We Have Regressed

We have regressed.

What little progress we’ve made

Has been erased by hatred

And fools thrashing for power.

 

Watch the news,

See and hear the racist tools

Drooling over every word

Spewed by their xenophobic christ.

He has no answers,

He has no substance,

Yet they follow blindly

Like fairytale mice.

 

There is danger in words

Stoked by the fire of ego.

We are told to be afraid…

That threats loom in the shadows,

But this peril does not come from people of color,

Or Muslims,

Or gays;

No, the greatest danger

Comes from within.

 

McCarthy must be smiling from the grave

As his new disciple takes the stage.

From Hell surely he must be pleased.

 

God help us all.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Feeding On Our Fears

Feeding on our fears,

Our bones ripe for the picking,

Vultures every one.

Everyday a new horror

New people, places and things.

 

You must be gifted

WIth visions of the future

At your fingertips.

Can you sense the sarcasm

Dripping from each written word?

 

With an artist’s flare

You paint the grimmest picture

Of Hell here on earth

Done just for your benefit

And this nation’s war machine.

 

With impure motives

Your aim is not to protect

It is to profit,

Using blood as currency

To swell your coffers.

 

Now I must ask you

With sincere undue respect…

Define terrorist!

Not exclusive to Islam

So…if the shoe fits wear it.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Fearmongers Abound

Fearmongers abound

Ebola, ISIS, healthcare

Scaring the masses

Nothing more than politics

Spread by corrupt media

“Fair and Balanced”, ha!

They all have an agenda

Manipulation

Not to report and inform

But to divide and conquer


~~ 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 ~~

 

Please Tell Me

Please tell me….

What does it look like to win?

Ideology can’t be defeated on the battlefield,

No matter how you try you can’t kill it.

You can kill its adherents,

Destroying the body, but their hate lives on.

Containment is decried as weak,

Nothing short of all out war satisfies the hawks,

Annihilation of everyone and everything their only answer.

So then, please tell me…

What does the enemy look like?

Muslim?

Dark skinned?

Light skinned?

Man?

Woman?

Child?

Young?

Old?

Sounds like the faces of the innocent and the guilty.

Can you please tell me…

How will you know your foe?

They will not come at you waving a flag.

They will not march upon your positions in perfect high-step.

They will not be clothed in matching uniforms,

Blaring their trumpets and saluting.

So tell me again…

Who is the enemy?

The farmer?

The shopkeeper?

The mechanic?

The soldier?

The school teacher?

The Imam?

The mother?

The father?

The child?

Would you have us kill every living thing just to make your point?

You rhetoric says that you would!

Someone please tell me…

What does it look like to win?

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~