Frank J. Tassone

Category: haikai

  • My Daily #Haiku (5/6/21)

    5/6/21: mudflat croaking frogfar from a mudflatthis spring day #haiku #micropoetry #poetry

  • “lingering taste…” a #tanka (5/5/21)

    5/5/21: unprompted lingering tasteof homemade fajitas thisCinco de Mayoafter a day of raina soft evening breeze #tanka #micropoetry #poetry

  • My Daily #Haiku (5/5/21)

    5/5/21: boardwalk Cinco de Mayothe patter of fresh rainon the boardwalk #haiku #micropoetry #poetry

  • My Daily #Haiku (5/4/21)

    5/4/21: driftwood storm surge…driftwood drawn inon the tide #haiku #micropoetry #poetry

  • Scattered and Gathered

    Too many voices. Too few of them my own. The drumbeat noise of Twitter and its ever-inciting FOMA. The incessant cymbols of Google-Classroom work, with its screens of tiled avatars and silent answers. The base-boom of volunteering demands. Somehow the path of poetry ended under windblown sand. I stumbled into the sandstorm, fingers clenching the…

  • Presence: A #Haibun (4/26/2021): Day 26 of #NationalPoetryMonth

    Fresh crabapple leaves flutter. The mantle clock tick-tocks, tick-tocks. Frank’s voice carries from beyond his closed door. I walk to the couch, grab a pillow, and return to my seat at the dining room table. The Syracuse windchimes sound off. A roar soft as a sated lion: the new windchimes ring out. Branches sway like…

  • My Daily #Haiku (4/18 – 4/20)

    4/18/21: trove a treasure troveof sunlit graniteMinnewaska 4/19/21: sage she smudgesthe house againwhite sage 4/20/21: winkle what it takesto winkle out justicemagnolia bloom #haiku #micropoetry #poetry #NationalPoetryMonth #NationalPoetryMonth2021 #NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo #napowrimo2021 #glopowrimo2021

  • A Correspondence II: a #haibun (4/12/21): Day 12 of #NationalPoetryMonth

    Witness their blood stain the sands, Persian King. See your 200,000+ strong army fall by the scores at Marathon. O Darius, a mere 10,000 Greeks drove your screaming soldiers into the sea. Watch your ambition fail with them, as soon after you lie with your ancestors. twenty-six-point-two the last runner crosses the finish line. How…