Tag: GloPoWriMo2020
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Novel-Coronal Hope: a #NaPoWriMo2020 / #GloPoWriMo2020 #AmericanSentence #TankaProse
“…so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” Gandalf, “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring,” J.R.R. Tolkien We do not face the abyss alone, for the…
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#Haikai Challenge #135 (4/18/20): New Moon #haiku #senryu #haibun #tanka #haiga #renga
Enjoy your Easter Lillies, haijin? Congratulations to last week’s contributors: Haikai Challenge Participants 1. Frank J. Tassone2. Dave Madden3. Li/Lisa 4. Jules5. Xenia Tran6. Eugenia 7. Mosshawk8. Peter9. Revived Writer Powered by… Mister Linky’s Magical Widgets. Onward! We often savor the full moon. Many past #haikai challenges called for poems on various ones throughout the…
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Coronal Solitude: A #TankaProse
The numbers rise. New cases. Death rates. Deaths per 1 million. So do the aruguments. “Government doesn’t have the right.” “It’s no worse than the flu.” “The economy must open.” All witnessed through screens: the iPhone, the iPad, the Acer in the office overlooking the street. Where a handful of maples unfurl fresh leaves, while…
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My Daily #Haiku (4/18/20)
4/18/20: branch spring gustbending another brancha leaping squirrel #haiku #micropoetry #poetry #NaPoWriMo2020 #GloPoWriMo2020
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A Haiku Cavalcade: A #NaPoWriMo2020 / #GloPoWriMo2020 / #InHaiPoDay2020 #Haiku Sequence
first snowfall inserting a cartridge in the Atari wet season within the rain forest cacaphony midafternoon sun staring from the shade an iguana falling leaves flyover country between us
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“another layer…” a #tanka (4/17/20)
4/17/20: unprompted another layer of gray covers the sky another chill even as maples bud and dogwoods bloom #tanka #micropoetry #poetry #NaPoWriMo2020 #GloPoWriMo2020
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My Daily #Haiku (4/17/20)
4/17/20: resevoir leafblower drone —a resevoir filledwith waterfowl #haiku #micropoetry #poetry #NaPoWriMo2020 #GloPoWriMo2020
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The Last Apparition: a #NaPoWriMo2020 / #GloPoWriMo2020 #TankaProse
What higher praise can I offer you, mother, than a prayer through you to your son? these remains of devotional sculpture how can I witness such things with these dry eyes and still go on living?
Frank J. Tassone 