Pondering Things

Pondering things more now than ever

I’m finding out how little I know.

I don’t understand human nature;

Its incessant need for power,

Its unquenchable greed,

Its innate ability to hate,

Its thirst to subjugate others.

Look no farther than the news;

War is spreading at a rapid pace,

Our young men and women are sent to fight,

For what…our freedom?

Only true if freedom flows from a pump.

Their blood is being exchanged for oil,

Sounds criminal unless you are a capitalist.

Poverty is running rampant,

The rich are getting richer

While the middle-class drowns

And the poor are being mowed under.

Our children are sunk into debt

For the privilege of an education.

Education is not a privilege but a right,

Only a fool would think otherwise…

You laugh…

Well then, a fool I must be!

With no where else to turn

We look toward the government,

Corrupt, divisive, they are of no help.

No! Don’t dare pull the party card,

Your blind faith in either cesspool is deplorable.

Don’t think for a second that they care about us,

Most of us don’t have the money to buy that kind of loyalty.

These behemoths only tolerate us because they have to.

Lobbyists and corporations are their real audience

Purchasing the destruction of our environment,

Sending our jobs overseas,

Corralling wealth for the pleasure of the minority

All for the destruction of the majority.


In the end, what do I know?

I know what this country…this world could be,

It wouldn’t take much,

Just a little love,

A little compassion,

A little humanity,

But then…I am a dreamer

Who just realized…

How little I really know.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


The Worker

You blame the unions,

You blame the American worker,

Moving your plants overseas.


You say we want too much.

Is a decent quality of life too much,

A living wage to raise our families.


You take no blame on yourself,

Your greedy shareholders,

Gnarled hands outstretched,

Grasping for a greater piece of the pie.


You cry, profits are down;

Consumers aren’t buying!

You take our jobs away

Giving them to those in the third world.


No job, no money, no spending,

Where is your logic?

You ask for more from us

Giving us less for our labors,

Yet our bleeding is still not enough.


Our blood, our sweat means nothing,

No longer are we people,

No longer do you show us loyalty.


Profits reign king in your corrupt world

And we are merely paupers,

Struggling in your greed poisoned kingdom.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Boarded Windows

Boarded windows,

Graffiti covered,

Paint peeling,

Chain link rusted,

Grass overgrown,

Strewn with litter,

Sidewalks cracked,

Shutters hanging,

Door unhinged,

Doorbell silent,

No one home,

For Sale sign,

Bank owned,

No ones buying,

House after house,

Block after block

City after city,

All the same,

Plant closed,

Jobs left,

Gone for good,


What to do

Same old question,

Same old answer,

No food,

No home,

No job,

No one cares.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Have and Have Not

You laud that all you have, you have earned

The blood and sweat of your toils payment

While covering the working poor and unemployed

With a blanket of hate and hypocrisy

Are not your hands outstretched

Collecting the tithe of the state

You are no different than those you so despise

It comes at no less a cost and is no less a handout

Than that received for the sustenance of life

Is sharpening your intellect from the pockets of the people

Somehow more noble than feeding children and the poor

You cry for the state to back down

While pickpocketing the very social programs

You so vehemently claim to detest

You hypocrite! You cannot have it both ways

You cannot suckle at the teats of mother state

While questioning that which she so graciously provides


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Take My Hand

Image,Credit: homesweethomeless.com

Image,Credit: homesweethomeless.com

A last look…Goodbye;

To this home we once called home.

Tossed out like garbage,

Circumstance counts for nothing.

Outcast by neighbors once friends.


Stranded on the streets.

Possibility for work

Without an address,

Hopeless beyond a nightmare.

Where will our family live?


In America

This happens far too often.

Promises broken,

Greed and profit motivate,

Leaving us impoverished.


Pick yourself up!”, cried,

By what?”, when you have nothing?

An offer to help,

A chance to practice what’s preached,

This is our sacred duty.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Here Today Gone Tomorrow

Calloused hands cracked and bleeding

Ne’er a chance to heal

Family counting on the sweat of labor

For sustenance

And a roof overhead

Nothing more matters in this world

Molten steel pays the bills

Scalded skin and blisters overtime

And he’ll go it again tomorrow

The mill a second home

Thirty years, a day never missed

But what matter does it make

Pink slips are coming

Jobs moving overseas

Loyalty counts for nothing these days

Just a number easily erased

Profits put ahead of people

Born of cheaper labor in the Far East

Silence over dinner

Uncertainty an unwelcomed guest

Visits every evening

Wifes eyes offer comfort

Hidden deep, she knows there is none

How to go on

Everything lost

Skilled to do little else

Some would call this progress

Another unnamed martyr

Of the corporate machine

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Circle of Fools

Tightropes walk to the edge of ruin

Foresight focused on the next coronation

Selfish air about you floats

Ignoring the subjects by whom you’re appointed


Millions seek your help after natures disaster

WIth backs turned and blinders on you drift away

Crying our duty has been faithfully done

Shameful and disgraceful are your exploits


You led us to this precipice as arrogant fools will do

Tug-o-war played with lives of no consequence

Calls to work go unheeded in deafened halls

Leaving the masses pondering their fate


Pointing fingers and placing blame like two year olds do

Holding your breath until your face turns blue

Shouting foul to the constituency

Hoping for some semblance of sympathy


Feigning sincerity is not your passion

Ploys thrown about for the cameras leave us hollow

Begging for guidance and utopia in a barren wasteland

Sadly hope falls just out of reach


Choosing to live or eat should not be in question

As human beings should these not be our unalienable right

Many of you say no all for the saving of a dollar

While claiming vociferously that we are a Christian nation


Bloody and battered we hope for change

Praying diplomacy and common decency once again rears it’s head

Instead replacing cordiality with dissension

We are left drowning in a torrent of despair


Harbor not ill will towards those who have entrusted

Compromise in our eyes is not an unclean word

Stubbornness and procrastination will lead to certain demise

Catapulting a once great dominion into irreparable ruin

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

The Forgotten Millions

By D. R. DiFrancesco

The sunken eyes of my child,

Daddy, I’m hungry,

A cry that stings my ears.

Oligarchs say, we will fix everything,


Didn’t you cause this in the first place,

Sending my labor to the third world.

Tell me what I’m to say to my little girl,

Daddy has to look for a job,

Food will have to wait.

No ones hiring,

I’m not high tech, I only know how to build things,

Since when is blue-collar a crime?

We call our old Fairmont wagon home,

B of A took our four walls,

Now where is my American dream?

They say we are the reason entitlements are broke,

They say I’m milking the system,

They don’t know, or even care who I am.

Another day on the hunt,

Another day knocking on doors,

Another day begging for work,

Another day at the food bank,

Another night in our car,

Another night of my child being hungry,

Another day of the oligarchs trying to say I’m worthless,


Another day of us fighting on!

Buddy Can You Spare A Dime

By D. R. DiFrancesco

The alarm rings,

Pastie mouthed, joints aching,

Swinging my legs off the bed,

Damn arthritis,

The cold is killing me.

I rub my eyes to wipe away the blur,

Standing in line to use the bathroom,

It wasn’t always this way.

Looking over my shoulder,

Bedroll, pair of pants and a shirt,

All I have left to my name,

Insignificant to most,

Something to fight for.

A hot meal,

Maybe the last for the day,

An assembly line of the wretched,

Like dogs fighting over scraps of meat,

Degrading and demoralizing.

Back to the street,

Bedroll under my arm,

Wearing everything I own.

More stares,

People pass by,

Eye contact would make me human,

I was an accountant for God’s sake,

I had a wife,

Left when times got tough,

I have kids,

They think Daddy’s gone away.

No surprise work is hard to come by,

One set of cloths,

Infrequent showers,


Politicians want us to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps,

What bootstraps,

I wouldn’t hire me?


For money, food, drink, and the occasional odd job,

Pennies, rocks, and insults are thrown my way,

I’m not a bum,

I’m you, one hospital bill away,

One hospital bill and you are me.

Maybe I’ll get a hot meal tonight,


A warm bed,

Maybe I won’t,

Look in the mirror,

Who do you see?