Fraught With Peril This Thin Line – Rebel

Fraught with peril this thin line

    Once crossed will wither and die

Not so wide, but ever so fine

    Our elected few seem eager to try

 

Mad men with power where nary have tread

    Kindle the fires of conspiracy and hate

Ever so close the majority dread

    A nation’s short history left to fate

 

This cresipise so deep we fear to fall

    Bottomless pit will never end

Left to the tyrants this funeral pall

    To torments wrath we writhe and bend

 

What’s to be gained by ignorance hold

    Believing the fools venomous bite

Taking their word more precious than gold

    That is til exposed by reasons light

 

Hope springs eternal as the old saying goes

    May the ruinous seed be cast back to hell

Sooner or later nobody knows

    Righteousness waits the toll of the bell

 

This sickness not us wailed from the heart

    A cure lies ahead in the booth

Now is the time never too late to start

    The lever must suffocate their truth

 

Time to rebel dead ahead in our hands

    Never more urgent then now

Traitors that poison the mind and the land

    Must be buried by the blade of the plow

 

Rise up! Rise up! You sheepish bunch

    Stand up to the villain’s rusted sword

Truth lies before you much more than a hunch

    Trample to dust his evil hoard

 

If not for yourselves for your progenies sake

    Stiff your spine before time slides away

Your souls are their plunder and more they will take

    Mark these words spoken this day

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Another Season Approaches Fast

Another season approaches fast,

Not spring nor summer nor winter nor fall.

Storming in even quicker than the last,

Loud and obnoxious like the clarion call.

 

Choices are growing, with more each day,

Though one seems no better than the other.

Either red or blue what more can I say,

Neither would surely be my druther.

 

They care not the least for the common man,

It’s all about the silver and gold.

While we struggle on the best that we can,

They tell us what we want to be told.

 

This same cast of characters appears every four years,

Dressed in their Brooks Brothers suits.

Except we’ve added Hillary, a bold new frontier,

Taking her share of the loot.

 

Politics is messy and boring at times,

But there’s so much at stake for us all.

I know that it’s early to sound warning chimes,

Though it’s better too soon than to stall.

 

It’s not just the President, but local too,

It starts from the ground to the top.

Throwing up your hands saying what can I do,

That’s just how they hope you will stop.

 

There’s power in numbers if we all stand as one,

Big money can be beaten by the masses.

Let’s put them in their places before they’ve begun,

Stepping out from behind rose colored glasses.

 

This is our country no matter what they believe,

These thieves and liars and cheats.

Let us not have one more election to grieve,

By taking our demands to the streets.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Shock Of All Shocks

Shock of all shocks!, A conclusion has arrived,

What you may ask drove me to this.

I look at this nation and its leaders that drive,

And sadly I find so much amiss.

 

Squabbling and indecision on the left and the right,

It’s politics at their very worst.

From top to the bottom it’s no easier a fight,

Unable to decide what to do first.

 

Managing from crisis to crisis is no way to proceed,

As the ball is too easily dropped.

We look to our leaders to stand up and take heed,

Of all that must be started and stopped.

 

From debt ceiling to healthcare, ebola, ISIS and more,

They fight each other all of the way.

Afraid am I of what may very soon be in store,

For greater horrors may come into play.

 

We have hearing after hearing and nothing gets done,

They are sound bites for the next campaign.

Fodder for the platform on which they will run,

With lies and aggression to inflame.

 

I look at the response to ebola with a smile,

This comedy of errors that it is.

The protocols, what protocols all to beguile,

What’s the answer is part of the quiz.

 

What do we call them–ISIS or Islamic State,

Would somebody make up their mind.

We got into this one perhaps a little too late,

Over time I am sure we will find.

 

In these two crisis’ congress isn’t without fault,

Ask McCain, he was friend to our foe.

Yelling arm the rebels their advance they will halt,

As always putting on quite a show.

 

Now congress has called a meeting, the CDC to berate,

For its failure to institute adequate tools.

It was fine leaving West Africa to suffer its fate,

Denying funding like cold hearted fools.

 

Messages are mixed on all things from above,

Agreeing on nothing is their way.

Failing to compromise when push comes to shove,

I suppose this is how things will stay.

 

So what is the conclusion from this long winded rant,

More trouble ahead is surely brewing.

Our government is broken and their solutions are scant,

I’m confident they don’t know what they are doing!

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Flames of Discontent

Flames of discontent,

Smoldering under a blanket of Nero’s kindling.

Are we to become Rome sinking under our own gluttonous weight?

Are we to burn under the tutelage of lesser emperors?

Are we perhaps on the road to our own Ides of March?

Such things have crossed my mind almost bringing me to tears.

We did not always live under this oppression, under this division

It is not just the emperor we despise, but the assassins draw our ire as well,

Begging the citizenry to act out.

We act out in separation through a system proving flawed, proving broken,

Causing us to wilt to more of the same.

Could it be that we are destined to be consumed by the inferno,

A later day Rome cast into the annals of history,

Reduced to ash sparked by our own inaction?

Perhaps it is best that we start anew,

As the youth of our “Grand Experiment” is exhibiting its fractures.

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

I Feel Not So Inspired

I feel not so inspired these days
The drudgery of our existence weighs heavy on me
Our division as a people
Who in times of crisis would unite
No longer seem capable of finding common ground
Certainly those that wish us harm must be in good humor
How foolish we must look
Dressed in our Sunday finest
Preaching…”In God We Trust!”
But trusting in no one but the self
I can do nothing to alter the fact
There is no election to hold
I can scream but no one can hear
Those in guilded monuments are deaf but to themselves
So here I sit with a cup of stale coffee
Choking down the morrning news
Chewing my nails to nubs in nervous anticipation
Only to be swallowed up in disappointment…again
Where are we going
I don’t think anyone knows
Those with the map…they too seem lost
Lost in their maze of arrogance
And we are the ones left in the darkness

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Drawn To A Mirage

Drawn to a waterless mirage,

Sustenance proffered from behind a smiling facade,

We long for what was, the honesty, the promise given at inception.

This nation…this world, is not what they envisioned!

Never-the-less, weak-minded and self-absorbed we self-inflict

Over and over and over again.

I too have inflicted myself on more than one occasion,

Placing faith in the faithless, trust in the untrustworthy

Only to have hopes dashed to oblivion.

You also, in honest appraisal, must have done so as well.

When will we wake up to the traitorous criminality of those entrusted with the sacred,

The injustice, the deceit, the blatant prejudice toward the people?

We the people comprises every citizen,

Race nor creed nor color nor sexual orientation has bearing,

Not just for those deemed as righteous or worthy in another’s eyes.

They are us…beholden to us, answerable to us if we demand it,

But instead we cower with an air of disinterest, taking our medicine

Like good subservient children.

Who is to blame for this debacle?

They are,

We are,

We are the true culprits,

Complicit in their scheme!

Complicit through tolerance or blindness, neither an excuse.

When will we awake from our slumber to hold these servants of the public accountable

We have an obligation to the experiment, yet we have faltered.

Laziness and ignorance are our legacy,

The legacy we have created in our own image.

How sad to see our path toward the annals of history,

Strewn with the sacrifices of the fallen.

If not for ourselves, for them we should correct course,

Return to the greatness that was us,

If we still know the way.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Hail To The King

We are living in a land of broken dreams and promises,

Those with means, rush to deny what should be obvious to the rest,

Ha! It’s the Land of Opportunity, for whom I ask?

Common is it for the common man to grow then stagnate,

Trapped in the tracks of his caste.

Not for lack of desire, but of meaningful opportunity.

Crawling up and up only to find the steps paved in jagged glass,

Barefooted from birth we are cut and scarred with each step,

No red carpet nor ivory towers lay in wait.

Instead pittances to pacify the masses are offered to give hope,

Promises that they too are worthy of abundance,

These promises ring hollow…leaving us with the taste of sand,

While the oligarchy scoffs from their luxurious boardrooms.

Cries to the state offer little relief,

As they themselves are counted amongst the elite,

Leaving the rest to scrounge for scraps in their rubbish heaps.

This was not the promise of this once great nation,

Old money, family money, dynasties, unfettered corporatism…greed!

Safeguards dreamt by the founders have been tilled and buried,

Bastardized by modern men with corrupt ideals.

Shall we once again embrace…

The monarchy!

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~