A Mother’s Tears – A Haiku

Image Credit: youthvoices.net

Image Credit: youthvoices.net

Another one gone

A mother’s tears for her son

Shot dead in the night

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~


The Road Home

Stove burners blue flame

Dangerous heat

Warming frigid trembling hands

Radiator cold

Rent control all he can afford

Children absent and estranged

He’s invisible in this world

Old friends to the old man gone

Passed before his time

Rotary telephone shows its age

Symbiotically keeping pace

Silent and out-of-date

Thoughts of youth flutter

Flashbacks in his fragmenting mind

Remembrances of companions

Lost loves

And a wife

Still 20 to him,

After a lonely decade adrift

Living because he won’t die

He longs to sleep forever

But it is not God’s will

Not his time

Shuffling to the stove

He warms his trembling hands

To wait for meals-on-wheels

Or the Lord to take him home


~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~


Hidden Legacy

I hold no ill will toward you,

As so many years have passed,

Softening the blows,

Physical and figurative,

Mending the wake of destruction,

Which you so callously sowed,

With the passing of each scarred soul,

The shameful becomes legend,

Stories told…perhaps exaggerated,

By progeny twice or more removed,

Your only legacy,

Undeserving of even this remembrance,

You’ve blackened our name,

Are we to forgive you,

That is for God to judge,

Are we to pity ourselves,

No…for we are stronger than you knew,

With sadness we look back,

Cursing your existence,

Mourning your departure,

Loving you as father,

Despising you as man.


~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Family Honor

Two star struck lovers bequeathed to the night,

Passion, deceit for to hide out of sight.

She…questionable virtue…from the wrong side of the tracks,

Parental displeasure of refinement she lacks.

Refinement nor virtue does fail to impart,

For love…it does blind in matters of the heart.

Inconsolable his father takes matters to hand,

This tryst must dissolve on this he demands.

Honor of family trumps sanctity of life,

She must be parlayed before he takes her his wife.

So twisted was his mind he could scarcely think clear,

The evil he did plot against his son held so dear.

Blackness in his heart…the tramp won’t be missed,

When…how…on the table pound his fist!

Finally he takes her, it matters not from where,

Kicking and screaming he has her by the hair.

Raging and seething to the lake they did go,

Softness of ground, so much easier to sow.

She fought for her life, to the end no avail,

Fate she did meet by his father…did impale.

Twisted face…drove the father to remorse,

For the good of the family, I must stay the course.

Sweat pouring down, the hole he did dig,

Shovel like a flash moving dirt, leaf and twig.

Body limp and lifeless, a dirty silent face,

Angelic in its beauty he laid her into place.

What have I done as each shovel flew,

Too late it was now there is nothing more to do.

Vial task now complete, heavy heart he did carry,

Back to his home…no one more the wary.

Son perplexed by absence, he couldn’t help but worry,

Where might she have gone, without trace, in a hurry.

For days upon end decline did his mood,

Nary desire for sleep, for water or for food.

His father stood watch as his son’s life did languish,

Conscience torn asunder he succumbed to his anguish.

Little time did it take for the boys light to fade,

Result of the father’s despondent bed that he made.

He buried his boy not long after this,

Family collapsed he was so sorely missed.

The father, for all his attempts to defend,

Suffered his sin, one he could never mend.

He passed like his son fairly soon thereafter,

Life spun out of control an irreparable disaster.

Hell most surely laid out it’s red carpet for him,

The Devil delighting in this most thoughtless of whims.

For all his grandiose and pompous plans he did draw,

He lost his family, his son, his life and beautiful daughter-in-law.


~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Making of a Man

By D. R. DiFrancesco


You embody courage,

Something I never truly had,

Setting foot into uncharted waters,

Leaving the familiar behind,

Jumping headlong into another world.


You embody honor,

Something that I couldn’t teach you,

Living by a code,

One that must have been etched in your soul,

Immortalizing those that came before you,


You embody faith,

Something I should have instilled in you,

But I was not strong enough,

Yet you epitomize it in spite of me,

By entrusting your life to those around you.


You embody integrity,

Something I never knew how to give,

Still it was born into you,

A birthright gifted to those most deserving,

To be shared with those most in need.


You embody love,

Something I was never good at showing,

Your compassion and sensitivity,

Given freely to those in want,

From a heart that’s kind.


You embody all of these things,

Something I could never do,

Courage, honor, faith, integrity and love,

They made you the man you are,

And readies you for the man you will become.


Do not condemn me,

For I am tainted by nature,

Flawed at conception,

Made in the image of our maker,

In image only,

Beautifully imperfect,




Shortcomings that make me human,

I cannot obsess over that which I cannot change,

So instead I must find happiness amidst my frailty,

Content that I been the best…






I could be.

For the Love of Money (A Poem)

Do we know what heavens lie
Beyond those which we create for ourselves
Toiling to caress all that mortal wealth can acquire
Pushing aside that which is more precious.

Forage on with meaningless tasks if you must
Avoiding those to be held so dear
Putting distance between you and your loving child
For fortune and fame so fleeting.

You treasure that which lasts so briefly
Misguided steps divert your moral path
Placing that which is corporeal above what is sacred
Leaving family and friendships to suffer and drown.

Set opulence and copiousness in their proper place
Share abundance with those living in stark scarcity
Rekindle your union to spouse and child
For nothing in this world can be taken with you.


What to do

None of this comes naturally

Watching, waiting, trying to define our place

Feeling silly because we are utterly clueless

The discomfort, yours is ours

It”s impossible for us to  know what it feels like

It isn’t in our make up

Your sickness comes, but passes quickly

Still we can’t fully understand it

In return, sympathy is all we have to offer

This act comes so freely to you

Like a character in a stage show

You were born into it

While we feel like outsiders

But yet we wouldn’t have it any other way

Each step is a new adventure to us

We anticipate your homecoming

Since we were there at the start

Your blood is our blood

You are part of us just as we are part of you

A bond that nothing can ever break

We will grow together

Learning as we go

You are ours

Your mother the master

We, the apprentice

Yet this is how it is meant to be

This is how it has always been




Nothing can change our feelings for you


Piety and Hypocrisy

Father, Savior, Lord, Jehovah

Faith in the unknown

The eternal struggle never ceasing, never compromising

What to believe, that is the question.

Eons pass, bloodshed abounds

Differences mediated through conflict

Crusade or Jihad, neither is virtuous.

Blinded by rightousness, no one can see

Their lives spent and lost in pursuit of utopia

Yet contentment in this moment is never realized.

Is this the end to which the righteous aspire?

They gather in the name of peace

Projecting their false tolerance

A show…insincere in all its pageantry.

Beneath the surface bubbles hatred and hostility

Vowing to disencumber this world of the other

While smiling and greeting with a warm embrace.

Is this what the supreme being wants from us?

Are differing opinions to be snuffed out?

Our traditions say yes with a deafening roar.

Are not love and charity mightier than the sword?

More palettable then pain and suffering

To say yea would be only logical.

Still man endeavors to distort the infalable word

All for his own selfish devices

Leading the unquestioning flock to slaughter

Mindless and oblivious they follow their master.

To petition for truth, is construed as heresy

Faith the only path to eternal salvation

Yet acrimony toward our neighbors persists.

Does prejudice or averice have any authority to prevail?

An emphatic no should be the only a reply

If common decency were the essence of all relations

Peace and harmony would be all that exist.