Tag Archives: story

A Buffeting Wind

A buffeting wind lashes at my person;

Crashing waves spit salty spray, soaking me to the skin,

I’m cold…much colder than this July day

This is freedom…sugar sand liberating my calloused soles.

~

A dream of floating out to sea,

Bare chested–bronzing in the noonday sun.

Drifting past jetty and buoy on my way to shores unknown.

Modern distractions left unguarded shoreside

To be gathered by the random wayfarer.

I have no need for these where I go.

How peaceful without ring or correspondence.

~

Hello jailbird gull, my only companion,

Keeping watch whilst the coast fades to a distant memory.

Farewell my feathered friend as I drift on gulf stream current,

Nothing but the gentle slosh of waves

To subdue the rejuvenating silence.

~

I never noticed the elegance of the virginal cumulus above me,

The pearl blue backdrop sky,

So much is lost to the rigors of our daily commune.

~

As day retreats from the night,

I am consumed by the star lit blanket.

So vast is the sky, so numerous the stars

All but lost amongst civilization.

In a moment of clarity I could almost see the man-on-the-moon,

Smiling at me in his mad-dash from crater to crater.

~

The chatter of the gentle humpback wakes me from my slumber,

Gracefully arching above the surface

For a life-giving breath.

Taking his waiting fin, we converse telepathic;

No fear, no anxiety do we impart.

~

Could there be anything more tranquil on this ravaged earth?

Awakening from this waking dream, so many times envisioned,

I long for it’s solitude,

It’s raw beauty,

Where I’m free.

~

~Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

~

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I wrote this one over the summer while I was reading Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass…he inspired me,  I just love Whitman’s style.

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 ~~

 

It Grows Dark in a Firestorm of Tumultuous Passion (Sonnet)

It grows dark in a firestorm of tumultuous passion

Thoughts of you under another’s caress

Fighting to keep you in any fashion

Its you, by any means I must possess

~

You promised eternal love before family and friends

I do, sealed with a kiss we were wed

Our vows for you clearly were a means to an end

By the folly you’ve made of our bed

~

Is not the sanctity of marriage to be held sacred

Clearly not by your monogamous charade

You’ve done nothing more than fertilize a hatred

Flaunting your sins as if on parade

~

With this to my senses I have finally arrived

At the realization–what I thought was love was really contrived

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Will I…

Were I cast out to sea, adrift…in a small boat,

Floating…gliding up and down over diamond-head swells;

Bathing under a star soaked sky,

Will I be seen by God?

~

Were I crawling, dirty…clothes worn ragged,

Parched…flesh burning, blistered and bleeding;

Boiled under a hellish sun,

Will I be saved by God?

~

Were I bedridden, covered in sores…begging for death,

Terminal…no hope, living in utter despair;

A slave to this mortal body,

Will I be spared by God?

~

Were I to pass…peacefully or in torment,

Eyes closed…draped in white as I was at birth;

No more a victim to my earthly form,

Will I be welcomed by God?

~

For all the wrongs I’ve done, all the sins I have notched,

The list is long, written in stone, my autobiography;

My claim on humanity not unlike others,

Will I be forgiven by God?

~

Will I be seen…

Will I be saved…

Will I be spared…

Will I be welcomed…

Will I be forgiven…

By God?

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Faces in the Crowd (Tanka)

Faces in the crowd

Each–a novel without words

To be imagined

Comedy or tragedy

We will never know the truth

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Stories – A Tanka

Stories fill my mind

Plot and character consume

Writing is a drug

No less addictive than crack

and no less of a life changer

~

~~ Dominic R  DiFrancesco ~~

Stuck

Stuck in a rut, a ditch,

Then again, maybe a canyon.

I yell and my words return

Echo after echo, a ricochet.

Each time I try to find my voice,

It rebounds a fainter rendering of itself.

Reminiscent of a story,

One told ad nauseam until it is no longer heard.

Story after story,

Poem after poem,

Groundhog day.

Where does the voice hide?

How does it break out of it’s own mediocrity?

It calls in hushed tones,

Knocks at the threshold waiting to be let in,

Though somehow I’m too late to answer.

So I wait, peering through the peephole,

For the sound of my voice,

To knock on the door again,

This time I’m ready.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

The Beast

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Red is the moon,
Supernatural in it’s beauty
Frightening in it’s difference,
A distant howl shatters the dead quite night.

A mid-summer chill gnaws at my bones,
Trees casting shadows black as pitch,
Swaying in an unnatural dance,
Again, the wolf’s howl pierces the darkness.

Myths of old dash through my mind,
Illusions fog my senses,
Feeling helpless in the sight of the unseen,
Hastening my step to reach safety, but why?

The sound of footsteps,
Intermingling, then silencing my own,
I stop to listen,
Nothing but the wind rustling invisible folliage.

Sweat beads on my brow,
Dripping in torrents,
Clouding my vision and stinging my eyes,
Lips chapping cold, salty, hard to breathe.

Strangeness strangles me,
The howls are closer now, more frequent,
I strain to maintain composure,
Certainly this must be in my head.

My pace quickens as does my heartbeat,
Trying to outrun the howl,
Peering wide-eyed, over left shoulder then right,
Limbs and briars tear at my flesh.

Staggering confusion overtakes me,
Nothing seems familiar or friendly,
Sounds magnified with my heightened sense of awareness,
Stumbling, disoriented, trembling with fear.

But why?
Could it not be a dog?
A pet gone astray?
They say dogs are man’s best friend.

Behind me, in front of me, the howl,
They’re close now,
Growls, deep and guteral snap me back,
From the four winds they come.

What unholy hell is this?
A thousand pairs of eyes track me,
Nowhere to hide,
Blood trails down my face.

Hard to breathe,
Running seems the only solution,
Turning in cirles,
Those eyes, those howls, surround me.

Shadows, they seem so alive,
Moving closer,
Trying to suffocate me where I stand,
Like hands clutching at my throat.

Running, gasping, stumbling,
Tears welling up in my eyes,
Falling, they are almost upon me,
Resistance seems so futile.

Stunned, my face to the ground,
Foul breath envelopes me,
It’s moisture surrounds me like a cloud,
Terror takes hold of my very being.

Crawling, dragging myself to my feet,
I turn, they lunge,
A fury of fur and fang,
What nightmare has thrust me into this hell!

Beasts converge from all directions,
Flesh ripped from bone,
Pain numbs me,
Knocked to the ground under a demon pile.

Eyes flash a ghastly shade of green,
My body being torn asunder,
Who would have believed werewolves were real?
I can scarcely hear my death scream.

Limp, bloody and beaten, movement escapes me,
I can feel satan breathing in my face,
In a snarl I can see his unnatural fangs,
Dripping in blood, they are poised for the kill.

This moment of clarity,
Staring the beast in the eyes,
He has won, I was never any match,
My throat his grand prize.

Blood flowing uncontrollably,
No longer able to speak,
I can feel my life force draining away,
No more pain, no more fear.

To those that may follow,
Myths are routed in reality,
By God werewolves are real!
Just ask what is left of me.