Templar Knight (Shadorma)
Templar knight
Prepares to face death
Enemies
Heed God’s call
Convert before it’s too late
Or prepare to die
Knight (Acrostic)
Know and feared by all
None dare stand in their way
Invoking their wrath
God has so ordained
Heathens and heretics bow before them
To meet their maker
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Bastet’s Shadorma (and Acrostic) Prompt – September 20, 2014
Armor – By G.S.K.
Ladies and Gent at the finest affair,
Linked arm-in-arm with noses in the air.
Paying no mind to the commoner on the street,
Entering the great hall they prepare for a treat.
A show for the ages with music and dance,
They surely wouldn’t miss it given the chance.
Seductive young ladies kicking legs in the air,
Dancing the can-can with nary a care.
The Gents take to whistling, they hoot and they holler,
While the ladies most appalled grab their men by the collars.
Such a circus is this with no animals or tent,
They must on this Sunday go to church and repent.
For now though they’re free to do as they please,
Revelling in the lust of the show as they tease.
Enjoying their sins amongst cigar smoke and booze,
Welcome Ladies and Gents to the Moulin Rouge.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Jeremy’s Daily Challenge – Picture This Monday 15 September
At the Moulin Rouge by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
Left alone
Stranded and starving
Walls confine
What to do
Surrounded by tenements
To fend for myself
~
Where am I
Where are my kinsmen
My bright coat
I’m barren
Afraid to show my true self
For fear of the ax
~
True sadness
Shows in every limb
Thin, haggard
Beyond frail
My fate clearly before me
A final fall draws near
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Bastet’s Shadorma Prompt – July 26, 2014
Sun and Rain (C) G.s.k. ’14
‘Tis more dangerous than any weapon created by man,
Born of spirit and Heaven’s hand.
Free to be opened and enjoyed like fine wine,
Or corked up and saved for another time.
In anger it rages and wishes to impart harm,
Praying before action that reason sounds alarm.
Planning and scheming are some of what it does best,
Running through scenarios, putting them to the test.
At times acting irrational as in the case of lust or love,
Acting without thinking giving primal urge a shove.
Evil when plagued with illness deprived of right or wrong,
Difficult to cure lasting the whole life long.
It’s never been more dangerous than when behind a wall of brick,
Ignorance and jealousy and hatred make it sick.
Closing off one’s mind is a terrible and awful waste,
Something that should be frowned upon as a sheer and utter disgrace.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Photo Challenge #16 – “Portrait”
Gabriel Neffke
O’ one of pure heart,
Surely it must be enveloped in resin
Otherwise how can it not break.
Thine voice sings the beauty of angels,
Thine face art most ravishing,
Still how many times hast thou fallen prey to artiface,
How many times hast thou succumbed to frisson in the face of night?
Drawn, art thou to that which promises thee harm
Excluding nothing from thy circuitous journey.
To castigate thee would serve no purpose;
Nay, it would serve only to drive thee to be taciturn.
In this I fear that thou wouldst be lost to me forever.
Therefore I am destined to love thee just as thou art;
Embracing thy peculiarities and thy uniqueness
As endearing and part of thy mesmerizing charm.
O’ one of purest heart,
I shall love thee forever and ever.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #16
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #16
Whether from space or terra firma I feel minuscule;
A pawn in some cosmic game in which I am an illegitimate player.
Who is this phantom puppet master pulling my strings?
I haven’t a scintilla of an idea…
I never have–
Though I’ve never ceased wondering.
All this palaver of an omnipotent Being perplexes me.
Where is He,
Who is He,
I have not a clue.
I’ve spent my entire life grazing on the spiritual texts,
Looking for answers to the eternal question.
I suppose that it has not been all for naught however,
As I have become inure to many of the horrors of this world because of them.
Even so the questions come in waves
Like brontides they shake me to my very core.
Unnerving and unsettling are they.
As another day closes with nary an answer
I suppose I shall sit in my darkened room;
Pondering the meaning of life
While I am bathed in the fragrance of fresh cut chrysanthemums
And enjoy a relaxing spot of tea.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
~
Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #14
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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #14
Corn Woman’s Task by Sandi J. Ludescher
Awake before the sun rises;
Bleary-eyed still resolute
No thanks are offered for her toil.
As she nudges her brood from slumber,
Calloused hands stroke the hair of her babies.
To gentle voice and loving words they wake
Casting acknowledging smiles skyward.
The aromatic scent of cornbread wafts from afar,
Inviting even at this early hour, tickling their tiny noses.
Ritual plays itself out day after day, morning after morning,
She would have it no other way.
This brood, her pride and joy is her life, her love, all that she lives for.
Every wrinkle like a path through time,
Each hair of gray that adorns her head
Are worn with pride and concern for them.
Her destiny and birthright lay before her, born for the love of her Brave…
These are her legacy.
What greater gift could a mother leave this world than her children, her culture
And Mother earth just as she found her.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Jeremy’s Daily Challenge – Picture This Monday 23 June
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #12
Though wall of block, a wisp I spied
Through peephole–well not more than crack
Golden hair, skin of ivory eyed
While perched on crate, one two I stacked
~
Her features shone like porcelain ‘tis true
Vertiginous from height or beauty unsure
From my perch to the ground in a flutter I flew
Regaining my wits was certainly a chore
~
Meet her I must if the last thing I do
Her door I did charge feeling strangely at ease
I knock with brass knocker not one time but two
To the butler I ask, “fetch my lady if you please”
~
Loveliest of ladies scent of lilac and fair
Laconic I was in her all consuming presence
My mind like an eddy void of breath and of air
Giddy as most boys in adolescence
~
Most surely I appeared as the oddity I must be
Arriving at her door unannounced
With grace and with style she greeted me with glee
My fragile heart she cherished not trounced
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
~
Prostate on the fetid jungle floor,
Draped in the red and orange ornamental cotton robes of a monk
He lay mesmerized by the tablets shambolic scribble.
What could this possibly mean?
Hands shaking as he held the tablet, deep down he knew.
Though menacing, with his henna facial markings,
He had an uneasy feeling that he could not diffuse.
Fraught with fear, he reached for his decanter of Holy Water,
Thinking he could protect himself from this Pagan curse..
Chanting, the lowly monk prayed that the grace of his God would save him,
But alas, the synthesis of prayer and paraphernalia could not shield his mortal soul.
Gasping his last breath and with devotion still in his failing heart
The lowly monk rose with tablet raised overhead and struck,
Shattering the curse over a rock that lay before him,
Praying that the tablets curse with him would die
Never to plague mankind again.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #11
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
Dom DiFrancesco 