Frank J. Tassone

Tag: haibun

  • Foolish Notions: a #tankaprose (4/1/23)

    4/1/23: April musings A submission due, and yet an unmet requirement remains. A text asking for an ETA is left unanswered. An overcast sky, promising a persistent drizzle, transforms into a cloudless one. Why must these contradictions of common sense fester on this first of April? what elsecan one expect fromApril Fool’s daya clawless cat…

  • Unrelenting

    An assignment. Then two, then many: The “to do” list grows, a field of weeds in bloom. The hours available to meet such responsibilities dwindle before their demand. I plunge foward through the maelstrom, only to be born away. The refrain of a familiar Billy Joel song ever playing in my head… crysalis the striving…

  • A Regent Experience

    The path from my flat on Wigmore Place to Regents College passes through Regents Park. Green lawns, well-manucured lawns, gurgling fountains, even a small wooded glen: there is usually so little time to enjoy it all. Until one day, after classes, I make time. A diverging walk from my well-trodden way to and from the…

  • Momentary Mindfulness

    The tenital hum in my ears, and the electric drone behind the walls. The ignited engine of a postal truck, and the first notes of a sparrow’s song. And the rain-soaked ground where they predicted snow would fall. The warmth in my gut, and the flow of vibration down my spine. The cooling along my…

  • Nocturnal Musing

    Does a deepening night even matter? Sooner or later, a full moon rises. another deep breath in the dark

  • Jedi Games

    I remember the darkened aisle of the UA theater filled to capacity. Dad and I found our seats just as C3PO raised his golden hand over his head, crying, “Help! Please”–and then R2D2 rolled down a rocky trail between canyon walls, and into a jawa ambush. Not yet 7-years-old, I watched “Star Wars” for the…

  • A Desolate Heart

    “Welcome to the desert of the real.” –Morpheaus, from the movie, The Matrix An ever-drying aridity. Step after step across a desert stretching to the horizon. Only the memory of water. Such an exhaustion that the expression “dead on my feet” is a declaration of enthusiasm. Here, in the heart of the desert, words come…

  • A Tardy Apology

    Hello, there! I know, I know. It’s been a while. I could explain how pervasive my current writer’s block has been. I could recount the general malaise through which I’ve lived. I could recount the Star Wars gravity well down which I’ve fallen. All of this is true. Nevertheless, the story remains incomplete. I honestly…