Tag Archives: poetry

In Memorial

She is gone now,

Weeks have passed,

Shock is no more.

Resigned to the fact that we won’t see her again,

We won’t share coffee around the kitchen table,

Won’t share meals at the holidays,

Won’t see the warm smile,

Won’t see the pride in her eyes at our little accomplishments.

Grandmothers are someone taken for granted,

They were always there,

From our beginning,

Naively we think that they will never leave.

Still something deep in our hearts knows  its a lie,

We lie to ourselves because its easier than facing the truth.

The status quo easier to take than the pain,

But nothing can stay the same.

Parents become Grandparents,

Children, parents,

The eternal cycle repeats like a palindrome.

I don’t pretend to know what lay beyond this fragile life,

We pray to, hope for, obsess about an unseen God,

Holding steadfast to our faith,

Grasping with clenched fists to the fabric of what’s left of our existence,

Knowing that in time, we to, will meet our maker,

Whomever we conceive our maker to be.

In this, our soul finds consolation,

Finding peace in our belief in the unknowable,

Finding relief in the belief that this world is just the beginning,

That eternal life is not a myth,

But instead a promise of something greater,

Something greater than anything created in our mortal imaginations.

In this hope,

We find comfort.

In this hope,

We find peace.

As we pay our final respects,

In this hope,

You will not be forgotten.

Instead,

In this hope of heaven,

We say goodbye.

Independence Day, A Day to Remember – (A Poem)

The smell of powder,

Clouds of smoke sting the eyes,

Tearing, trying to see beyond the fence line,

Nauseating odor of sulfur offends the senses.

Screams!

Blood curdling screams!

Pierce the sound of canon fire,

Tattered flags wave wearily above the shouts,

The cocking of flint locks magnified by thousands,

Fire!

Deafening explosions,

The buzz of lead fills the air,

Surreal as comrades fall,

The sting of the cold,

Numbs as we move forward.

Snow covered fields no longer virgin,

Crimson corrupts the purity,

Flowing like rivers from the lifeless,

Moans echo through the trees.

Corpses, limbs, appendages litter the plain,

The stench of death!

Repulsive!

Time to reload,

Focus or die,

No time for regrets,

This is a cause far greater than ourselves,

Fire! the General’s call

Sabre raised overhead as the stallion rears

He is gone!

His station irrelevant,

War plays no favorites,

Blood flowing warm and freezing,

Staining the newly fallen snow.

We must carry on,

No time to mourn,

Remember why we are here.

Remember how we got to this place.

History, our history,

Freedom,

Independence,

For the birth of a nation!

America!

Born on the Forth of July!

Overcome

With each step forward

We open doors into the unknown

New challenges rush to face us

Throwing up a gauntlet to halt our progress

Forcing us to confront  our fears

Our doubts push us to grow

To thrive

To succeed at all which we strive to do

No matter the constraints we place on ourselves.

The Star

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Touching heaven with finger-like peaks

Bathed in purple and black

Crags and fissures a sign of her violent past

Yet in these chiseled features there is peace

Calm in her desolation

Joy in her solitude

Rains come, seldom, brief and miniscule

Life  giving none-the-less

Colors erupt skyward from cracks and crevasses

Green, yellow, orange, and purple

Clothing fit for a queen

Floral draped plains bow at her feet

Only the finest for such a star

Sierra Estrella her name

But the cape once so lovely abandons her

Leaving her naked, hard, and rough

No less beautiful in the raw

Standing tall, she resumes her watch

Desert, now void of  an audience unfurls

Bowing blindly to her majesty

Hawks and buzzards her only court

Left to marvel at her magnificence

Her strength, her beauty, her wonder.

The Sierra Estrella Mountain range (estrella in spanish is “star”)  is located southwest of Phoenix Arizona.  My home looks over these mountains and in the years that I have lived here, I have never gotten tired of looking at them.

Unfaithful (A Poem)

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Sultry unrelenting heat
Flames ignite the fuse
My soul tormented in gradients
Shades of orange and brilliant blue
Misguided carnality quells true feeling
Sequestering that which I long to say.

Passion momentarily quenches my insatiable thirst
Parched, cracked my body begging for comfort
A mirage that taunts my senses
Like sand, torrid and dry unfulfilling
Dispelling my will
Shattering my resolve like so many shards of glass.

Agony of desire tears me asunder
Pulling against the fabric of my being
Crimson lust disguised as adoration
Plays me for the fool
Flirting with my emotions
Forging me into that which I most despise.

Frailty maims, mortally wounding the heart most loved
A prayer to rekindle that which has been ravaged
Regret and disgust are all that remain
Illusions dim with the clarity of day
Too late to reverse indiscretions consequence
Tender advances decay under deceptions burden.

Alone in this Universe (A Poem)

Eagle Nebula

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Spying skyward
A field of black velvet laid out before me
Punctuated by pinpoint twinkles of light
Wondering out loud
Are we really alone?

Only the arrogant answer yea
What mysteries lay beyond Orion’s Belt
Naked eyes can only speculate
Mesmerized by sights born of imagination
Pondering human existence.

Man has always conjectured
Primative cave drawings, ancient scrolls imply
Pointing towards the heavens
In search of answers
Was this the origin of religion?

We can only suspect
Ignorance feeds mythology
God,  a being unlike us
A being  born of another world
Could he not be that depicted in antiquity?

We may never know
Labeling those that claim interaction fools
Discerning their reality as insane
Yet maybe it is we that are the fools
Self-righteously condemning that which escapes our understanding.

As I lay prone
Looking to the skies for resolution
With more questions than answers
Wondering aloud
Are we really alone?

Theater of Life

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Naked and raw
Blasting from the womb like a seedling from its pod
Screaming for the first breath
So begins the amazing campaign
A politician elected to life.

Born out of love or lust
The aftermath which is indistinguishable
Unquenchable contest for sustenance
To triumph is all that is known
Primal urges the impetus to persist.

Adolescence brings arrogance
As maturity is sluggish to prevail over unrefined emotion
Enmity and dispute become commonplace
Tightening the reins like those of an untamed mustang
Welcome, right of passage.

Time quells obstinacy
While Respect replaces contempt
Competition for dominance is no longer primary
Instead wisdom is honored rather than detested
Seeing in age what we hope to become.

Understanding seems second nature
Now seen through the eyes of the aged
What once so obscure, is now clear as crystal
Modeled in the image of those that came before
To live in us as both a blessing and curse.

Son becomes father, daughter becomes mother
The circle enclosed as adolescent morphs into elder
Kindred souls flow like a river never-ceasing
Reproducing life through life’s rushing waters
Simply actors are we in this great play.

Leaving behind those we’ve reared
Progeny that embody what is transcendent
Nature and happenstance will dictate their course
While predecessors move on to nights last voyage
Rhythmically repeating the cycle of life.

Honor

U.S. Army 4th Infantry Afghanistan

Sun blinds me,
Sweat blurs my vision,
Leaving me disadvantaged,
Reliance on the senses,
An inconvenient certainty.

Stride faltering,
Dustdevils swirl behind me,
Exhaustion clouds my mind,
I can’t think straight,
Thoughts congeal in random patterns.

Skin burns,
Ultraviolet rays scar me,
Dirt covered crimson,
Cringe to the touch,
Sundown brings little relief.

Feet blistered,
My boots, my next best friends fail me,
Rest, not an option,
I must keep advancing,
Being left behind, inconceivable.

Backpack strains me,
My worldly possessions contained within,
Life and death kept at bay,
Sustainence, munitions, reminders of home,
All I have to call my own.

Never complaining,
Unspoken duty of every man,
Doing what must be done,
Personal harm not considered,
The oath more hallowed than hallowed ground.

Honor me,
Honor me not for the sacrifice,
Honor me not for the blood I’ve shed,
Honor me not for the widow I left behind,
Instead honor me.

For my love of God and country.

The Sculptor

By D. R. DiFrancesco

You found me,
Strewn amongst your clay,
Shapeless, crying for form,
Undefined by nature,
A blank slate with which to create.

You knead me,
With water and warmth you gave me substance,
You carved and cut with a gentle artists touch,
Careful not to go too deep,
I might bleed.

You cared for me,
Soothing my jaggedness,
With your compassionate caress,
You soften my rough edges,
Leaving me smooth and cultivated.

You loved me,
Being sure to hold me close,
So that I would never shatter,
My sculpture complete,
You’ve polished my hardened exterior.

My love for you,
Embodied in the kindness of your spirit,
You have made me whole,
The shape and form of who I hoped to be,
Under the hallowed hands of a sculptor.

For the Love of Money (A Poem)

Do we know what heavens lie
Beyond those which we create for ourselves
Toiling to caress all that mortal wealth can acquire
Pushing aside that which is more precious.

Forage on with meaningless tasks if you must
Avoiding those to be held so dear
Putting distance between you and your loving child
For fortune and fame so fleeting.

You treasure that which lasts so briefly
Misguided steps divert your moral path
Placing that which is corporeal above what is sacred
Leaving family and friendships to suffer and drown.

Set opulence and copiousness in their proper place
Share abundance with those living in stark scarcity
Rekindle your union to spouse and child
For nothing in this world can be taken with you.