Tag: haibun
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Incarnating Inspiration
As if there could be any other way. As though muscles on metacarpals, under the muse’s sway, could do anything else… poeming this endlessly stretching blank page tonight, this white space just no rhymes, no words That moment when poet and poem bleed into each other. Who knows where one ends, the other begins? find…
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This Summer Solstice
Morning light breaks over the northernmost house on my block. My face bathes in it. I treasure it’s warmth for the time being. Later on, the latest sunset of the year passes without my notice. Solstice passing without comment still, I smile, seeing the Strawberry Moon for Tanka Poets on Site: Gerry Muse #412. Prompt…
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’92 Eurailing
Spring Vacation, 1992. I travel across Northern Europe via Eurorail pass. After an engaging stay in Amsterdam, into which I flew out of Heathrow, I hop the first train down to Brugge. The marble square, the multiple steps up its picturesque tower, the bike ride through the countryside with two aquaintences I met at our…
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Solsticing
From a certain point of view: days lengthen, and temperatures rise. Yang rises over Yin. He roars in pleasure at the climax of their ecstasy. Fecund fields soon fill with bounty, and verdancy abounds. Yin, so small beneath him, utters a sigh of simple delight, her shortest night soon over. From a certain point of…
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Father’s Day morning, ’24
An early morning awakening after the Aquila’s Nests Vineyard/179 Main/”Unforgettable Fire” experience. The aroma of bacon accompanies pancakes. Exchanges of cars with the bride and son. A call. Another Father’s Day. Without you. clear sky a breeze tussles cherry tree leaves
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Those Feet
…that carried me up three of the 47 Adirondack peaks near Lake Placid. Or across the multiple legs of the Appalachian Trail. Or simply along the New Rochelle sidewalks, and the paths around Five Islands Park. …that I take for granted each morning I step out of bed, or up from the meditation cushion, or…
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“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”
Sandpaper sensations ripple under and across my skin, along my triceps and thighs. The dull ache radiating out of the elbows, knees, metacarcals and the toes doesn’t stop. Even the departure of the day’s rain has not helped. Ride the Dragon. My throat catches as I imagine her. My shoulders and neck tense up. I…
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Agony/Ecstasy
Imagine a tumultuous storm. Hurricane force winds and tsunami-esque storm surges riled to existentially murderous proportions. Coastlines disintegrated in seconds, with receding sand the only sign of once-vibrant communities. A devastation so widespread that a nation of child-crying is but another utterance of desolation. whirlwind this fury within Imagine a refreshing breeze. Fluttering leaves beside…
Frank J. Tassone 