Tag Archives: wolf

Ember And Wolf

Embers waft skyward

Like a million tiny suns.

Free to travel ,

Going where the wind takes them,

Caring not where they land

Nor what the future holds.

Their time is now,

Today is all there is

As spark turns to ash.

.

Wolf, drinks and hunts

Taking only what he needs.

Caring for the survival of the pack;

Not one bit more does he consume.

Living for today,

Feeding their future,

As it has always been,

As it will always be,

Until flesh turns to bone.

.

Man the hoarder,

Eats and drinks to excess.

Gorging himself,

Engaged to the point of gluttony,

Feasting on food and goods

As if life were an eternity.

Living for today,

Collecting for tomorrow,

Denying his mortal end.

.

Simple ember,

Lowly wolf,

Live by their design

Within the boundary of nature.

Man exploits all that he’s been given,

Accepting what he needs

Then grabbing what he wants,

Leaving nothing

For the ember and the wolf.

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Promises Break

Promises break like straw under foot,

Brittle, bending, crumbling under slightest weight,

No longer bound to man’s word.

Instead they are simply words of convenience,

Placating the concerned,

Enveloping those amongst the unconvinced.

Like sheep are these believers,

Led about by their staff laden necks,

Given sustenance just to hush their words.

No longer is honor a cornerstone,

A pillar of trust, as valued as a kings ransom,

Degraded, they are nothing but syllables, hollow and meaningless.

Yes, they may be voiced with a smile,

A handshake if the orator is so moved,

Yet sadly these have become standard props for their theatrics.

When did this happen,

When did the worth of a man become worthless,

When did men cower to pretense?

Maybe always, maybe of recent past, maybe today,

Knowing they are played like the strings of a mandolin,

But unable to reconcile their buffoonery.

One day the blinders may be lifted from impaired eyes,

Revealing the wolf cloaked in statesmen’s fashion,

Only then might shame resurrect us.

~

~~ 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.

Desolate Beauty

By D. DiFrancesco

 

Pale blue cloudless skies

God’s of granite rise to meet it

Hawks and buzzards scream their cries

Parched and cracking earth crumbles bit by bit.

 

Yet life does thrive in this barren wasteland

Angry flora and fauna its solemn masters

Brown and tan the palette at hand

Landscape the pupil, sun the headmaster.

 

Cliff dwellings and hieroglyphs call home this domain

Once proud inhabitants have faded and gone

Arachnids and echoes are all that remain

Of an era that is all but bygone.

 

Still man insists on taming the unattainable

Its lifeblood rerouted and dammed

For cities and towns, its inhabitants expendable

The resultant effects unplanned.

 

Yet with all the scrub and cactus and scorpion

Its peace and beauty abound

The mountains and valleys elicit euphoria

No greater gift can be found.

 

Try as we might to alter its reality

The eagle keeps watch over this land

Man and machine try to prove natures frailty

But nature does refuse their demand.

 

As the celestial heat wave succumbs to twilight

Nocturnal denizens hiss and bay

Under constellations hunters commence the fight

For the strong to live another day.

 

With each days pass the circle unbroken

The animal and land meld into one

Of mountains and desert, lore has been spoken

In God’s own will be done.