Young Men And Women Do Volunteer (Nested Landays)

Young men and women do volunteer

To fight for their country to the death, showing no fear


Their orders arrive just as they would

Off they go overseas in the hopes of doing good


Then there’s reality, oh the shock

Our core cultural values, by their ways they do rock


Women are property, used for sex

Sold to the highest bidder, the western mind perplexed


Wanting to react, but told they can’t

They turn a blind eye, though to each other they do rant


Lying in their cots, many tears shed

This war was not what they thought, they have all been misled


Romantic ideas, wars of the past

Live only in the movies there’s no way they could last


War is not romantic, kill and maim

Each victim has a mother and each face has a name


Someones left mourning, crying revenge

Seeking to draw blood, to honor loved ones they avenge


How do pray tell, will this cycle end

When it’s all about oil, our interests they pretend


After a decade, I doubt it will

The military industries haven’t had their fill


When this war ends another will come

Reasoned by our government, just watch and see their fun


Be sure and take my word, more will die

No matter how we complain, no matter how we try


As always, our young will volunteer

Believing propaganda from mongers they will hear


Gung-ho with ideals, noble ‘tis true

Witnessed in commercials they’re the brave, the proud, the few


Til God forbid the time ever comes

You gaze into their eyes, pull the trigger of the gun


From that moment on your life will change

You become a killer, a feeling that must be strange


Hoping that the reasons are pure, true

To live with such an action, the rest of your life through


Mourn for those who died and those alive

They will never be the same no matter how they strive


Mourn this generation raised with war

Think about the reasons, they are poisoned to the core


What kind of legacy will we leave

One that’s draped in death, they are constantly left to grieve


Can this end before it is too late

I pray that it can or destruction will be our fate

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


NOTE: Origination Afghanistan – a landay has only a few formal properties. Each has twenty-two syllables: nine in the first line, thirteen in the second. The poem ends with the sound “ma” or “na.” Sometimes they rhyme, but more often not. In Pashto, they lilt internally from word to word in a kind of two-line lullaby that belies the sharpness of their content, which is distinctive not only for its beauty, bawdiness, and wit, but also for the piercing ability to articulate a common truth about war, separation, homeland, grief, or love. Within these five main tropes, the couplets express a collective fury, a lament, an earthy joke, a love of home, a longing for the end of separation, a call to arms, all of which frustrate any facile image of a Pashtun woman as nothing but a mute ghost beneath a blue burqa.  The full description and some history of the form can be found at  I took some liberties with this form as it does not translate perfectly into English.  I did maintain the 9 and 13 syllables per line format, but eliminated the “ma” or “na” ending sound requirement opting instead to rhyme which can occur with this form.

Notice: Cover Art Designed Gratis

Dom DiFrancesco:

Here is an offer of cover art by a very talented artist. If you are not familiar with his work stop by his site, I think you will be quite impressed.

Originally posted on A Mirror Obscura,:

Notice: As my collage work is relatively unknown, if you are considering publishing a book of any kind and like my work I am willing to consider designing cover art  gratis with all rights reserved to myself. Just drop me a comment here on any one of my posts and we can discuss your needs. >KB

I would appreciate it if you follow me or simply stop in from time to time and enjoy my collage work, if you could take the time to re-post this notice above to get the word out. I am very interested in pursuing this but cannot do it without exposure. Thank you. >KB

View original

I Am But A Ghost (Tanka)

You reach out for me

My vessel–something to hold

But it’s illusion

You cannot touch who I am

For it is not this body


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Closed Eyes, I Breathe Deep

Closed eyes, I breathe deep

Exhaling luscious silence

Emptying my mind

Stress of the day fades away

I’m left relaxed and at peace

Is this not heaven

This place buried deep within

That no one can steal

Even this succinct moment

Can resurrect from the gloom

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Cynicism (Acrostic)

Could I be my own worst enemy,

Yearning for perfection in this world and knowing it can never be?

Nothing can satisfy me as I watch the cruelty of man,

Inflicting pain and suffering on each other,

Crimes–inexcusable by any of God’s sacred texts.

Irreverent and blasphemous fools are these

Scandalous in their deep seated hatred

Maring the kindness and love of the doctrines they so staunchly claim to defend.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Slightest Signs Of Life Show (Tanka)

Slightest signs of life show
Through blades of grass, green of stem
Call of birds, babies
Winter cannot hold them back
They are forces of nature

~~Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Looking For Escape

Looking for escape
A mass of humanity
Sports–the drug of choice
Pushed by corporate giants
We‘ll pay almost any price
An amazing site
This sea of  team wear–floating
All moving as one
Their wearers oblivious
That they are feeding the greed
At their own expense

~~Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Hands Buried In Dirt (Haiku)

Hands buried in dirt
Tilling my own little farm
Back to the basics

~~ Dominic R . DiFrancesco ~~

Fortified By Walls

Fortified by walls

Convention dictates our roles

We are blind robots

Afraid to step out of the norm

For fear of ridicule

So who wrote these rules

Some wizard behind curtains

Calling all the shots

Break the mold–just live and love

Regardless of your gender


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


It’s All I Can Do

It’s all I can do

To focus on this mortal life.

I know there is more,

That time is an invention,

Something man can comprehend.

To Realized Ones

Past, present, future are now.

This I desire,

Though it seems so far away.

I long to spend time seeking,

Looking deep inside

To find that unified place

Where God and I become one.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~



Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,596 other followers

%d bloggers like this: