Frank J. Tassone

Tag: Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads

  • Gemini Portraits: a solo #renga

      gathered clouds a poem as lovely as  a summer storm Why we won’t commune across our abyss Across our abyss why we won’t commune a summer storm a poem as lovely as clouds gathered         for dVerse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar — Reverse Poetry (pubtended by Frank Hubeny)   a second…

  • An unreceived Present

    still pond agape in every moment … when will we quiet the chorus in our heads? How can it be? How can Love be present, and waiting only for the asking? How can the Presence be such a gratuitous gift? Impossible! And yet, I have tasted the gift, and seen without seeing. I can still…

  • First Loss: A #ThrowdownThursday #haibun featuring my latest from .@ImageCurve

      The sky-blue Teddy bear towered over me. Charcoal eyes and nose, friendly smile: my parents nestled me in its arms. Mom told me how much I loved that Teddy. One day, the window of my room, which looked out on a sewer grate, opened during a storm. Wet leaves, mud and soaked mulch buried…

  • Strongest Wind: A #TankaTuesday #tankaprose

    Photo by Ravi Pinisetti on Unsplash   “Strongest wind remains unseen” –from The Joy Luck Club     We see, and we believe. Yes, it has served us well, this “seeing is believing,” when we address pratical matters. What happens, however, when we confront the sublime?   There, we must abandon the seen for the unseen.   Who…

  • Conflicting Silence: A #TankaTuesday (7/31/18) #TankaProse

      The sun tries to break through. The clouds that gathered will not scatter. A temperature more consistent with spring than summer holds steady. It was perfect weather to repair the paver stones on the front stoop, or write outside all morning. I did neither, becoming lost in folly on the internet.   And so…

  • Natural Epiphanies: A #TankaProse

      bizarre convictions born of the wilderness Yet I place my trust in the ultimate meaning of an empty cross   I have seen the rippling leaves in a sudden wind. Heard the rush of a rain-swelled brook. Smelled the fresh smoke of a new fire. Touched the bark of a five-hundred-year-old oak. Tasted the…

  • Stunning Contrasts on a Summer Day: A #TankaTuesday #TankaProse

      a cool summer breeze a time to sow or to reap every moment I lay my burden down to pick it up again   The last taste of burgundy rests in the well of a used wine glass. She strolls the garden after rinsing something in the sink. Maple leaves flutter in the woosh…

  • Vernal Agony and Ecstasy: A #TankaTuesday #TankaProse

        Summer sun  air conditioner straining against the humid air Cheer the gift of fresh cool air be amazed that it still flows   Only the last scheduled New York State Regents exams to proctor. Only the last compliance work to complete. Only prom and graduation, faculty meeting and final party. Only the self-paced…