100 Word Story: The Alley

The torturous heat and putrid stagnant air was eerie and sickening as I cut through the alley.  The smell of rotting garbage carried by steam emitted from god-knows-where had me second-guessing my choice of shortcuts.  

Halfway through my journey the sound of a shrieking cat and the tipping of a trash can startled my nerves…I jumped.  Spinning around I caught a fast moving shadow streak across the alley.  

I had enough I thought, turning and running for my life back to the relative safety of the crowded thoroughfare. Saving a few seconds travel certainly isn’t worth risking it all.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

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Shadowy Creatures

Shadowy creatures

Thrive in absolute darkness,

What is it they seek?

Are they feasting on my fears

Or do they desire blood?

 

Real or imagined

They torture me just the same.

This…my illusion

Has become reality,

Whether I like it or not.

 

The mind truly can

Be such a terrible thing…

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

The Sounds of Nature

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The sounds of nature

Ominous in the darkness

Fear of the unknown

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Imagination

Imagination is…

 

Inspiration for the painter’s brush,

Muse for the writer’s quill,

Angst for the actor’s role,

Gas for the engine of invention,

Irreverence to the twisted of mind,

Nuance for the singers song,

Ability for those challenged,

Tenacity in the hearts of the weak,

Ingenuity in the hands of the creative,

Omniscience in the eyes of the faithful,

Nobility in the lives of the insignificant,

 

…And so much more.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Incredible Is This Gift (Acrostic)

Incredible is this gift given to the homosapien

Man’s God-given ability to dream

Allowing the subconscious to come to the forefront

Giving the illusion of reality

Ingrained so deeply yet out of our control

Natural as breathing or the beat of our hearts

And yet it is overlooked and treated as fancy

Tilled into the earth, buried for eternity

Isn’t it strange how the mind plays its games

Omnipotent in its ability to set lifes stage

Ne’er leaving a trace when exposed to the light of day

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

The Charm and The Grace of this Medieval Town

The Village On The Hill By Mary Stubberfield

The Village On The Hill By Mary Stubberfield
Prompt by Jeremy Farmer – Jeremy’s Daily Challenge
Picture This Monday 13 January

The charm and the grace of this medieval town,

This village on the hill from fairy tales I’ve found.

My imagination consumes me actively running wild,

I make-believe this is my world, dreaming like a child.

A coffee in the square at a quaint little cafe’,

Shopping and bartering, children at school and play.

The smell of bread baking from the house on the right,

The sound of babies crying as they go to sleep at night.

The hustle and bustle of commuters heading home,

Reuniting with loved ones who’ve spent all day alone.

A kiss on the cheek and a warm and loving embrace,

They sit down to dinner in their pleasant usual place.

Perhaps a night in or an evening on the town,

Spreading out a blanket over the cool and grassy ground.

Staring at the stars in the moonlit summer sky,

The young fall in love as shooting stars go by.

These things that I see in this village on the hill,

Are just my imagination, my mind with pleasure fill.

It sounds so charming, this town from time of old,

With beauty much more precious than diamonds or of gold.

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 .

Prompt by Jeremy’s Daily Challenge – Picture This Monday 13 January

Who Was I Before I Was Me

Who was I before I was me?

I see myself out-of-body,

Living events not of my time.

I am watching myself from behind

A small boy staring at a black and white TV, all alone.

President Kennedy has been pronounced dead,

I have seen this vision for as long as I can remember,

Seven months before my birth.

Deja-vu…maybe,

It seems so real–it seems like yesterday.

Perhaps a figment of my imagination

Or perhaps a fragment of a past life;

A crossover from another time..

There is so much I don’t understand,

So much that can’t be disproven with science

I sense that I am far older than my calendar years

Though how much I do not know.

Hence my neverending question persists…

Who I was before I was me?

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Simpler Time

To lay in the tall grass

Soaking up summer sun,

I recall a time so much simpler than today,

Carefree, up at dawn, out, exploring,

Seeking out new worlds, new adventures.

Calls for lunch went unheeded,

There just wasn’t the time.

Mother knew, mother always knew

This was part of the plan.

Friends and imagination consumed,

My world for the taking,

King, conqueror, soldier

How I long for those days.

Today kings become tyrants,

Conquerors commit genocide

And soldiers really die.

Games of youth were just silly fun,

There were no consequences,

There was no death, no tyranny.

At the end of the day we’d shake hands,

Smile and run home for dinner,

Dreaming of tomorrow,

Dreaming of our next conquest

From the safety of our beds.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~