Stench Of Urine

Stench of urine,

Cardboard shacks,

Shopping carts,

Tattered clothes,

Hand-me-downs from the dumpster I suppose.

 

Rummaging through waste baskets,

Feasting on tainted food scraps,

Hiding in the shadows,

Sleeping on steam grates,

Misused,

Abused,

Something less than human.

 

Left for dead in the cold,

Filth in the form of flesh and blood,

But have you ever looked into their eyes,

Heard their hearts beat,

Seen them cry,

Gasp for their final breath?

 

I’m sure you haven’t

As you stepped over their broken bodies,

Avoiding them like the plague,

Chuckling at their despair,

On your way to your comfortable life.

 

Can’t you take a moment to lend a hand,

A little food,

A little shelter,

A bit of cash,

Instead of treating them like lepers,

Feeding off teets of the man..

 

You don’t know them,

You don’t know their stories,

Their hardships,

Their tragedies,

But you should…

They are our brothers and sister after all.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

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Knowing Right And Wrong (Tanka)

Knowing right and wrong

We blame it on upbringing

Wooden switch draws blood

He’s just a child of four

How terrible could he be

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Theater Of Life

Naked and raw
Blasting from the womb like a seedling from its pod
Screaming for the first breath
So begins the amazing campaign
A politician elected to life.

Born out of love or lust
The aftermath which is indistinguishable
Unquenchable contest for sustenance
To triumph is all that is known
Primal urges the impetus to persist.

Adolescence brings arrogance
As maturity is sluggish to prevail over unrefined emotion
Enmity and dispute become commonplace
Tightening the reins like those of an untamed mustang
Welcome, right of passage.

Time quells obstinacy
While Respect replaces contempt
Competition for dominance is no longer primary
Instead wisdom is honored rather than detested
Seeing in age what we hope to become.

Understanding seems second nature
Now seen through the eyes of the aged
What once so obscure, is now clear as crystal
Modeled in the image of those that came before
To live in us as both a blessing and curse.

Son becomes father, daughter becomes mother
The circle enclosed as adolescent morphs into elder
Kindred souls flow like a river never-ceasing
Reproducing life through life’s rushing waters
Simply actors are we in this great play.

Leaving behind those we’ve reared
Progeny that embody what is transcendent
Nature and happenstance will dictate their course
While predecessors move on to nights last voyage
Rhythmically repeating the cycle of life.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Author’s Note: This was the very first poem that I posted on WordPress back on June 30, 2012.  I haven’t read this poem in a very long time and fortunately I still like it.  I thought it might be nice to sprinkle a few pieces into the mix that many of you may not have seen.  I hope that you like them.  Thank you all for the long time support that you have shown me, I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.

The Smell Of Baked Bread

The smell of baked bread

Like perfume of memory

Grandma at the stove

O’ how joyful was childhood

When things were much simpler

Adulthood does dull

Senses fade to the background

Turning cynical

Happiness replaced by stress

O’ how soon we do forget

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Echoes Of Laughter

Echoes of laughter

Smiling faces of children

–Innocence at play

Sights, sounds of another time

When being a kid was cool

The cries of hunger

Tears streaming down sunken cheeks

–Modern travesty

While the rich still get richer

Children starve for no reason

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

O’ My Youngest One

O’ my youngest one

Do not give up on your dreams

They are yours alone

Others may think they know best

Even I am not immune

Done without malice

My intentions are most pure

Though I am human

Dare to dream my precious child

This is where greatness is born

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

#BringBackOurGirls (Acrostic)

Blinded by time as we always are,

Resolved to forget the distasteful,

Ignoring that which is too painful,

No amount of justification is acceptable for this behavior.

Gathering around Beyonce, JayZ and Solange…is this news?

 

Bling and elevator drama are these really important?

Anger and outrage should be the response;

Children, our future–that is what’s important!

Kidnappers, inhuman animals, they should be our news.

 

Our mission, yours and mine.

Undermining peace through fear

Revealing their true selves…they are cowards and thugs.

 

Getting these girls back should be our only focus;

Innocence demands it!

Regaining focus, putting the frivolous aside, this is our human mission.

Let us unite as one world regardless of race, creed or color and

Stop those that prey on the innocent, the helpless, OUR CHILDREN!

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Author’s Note:  I wrote this piece because I am troubled with how quickly the story of the kidnapped school girls in Nigeria has dropped from the headlines of our major media outlets, at least here in the United States.  Instead we have replaced it, once again, with “celebrity” nonsense stories that have no importance to anyone except for the voyeurs out there.   Only by keeping these children in the forefront of our hearts and minds can we ever hope to muster the worldwide resources necessary to bring them home and affect some permanent change in the attitudes of those that I don’t consider civilized.

Some Say It Is A Window Into The Soul

Some say it is a window into the soul,

But me…well, I don’t know

I run, I jump, I laugh and cajole

As though I’m putting on a show.

 

The youth in me knows not this bodies age,

Ignoring the aches and the pains.

Like a Mad Hatter on the Phantoms stage,

Tossing aside my horses reins.

 

Playing in the grass, flying kites high in the sky,

Living for just having fun.

Juvenile maybe, lets just say that I try,

Hoping for much longer from where I’d begun.

 

This is how I choose to live a fairytale life,

One of fullness, prosperity and joy.

Living without the stress and the mind numbing strife,

That so many chose to employ.

 

Then a look in the mirror reveals an inevitable truth,

That no one can run from their age.

Bags and wrinkles are not things of one’s youth,

As each year turns the next page.

 

In my minds eye I’m still the same person I was

O’ those many years gone by.

Only the blind would be ignorant of the cause,

No matter how hard they may try.

 

So the moral to this story is one I believe

To live in happiness and in peace.

Keep the child in your heart, never to cleave,

And your elation will surely increase.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Fairytale Prompt #7