Brochures piled upon the bed, edges rabbit-eared from years of wasted dreams; the world lay before him if only he had the time. As a child Jim dreamt of seeing Europe, Italy, Spain, but it is not meant to be.
A lifetime prison sentence has destroyed all of his plans.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Emboldened by the summer breeze;
Sun beating on my weathered face,
Gravel crunching beneath my leather shod feet,
Each step draws me further back in time.
Aging plantations blossom from manicured fields,
Emblazoned with flora befitting their past grandeur.
The smell of honeysuckle and cyprus fills the air;
Wondrous is this coalition of scents to the senses.
Wrought iron gates entangled with succulent ivy
Announce the arrival of weary travelers.
Startled… I flush with uncontrollable tears
To realize this beauty is merely a facade.
Hiding ugliness in vibrant color and polished hedge,
Fountains and statues scream of their opulence.
This walk, I so leisurely stroll is etched in blood,
Hoed by chain and shackle;
We gawk in awe at these marvels of charm.
Reminiscing over Scarlett and Rhett;
Nothing but celluloid dreams of an imaginary south.
What of those treated as lesser crops,
Bought and sold like cotton and tobacco,
Building, maintaining, harvesting and subserving;
Flesh and blood herded as cattle…or something less!
Where is the romance…where is the southern charm?
Remember on whose backs this was built.
Remember whose backs were broken for a profit.
Remember on whose backs these estates were preserved.
Only then can you look through clear eyes and clear conscience
At what these really were…
Prisons.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
A bell doth toll in distant tower.
From my prison balcony
The smell of figs,
Sweet and fragrant waketh me from my trance.
Much prefered to the odor of irony rot oozing from beneath thy ligatures
That holdeth me captive.
Thy constant seeping maketh me nauseous.
O’ how I long to draw my dagger from its leathery sheath;
To feel thy pressure as I spiral into peaceful eternal sleep.
To taste the honey of death woulds’t be such relief,
For this living art not emulous of life.
I blush to think that this is how my end shalt come,
At the hands of thy cowards and fools.
Yet destiny hath no master
And I, but a pawn shalt be sacrificed
For thine greater good.
I committeth my soul into thine hands;
With the hope that thou mayest sleep at night
Knowing the wrong thou hast done,
–I bid thee farewell.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie -Wordle #10
I wonder as I drive by and see the warning
“Inmates At Work”,
What did they do to be enslaved?
Permitted to work unhindered by chains,
Supervised by unarmed guards,
Yet still not free to return home after a days work
They are prisoners none-the-less.
I pity them
And pray that this serves as a lesson learned.
Dressed in blaze orange jumpsuits
They are held up as a spectacles, less than human,
Humiliated publicly as part of their punishment.
What was the crime that revoked their freedom
Placing them in the counties charge?
These women…
Most young with full lives ahead of them
Will bear a badge of shame that will haunt them,
Taking away the promise of their futures
Until the day they die.
Having paid for their digression means little
As the weight of incarceration will shadow them all of their days.
Should we not show greater mercy and forgiveness,
Have we not all deviated at one time or another from what is considered just.
I have, of that I am certain, but by luck I remained free.
As a very wise Man once said,
“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”
I for one have placed my stone firmly on the ground.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Do not take pleasure
In the loss of two young souls.
Families tattered,
The victim forever changed,
Innocence left smoldering,
Trust left in ruins.
Is there no morality?
What happened to right and wrong?
A hollowed culture.
There are no winners this day,
Only losers can remain.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco
Dom DiFrancesco 