybe next time…
Jackpot!
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Growing frustration!
ISIL laughs in our faces
…America bleeds.
Again we are being used
Because we’re slaves to their oil.
The coalition–
Where are they in this struggle?
This fight should be theirs!
Instead we do their bidding
As hostages to these captors.
We’re fooling ourselves.
This isn’t just about safety,
It’s economics.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~