Fraught With Peril This Thin Line – Rebel

Fraught with peril this thin line

    Once crossed will wither and die

Not so wide, but ever so fine

    Our elected few seem eager to try


Mad men with power where nary have tread

    Kindle the fires of conspiracy and hate

Ever so close the majority dread

    A nation’s short history left to fate


This cresipise so deep we fear to fall

    Bottomless pit will never end

Left to the tyrants this funeral pall

    To torments wrath we writhe and bend


What’s to be gained by ignorance hold

    Believing the fools venomous bite

Taking their word more precious than gold

    That is til exposed by reasons light


Hope springs eternal as the old saying goes

    May the ruinous seed be cast back to hell

Sooner or later nobody knows

    Righteousness waits the toll of the bell


This sickness not us wailed from the heart

    A cure lies ahead in the booth

Now is the time never too late to start

    The lever must suffocate their truth


Time to rebel dead ahead in our hands

    Never more urgent then now

Traitors that poison the mind and the land

    Must be buried by the blade of the plow


Rise up! Rise up! You sheepish bunch

    Stand up to the villain’s rusted sword

Truth lies before you much more than a hunch

    Trample to dust his evil hoard


If not for yourselves for your progenies sake

    Stiff your spine before time slides away

Your souls are their plunder and more they will take

    Mark these words spoken this day


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Blood Is On Their Hands

Blood is on their hands,

Again choosing to do nothing

In the wake of death.

Guns serve as the golden calf

Glorified by these heathens.


They’ve whored themselves out,

Bought by the highest bidder,

John…the N.R.A.

Instead of the people’s work

They’ve sold us out for money.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Day To Remember

Day to remember

Like so many seen lately…


Nine murders in Charleston

Changed nothing in this country.


What has to happen

To stir the minds of Congress,

Perhaps a revolt…

One that cannot be ignored

Regardless of the money!


People have value,

Trumping the death peddlers

Who profit in blood.

Now another forty nine

The next anniversary.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Another Season Approaches Fast

Another season approaches fast,

Not spring nor summer nor winter nor fall.

Storming in even quicker than the last,

Loud and obnoxious like the clarion call.


Choices are growing, with more each day,

Though one seems no better than the other.

Either red or blue what more can I say,

Neither would surely be my druther.


They care not the least for the common man,

It’s all about the silver and gold.

While we struggle on the best that we can,

They tell us what we want to be told.


This same cast of characters appears every four years,

Dressed in their Brooks Brothers suits.

Except we’ve added Hillary, a bold new frontier,

Taking her share of the loot.


Politics is messy and boring at times,

But there’s so much at stake for us all.

I know that it’s early to sound warning chimes,

Though it’s better too soon than to stall.


It’s not just the President, but local too,

It starts from the ground to the top.

Throwing up your hands saying what can I do,

That’s just how they hope you will stop.


There’s power in numbers if we all stand as one,

Big money can be beaten by the masses.

Let’s put them in their places before they’ve begun,

Stepping out from behind rose colored glasses.


This is our country no matter what they believe,

These thieves and liars and cheats.

Let us not have one more election to grieve,

By taking our demands to the streets.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~



Vultures Every One

Vultures every one, they pluck at the carcass.

Oh yes, it is dead and has been for some time,

But they choose to masquerade it in lively rhetoric.

Speaking not of how they will resuscitate the corpse

They prefer to spew bile at those they accuse of murdering it.

Solving nothing, they offer up a civics lesson as hope,

A promise of a return to days long gone by.

They know this can never be,

That we should never return to the cesspool of the past that got us here,

Still they desire with a selfish heart, to thrust this upon us.

No longer a land, by the people, of the people, for the people,

We have devolved into a country of the corporation,

By the corporation, for the corporation.

Our politicians, beholden to these behemoths disregard the people,

Believing their constituents too inept to notice.

Sadly, our elections show they are too often right.

Seats of government are filled with crazies, radicals and thieves

Looking to promote their own self-interests,

Their own delusional ideals,

The interests of those that bought their loyalty.

Their records show nothing but opposition to the other side,

No compromise, no debate, just blatant obstruction,

This they do, all the while claiming to be patriots and waving their tattered flags.

Perhaps we are as much to blame for this violent death as they.

Each vote cast inflicts another gangrenous wound on this once vibrant body.

I fear it too late for meaningful change.

Our young prefer social media and video games to interest in things political.

What the future holds is anyones guess,

But with crystal ball in hand I foretell a funeral, the body in shrouds,

No taps being played, no mourners present to pay their last respects,

They can’t because they are too busy texting and watching youtube to notice.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~



Shock Of All Shocks

Shock of all shocks!, A conclusion has arrived,

What you may ask drove me to this.

I look at this nation and its leaders that drive,

And sadly I find so much amiss.


Squabbling and indecision on the left and the right,

It’s politics at their very worst.

From top to the bottom it’s no easier a fight,

Unable to decide what to do first.


Managing from crisis to crisis is no way to proceed,

As the ball is too easily dropped.

We look to our leaders to stand up and take heed,

Of all that must be started and stopped.


From debt ceiling to healthcare, ebola, ISIS and more,

They fight each other all of the way.

Afraid am I of what may very soon be in store,

For greater horrors may come into play.


We have hearing after hearing and nothing gets done,

They are sound bites for the next campaign.

Fodder for the platform on which they will run,

With lies and aggression to inflame.


I look at the response to ebola with a smile,

This comedy of errors that it is.

The protocols, what protocols all to beguile,

What’s the answer is part of the quiz.


What do we call them–ISIS or Islamic State,

Would somebody make up their mind.

We got into this one perhaps a little too late,

Over time I am sure we will find.


In these two crisis’ congress isn’t without fault,

Ask McCain, he was friend to our foe.

Yelling arm the rebels their advance they will halt,

As always putting on quite a show.


Now congress has called a meeting, the CDC to berate,

For its failure to institute adequate tools.

It was fine leaving West Africa to suffer its fate,

Denying funding like cold hearted fools.


Messages are mixed on all things from above,

Agreeing on nothing is their way.

Failing to compromise when push comes to shove,

I suppose this is how things will stay.


So what is the conclusion from this long winded rant,

More trouble ahead is surely brewing.

Our government is broken and their solutions are scant,

I’m confident they don’t know what they are doing!


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~



Cries Come From The Hill (Tanka)

Cries come from the Hill

They’re coming to kill us all

Mystic Lindsey Graham

He doesn’t need any proof

He just reads his crystal ball


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~



Complicit Are They

Complicit are they

Brandishing their mighty swords

While crying for war

They hold the blade to our necks

Prepared to slaughter skeptics

Monsters, murderers

A mess of their creation

Denied as fiction

How short the memory is

When the Right can blame the Left


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~



With Irony I Look Back On July The Fourth

With irony I look back on July the fourth,

Commemorating separation from the British Crown.

Decrying aristocrats and their gorging worth

And the treatment of their subjects trampling down.


Open your eyes and look at us now,

Governed and judged by aristocrats galore.

Expected to beg, grovel and bow

Just as we did to King George before.


Over two hundred years we’ve learned nothing it’s clear

As again we submit to the court and its king.

Giving away what we should have held dear

For the promise of a golden ring.


This golden ring offered in hopes to divide

The right from the left I am sure

Confusing the masses with promises to provide

Answers to our problems through their cure.


But the cure is poisoned by their quest for greater wealth,

On the backs of those who can least afford.

Tricking them to believe by their dishonest stealth,

That there’s nothing but truth in their word.


Illusion and trickery is the game of the day,

Substance something long ago past.

Diverting ones blame is the partisan way,

Spewing venom as long as it lasts.


If truth does not sell then they coat it in lies,

Said long enough they’re bound to believe.

People are gullible say their political spies,

They’ll swallow whatever we conceive.


Free press is now gone in lieu of partisan hacks,

Towing their hate-filled party lines.

Convincing the audience that they’re watching their backs,

While raking in millions all the time.


With sadness I watch our republic disappear

Under the weight of corruption and greed.

Leaving the powerless amongst us I fear

To scratch and claw for all that they need.


Convinced they’re a burden and a waste of our time

Pretending that they don’t exist.

From their pit of despair alone they’re left to climb,

Should they fail it’s unlikely they’ll be missed.


America has lost the humanity it once had,

Trading it for profit and conceit.

Where helping one another was more than a fad,

It was a facet of what made us complete.


Deception is all part of the elites master plan

Pitting each man against his brother.

Feeding the masses as much fear as they can,

Blaming the cause on another.


Unless we take a stand, the ninety-nine percent,

Against the one percent we’ve allowed to rule us.

Expect nothing more than this we consent,

But to allow the bourgeois to fool us.


This my dear friends is my greatest fret,

With each and every fourth of July.

That under their thumbs, ever more we do get,

Until America shrivels up and dies.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


What Is Left Of This Experiment

What is left of this experiment

Could it be that we failed intention

Selling it to the highest bidder?

Look at us!

Brother fighting against brother,

Ideals defined by television news,

By partisan writing,

By ignorance and lack of humanity.

Not relegated to one party or another

This is but a symptom of the disease.

A plague we allowed to ferment;

Feeding venomous pustules by blindness,

Blindness to surroundings,

Blindness to the lies we’ve been fed.

Beginning many years ago,

Blamed on the latest–current ruler,

Yet it is ever so misplaced.

Each is just the latest in a long line of failures

Given to us by their parties,

Held up as a choice to the people.

Choice…ha, this is but a facade,

Leaving the people to believe that they staked claim.

This is but a belief of fools,

Those that fail to realize they are pawns,

Misled and offered the promised land,

Finding that there is nothing but hollowness.

What does it take to awaken the populous?

Will it take total collapse?

Will it take blood?

Might it take revolution?

This is our right…our obligation;

When our system fails we are called to fight,

Called to change what is broken,

Beckoned to change what is fruitless.

Perhaps we have run our course,

Made a great attempt at political perfection,

Failing over a long period of time.

Every society has suffered;

Drowning in its own pomposity,

Leaving it vulnerable to suffer its own consequences.

What will it take;

Absolute and total collapse I propose.

Imploding on our own girth,

Collapsing under our own weight,

Then being consumed by our foes.

When will will realize our fate…?

Not until we are reduced

To nothing but skin and bones.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~