Tag Archives: war

War (Nested Landays)

Each stanza within this poem is an individual landays which I nested with other individual landays to make a longer poem focusing on a single topic.

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I am drawn to your crystal clear eyes

For its there I find truth, peace and love in abundance

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Were it not for you I would perish

Swallowed up by the worlds lack of humanity

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Your tender touch is a reminder

That goodness surely does exist in spite of our faults

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My hope is for better days ahead

Where man finally faces the error of his ways

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Would not a lasting peace serve us all

Ending our torrential thirst for never ending war

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

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Authors Note: A landays is form of folk poetry from Afghanistan. Meant to be recited or sung aloud, and frequently anonymous, the form is a couplet comprised of 22 syllables. The first line has 9 syllables and the second line 13 syllables. Landays end on “ma” or “na” sounds and treat themes such as love, grief, homeland, war, and separation. See Eliza Griswold’s extensive reporting on the form in the June 2013 issue of Poetry, in which she explains how the form was created by and for the more than 20 million Pashtun women who span the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan.

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The ending on “ma” or “na” sounds applies to the Pashtun language and was disregarded in English.  Each stanza within this poem is an individual landays which I nested with other individual landays to make a longer poem focusing on a single topic.

I Pray For Restraint

I pray for restraint.

I pray that pride will not turn us blind,

This can only result in death.

Drawing all sides to the brink

On what road will there be peace?

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Yes, perhaps lines have been crossed,

But lines can be distorted by wind,

Blurred by anger, smothered with oil,

Causing harried decisions…

This is the time for wisdom not greed.

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Let not egotism ignite Armageddon,

The stakes are far too great.

Have we learned nothing from our past,

Nothing from our present,

Nothing from the farewells to our sons and daughters?

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Tell us almighty, what is victory!

Show us what victory looks like,

We have not seen one in so long!

You ask again for our trust

Yet your truths ring as hollow as ever.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Through The Window Of Time

An old fading brownstone,

For many a decade it has not been alone.

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If only we could see what it’s eyes must have seen,

Maybe then we would know where we’re going and where we’ve been.

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The cobblestone streets that lead past it’s front door,

Crumbled from the weather and travelers burdens I’m sure.

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It’s residents present and long ago past,

Have seen what this world has offered to the last.

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The carriage, the train, the automobile,

All graced this place whether wood, iron or steel.

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From street lights of gas or electric lights glow,

They lit up the sights of another nights show.

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So great a loss of life fighting wars on two fronts,

A choice to drop the bomb would end hostilities at once.

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Parades and floats to the sailors joyful kiss,

Soldiers home from war we gratefully would not miss.

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Then a plea to the cops into Korea we did go,

But our hands were handcuffed by the reluctance we did show,

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A stalemate was called that we live under till this day,

Neither a win nor a loss could be granted either way.

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A call for equality from the King did he shout,

With hoods and with nooses the cowards tried to drive them out.

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Watching as a President is taken before his time,

Paying respects in a long and somber funeral procession line.

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The brownstone’s broad eyes did shed tortured tears,

As a people came to terms with an unsure nations fears.

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Ducking behind window boxes from the riots we did hide,

From tear gas and protesters we kept our children safe inside.

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Then there’s the hell of this little place Vietnam,

Over 58.000 lost never to return home.

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To this day we don’t know what it all was all for,

A chapter we’d prefer to lock behind a locked door.

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Then cries for peace and love in song did they roar,

Long hair, love beads and bell bottoms they adorned.

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Three days of love from a Woodstock would live on,

Though Jerry Garcia, Janis and Jimmy are now gone.

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A gas crisis, Beirut and the hostages in Iran,

Oil, our Marines and our citizens held in foreign lands.

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Then along came the Gipper to rescue us from us,

Bringing our people back without much muss or much fuss.

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The economy turned around while trickle-down became law,

Taking twenty plus years to find out there was a flaw.

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In 2001 we were brutally attacked,

By suicide bombers that should have been tracked.

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Our World Trade and Pentagon, the heroes in a Pennsylvania field,

So many had died, so many have been killed.

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In retribution and revenge we invaded Iraq,

To topple Saddam and push the Revolutionary Guard back.

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Into Afghanistan we marched as others had before,

With an uneasy partner in Islamabad and Lahore.

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An attempt to democratize third-world tribes,

Costing our mothers their sons and daughters sacred lives.

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Osama Bin Laden is dead at the hands of the Seals,

One more terrorist down knocked back on his heals.

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All to what end I don’t think anybody truly knows,

We’ll wait for history to say, to see how it goes.

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Our economies in turmoil, our politics a disaster,

Compromise and diplomacy no longer can they master.

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Fiscal cliffs and debt ceilings in our sights looming large,

It’s hard to tell if anyone in D. C. is in charge.

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Where we go from here is anyone’s guess,

Raise a glass and make a toast and hope for the best.

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Our past world glories seem far and away,

As we long for that time to be ushered in today.

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Our yesteryear’s are pocked with our failures and successes,

Hoping cooler heads prevail and our virtues to protect us .

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O’ the good and bad this old brownstone must have seen,

The lessons taught through history, I’m hoping we did glean.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

In Memorial – A Tanka

Barbecues and beer

Welcoming a new summer

We’ve lost it’s meaning

Those who have died…forgotten

Gone is the memorial

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Casual Observers

Are we not all but casual observers

This game…though not such a game that governments play

What is it they do not tell us in the name of our own good

Who are they to decide what serves us best

Are these not our lives, our futures, our hopes, our dreams

They toy with these for their own folly

For the sake of national pride we label others as evil

Without looking within at our own flaws

Puffing chests, bellicose, with an arrogance befitting fools

Answering tit-for-tat with ever greater threats of destruction

This chain of ceaseless violence, when will it subside

Years of pain, years of suffering have taken their toll on this weary nation

I ask, what have we won, show me…show us

Do we need another war, more bloodshed of the innocent,

Further sacrifices by our brave men and women delivered as pawns

for subversive economic gain

Isn’t it time to seek peace after so much loss

And break this cycle of violence.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

A Decade Of War

A decade of war

Life draining on this nation

When will it all end

Our citizens sacrificed

Precious resources squandered

To what victory

How do we define success

Against painful loss

Our wars produce no winners

Without a clear enemy

All gains will revert

When finally we depart

Chaos ensuing

As is always the result

In the absence of brute force

When ideals are forced

Democracy imposed

Only breeds contempt

When masses are unprepared

For freedoms sacrifices

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

The Hands

I remember the hands,

Dark, calloused, weathered,

Like the old leather of my hand-me-down Buster Brown’s.

Skin the shade of olive;

Disfavored for their Napolitan roots,

Unafraid of hard work,

Unrepentant for the right and wrong that they’d done.

They played jacks,

Scuffled in the schoolyard,

Held the hand of their first love

All before the start of the First World War.

Trembled in fear,

Shouldered a carbine,

Took their first life,

Comforted their comrade as they passed on

During the ravages of the Second World War.

Returned home to the embrace of the wife left behind,

Prepared to resume peaceful work,

Lifting crates,

Tossing sacks

Unloading train cars,

Driving trucks

All to support a wife and newborn baby.

Cradled silently to his breast,

Calmed when she cried,

Held her hand on the first day of school

Waltzed during the father daughter dance

Clapped during graduation,

While holding two jobs to make ends meet.

Toiled never ceasing as the family grew,

Their work never eased.

Time bent and broke them making it more difficult,

But nary a complaint did they utter.

Finally age made the decision,

Putting them out to pasture,

A much needed rest ensued.

The years were kind,

Allowing them to pursue their passions,

Until clasped in prayer,

The Lord called them home.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

We Must Never Forget – A Tanka

Image Credit: theimagearsenal.com

Image Credit: theimagearsenal.com

These flag draped coffins

Returning from distant wars

We must not forget

Whether cause be right or wrong

They’re our brothers and sisters

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Shadows Loom Larger

Image Credit: nytimes.com

North Korean fence line
Image Credit: nytimes.com

Shadows loom larger

As an unsteady peace wanes.

One side posturing,

Flexing behind high fences,

Extorting the world with fear.

 Brothers and sisters,

Born of the same lineage

Cry from the sidelines

Over a 60 year old feud,

Asking…Will it ever end?

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Battle Scarred – A Tanka

Image Credit: nationalgeographic.com

Image Credit: nationalgeographic.com

Names long forgotten

Came screaming back to haunt me

As if yesterday

Friends lost on the battlefield

Turn dreams to guilty nightmares

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~