Tag Archives: war

A Hero’s Welcome

Homecoming celebration November 12, 2012 Ft. Carson, Colorado Springs, Colorado

By D. R. DiFrancesco

~~~

Welcome home,

To you and the 300 like you.

~

So long gone,

So many tears and worries it drew.

~

Now you are back,

Safe and warm in your nations arms.

~

Tears of joy,

Thankful you are away from terrors harm.

~

You left a boy,

But came back as a man.

~

Proud and strong,

A country grateful that you took a stand.

~

You’ve given freely,

Putting your life in harm’s way.

~

A willing volunteer,

On guard and ready to save the day.

~

You are a soldier,

Out of sight, but not out of mind.

~

We welcome you home,

With open arms, warm and wide and kind.

~

You are our son,

A mother and father’s pride and joy.

~

Grown into a hero,

No more a little boy.

In honor of our son’s return from a 9 month deployment in Afghanistan on November 12, 2012.  Welcome home son, we are so proud of you.  

Please remember those brave men and women proudly serving our nation and give thanks that they have volunteered to protect us.

Their Call to Arms

By D. R. DiFrancesco

In irony and ignorance you call for war,
This, your answer to everything,
The conflicts we are in, we ask you what for,
While young men and women are daily dying.

For better or worse you are angrily passing,
Giving hope to those of us left behind,
You claw and you scratch with teeth you are gnashing,
Leaving bones and a legacy time will grind.

Our world is changing, but you refuse to see,
Guns and bombs are not the resolution,
Compassion and dialogue, the answer must be,
Death and destruction are not the solution.

To this you cry weak and unpatriotic,
You betray the American way,
These musings you suffer are scrambled and psychotic,
Traitorous if we don’t obey.

Your incessant call to arms is antiquated and outdated,
Straining relations, feeding global hatred,
The logic of your arguments are often debated,
Among those who hold the value of life sacred.

Your visions and violence are in the minority,
Still you cling to your dictatorial views,
The lambs they follow your odious seniority,
Instead of exercising their right to choose.

Would not diplomacy and friendship be a better choice,
Offering guidance and respect instead of demands,
Band together with one mind and a united voice,
Lending credence to cooler heads and calmer hands.

Forgotten Warriors

Rock covered armored vehicle
Afghanistan
Children and adult villages pelt
the vehicles with rocks as they pass

By D. R. DiFrancesco

I don’t pretend to know the feelings of war,

I’ve never served,

Instead living the joy and sorrow,

Loneliness and homesickness through my son.

 

Here I sit in my easy chair,

TV tuned to CNN,

Disgusted that there is no coverage,

Do they even remember we are at war?

 

I remember every waking hour of the day,

Passing my sons empty room,

Left as a constant reminder that he’s far from home,

Living in squalor, among Camel Spiders and Taliban.

 

He wrote,

Finally I realize…

Everything here wants to kill us,

My eyes welled up with tears.

 

He’s his own man now,

No longer can his mother and I protect him,

Our trust must be placed in his training,

Relying on his bravery and strength.

 

This makes it no easier,

Weeks pass with no word,

Sadness and worry are all consuming,

Struggling to maintain sanity.

 

Then a brief call or message online,

All is well, could you send me a few things,

I need new boots, snacks, vitamins,

My God its hot here.

 

For just a few moments there is happiness,

Content that for now he is safe,

Then he is gone again,

No word for weeks.

 

Sitting in my easy chair,

Still no coverage on TV,

Certain that they have forgotten.

Praying for the next call.

 

Don’t worry,

I’m safe and doing well.

 

PLEASE DON”T FORGET OUR BRAVE MEN AND WOMEN SERVING IN AFGHANISTAN

OR ELSEWHERE AROUND THE WORLD

Independence Day, A Day to Remember – (A Poem)

The smell of powder,

Clouds of smoke sting the eyes,

Tearing, trying to see beyond the fence line,

Nauseating odor of sulfur offends the senses.

Screams!

Blood curdling screams!

Pierce the sound of canon fire,

Tattered flags wave wearily above the shouts,

The cocking of flint locks magnified by thousands,

Fire!

Deafening explosions,

The buzz of lead fills the air,

Surreal as comrades fall,

The sting of the cold,

Numbs as we move forward.

Snow covered fields no longer virgin,

Crimson corrupts the purity,

Flowing like rivers from the lifeless,

Moans echo through the trees.

Corpses, limbs, appendages litter the plain,

The stench of death!

Repulsive!

Time to reload,

Focus or die,

No time for regrets,

This is a cause far greater than ourselves,

Fire! the General’s call

Sabre raised overhead as the stallion rears

He is gone!

His station irrelevant,

War plays no favorites,

Blood flowing warm and freezing,

Staining the newly fallen snow.

We must carry on,

No time to mourn,

Remember why we are here.

Remember how we got to this place.

History, our history,

Freedom,

Independence,

For the birth of a nation!

America!

Born on the Forth of July!

Those Left At Home

By D. DiFrancesco

Are they ok?
Where are they?
Questions asked daily by parents of children
But they aren’t really children any more
Only to us.

A letter home
The occasional telephone call
Pictures and postcards
Somehow it isn’t enough to quell the fears
While serving in a land so far away.

We can’t hold them
We can’t advise them
We can’t comfort them
All we can do is worry about them
So Many more questions than answers.

The military says they will take care of them
They say they will try to bring them home safe
“Try” doesn’t make this any easier
But they can’t make such promises
No one can see into the future.

Parcels are sent regardless of cost
Trying to provide some comfort to them
Little things to remind them of home
A little thing to make us feel useful
Yet it doesn’t change anything.

This is what they chose to do
We swell with pride at the thought
We fly our flags and display our yellow ribbons
Small signs to the rest of the world of the their sacrifice
And our sacrifice.

They are a gift
Given to all of us to cherish
They pay the price for our freedom
They weren’t asked to, they weren’t told to
They give because it is their destiny.

Remember these heros in your prayers
Because you know them or someone like them
And because they deserve it and have earned it
This is the very least we can do
Don’t let their sacrifices be for naught.

The telephone rings
Our hearts skip a beat
Hello, is answered with an endless silence
Angst gives way to elation
Hi…Mom…Dad, its me.

Soldiers Lament

By: D. DiFrancesco

Its warm and quite now
Oceans of tan and brown fade to black
I close my eyes but sleep seems to elude me
They don’t want us here.

Dawn arrives with a boom!
Haze clouds my vision
Restless sleep proves no reward
They don’t want us here.

Boots hit the ground!
Dust flies almost blinding
The sounds of yelling and running feet fill my ears
They don’t want us here.

Shouts of mount up, split the air.
Iron horses within we ride
Cloud thick dirt becomes the air I breathe
They don’t want us here.

Spider cracks, mirrors shattered
Rocks not stones thown with reckless abandon
Duck for cover out of natural reflex
They don’t want us here.

We’re here to help.
Superiors echo, they tow the company line
Calls for retribution go unanswered
They don’t want us here.

Menacing children their parents aware
Deference expected at all costs
Villages many, quietude evades
They don’t want us here.

Back to drab structures we call home.
Rest and repair awaits
Animosity subsides with works resumption
They don’t want us here.

Supplanting shattered glass
A ritual most repeated
For tomorrow will reinact this dual of wills
They don’t want us here.

To whom do we owe this greatest of honors?
A chance to die for what end
The new day replays the deadliest of dances
They don’t want us here.

With a final salvo its time for slumber
Wash the Afghan filth from a body that aches
Dawn’s break is right around the corner
They still don’t want us here.