The Sound Of Taps

The sound of Taps, the saddest song

It rings within my ears

A song without a single word

Can bring these eyes to tears

 

This solemn song too often played

Remembered on this day in May

The sacrifice of souls so brave

They’d have it no other way

 

Freedom fought so hard the cost

Enjoyed by all today

Taken for granted far too oft

WIth beer and barbeque and play

 

Take the time to say your thanks

Out of respect for those who gave

May the thankful close their ranks

Laying flowers upon their graves

 

A simple thanks I offer with heart

For a son who served with pride

To mothers and fathers of fallen souls

I’m thankful that mine is alive

 

No greater the tragedy remembered this day

Than the loss of a child or parent

I’ll never forget their ultimate sacrifice

Though their deaths are found so abhorrent

 

This simple poem is all I can give

To express to all how I feel

I thank you, we thank you from the heart

Just know that our pain is for real

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

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Awash In The Swamp

Awash in the swamp, he’d supposed to drain

His promises proved lies now shown;

Oligarchs and thieves fall down as the rain

Your hopes and your dreams turned to stone.

 

We told you, we told you not to believe

This carnival barker cloaked in Versace;

Give it some time as I’m certain you’ll grieve

With your tears as they spoil your latte.

 

Prepare for the change that will turn back our time

To an age where our rights had no rights;

It’s you that will suffer for your ignorant crime

My greatest hopes’ that you lose sleep at night,

 

You’ve sold out our country with no care for her souls and left it in the hands of a jackal.

I hope you are happy as he rakes us o’er the coals while he and his ilk writhe and cackle.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Cross Fruited Plains The Wind Doth Blow

Cross fruited plains the wind doth blow

Though it seems we’ve lost our way.

When it will stop no one can know,

But it’s unlikely on that November day.

 

Our founders could not have foreseen the show

We see all around the clock.

Trump and Clinton round and round they go

For neither election’s a lock.

 

For one the issues seem no value to hold,

The other is wonky and stiff.

The first is cocky or so he’s been told,

Second each victory’s a gift

 

What have we done to get to this point, I really don’t know what to say.

This election is one that’s sure to disappoint, for the ones that don’t get their way.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Cadavers Are Strewn

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Cadavers are strewn

Mutilated in his wake

And then there was one

Reality TV star

Chosen to lead our nation

A nation of fools

Lost in their own arrogance

We’re so gullible

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Our Collective Soul

Our collective soul

Lies buried in the rubble

Of hate, greed and lies.

 

One day we will rise from ash

Like the fiery Phoenix.

 

Enlightened, wiser,

Perhaps we will see we’re one,

Made of flesh and bone.

 

How sad that we must suffer

Before we open our eyes.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Repent

Repent!

There is no repentance,

There is no civility only cruelty.

The cud we chew is our own

Regurgitated repeatedly

Until even we believe the vile spew.

This once great nation has become caustic

Poisoning the lifeblood of its citizens.

O’ how embarrassed I am

To be counted amongst you.

What we viewed as progress

Proved to be nothing but a facade.

The world sees us

Just as ugly as our past portrays.

We fool no one with our mask;

Smiling with our hand outstretched in friendship

Whilst clutching a dagger behind our backs.

Then, with great surprise, things turn sour!

We gasp in horror at the cruelty of our adversaries,

Castigating those we exploit.

In denial we consider ourselves blameless

Arrogantly condemning our victims.

Their hatred runs deep and their memories are long.

As we learn not from our mistakes,

Repeated over and over we achieve the same result,

Setting ablaze modern day Rome,

And leaving its citizens to flee in horror.

 
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Look Under Rock and in Darkened Cave

Look under rock and in darkened cave,

Delve into nightmares your wakings enslaved.

 

Tell me O’ tell me what is it you fear

In each thing you see and each that you hear.

 

News of invasion and hordes stoke your fire,

Of conspiracy theories you never do tire.

 

Immigrants scare you though ancestors were one

You hide behind barricades with knife and with gun.

 

In each person of color is seen a terrorist’s face

Afraid they will conquer your white Christian place.

 

How sad it is to live with terror neverending,

An old way of life you are always defending.

 

Change is but natural and always has been

And not loving they neighbor…well that’s still one of God’s sins.

 

~~ 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 ~~

Lindsey Graham

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Little man

Inspiring fear,

Nostradamus of the Senate.

Do you see into the future?

Selling your snake oil to the masses

Even you can’t believe your own spiel,

Yammering on about how tough you are.

 

Give up already,

Recycled warmongering is getting old.

Aren’t you exhausted,

Haven’t your policies done enough damage?

America should be a beacon of peace not of violence.

Maybe it’s time for you to go.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Do You See the Sloth in Slumber

Do you see the sloth in slumber

Ever exhausted in his laziness?

The world passes by;

His life and circumstances change

Right before his eyes, but he cares not.

His food becomes tainted by poison and profit,

His means of survival gets cut down from under him,

Yet these do not prod him to action.

Those charged with his care seek to destroy him.

They smile and whisper in their deceitful hushed tones

Then with a fury they beat him down from his limb.

O’ poor lowly sloth, if only you were the mighty tiger;

Perhaps then you would sink your fangs into these vultures,

Perhaps then you would arise and assume your role in this jungle,

But nay, you prefer to wile the hours away in blindness and lethargy.

Be not surprised upon awakening one day soon that your blissful paradise…

Has become a barren wasteland.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~