Frank J. Tassone

Tag: photo

  • Smuggs Chronicle ’14, Day 16: August 9, 2014 (My Latest .@ImageCurve #Haibun)

    I awake at five. Toss and turn until seven. Then give up and center on the deck for the last time at Smuggs this season. Birdsongs, so different and yet similar, to home; the hum of AC units: they fill the air. The sky brightens, though it’s still quite cool. We’ll soon depart. I feel…

  • A Commune of Castaways? (a #kyokaprose #haibun)

    I can already hear Sting singing the refrain. But what if this is the first of a hundred-million bottled messages? Perhaps the inter-connectivity social media platforms promised us has only further isolated us? Maybe we are all “castaways, looking for a home.” Will I open the bottle? Or do I leave it in the sand?…

  • A Post-Controversy Transcendence: a solo #senryu #renga

    “the right to bear arms…” the fresh blood drying in the streets Congressional conjectures amidst empty coffers of wolves and sheep dogs … the choked-off trachea of a dead sheep “The sheep should have listened…” “Return the dog to the field…” inverted yield curves everyone to blame except where “the buck stops…” “Everything is fine…

  • Enshadowed Illumination: A #Prosery #AmericanSentence #haibun

    You weren’t supposed to know. Our adoptive parents received a business letter with a mistake, one that costs lawyers their livelihoods: my name “Jamie.” We shared one life from that moment: you, ever in the clear light of day; I, always in the shadows. Your life was my could-have-been. You, with your second-birth-certificate name, usurped…

  • #SilentSunday (8/18/19)

    a rest from #haiku See you tomorrow!

  • The Journey: a #writephoto #haibun

    “Will I live to see my journey’s end?” –Metal Church, “Badlands” I have ascended the grassy knolls of gentle country hills. I have scambled up the rocks and slopes of jagged mountains. I have meandered wooded paths across roaring brooks and dried-out creekbeds. I have endured the blistering sun and the bone-chilling rain. I have…

  • The Sorrow before Surrender: a #TankaProse

    8/16/19: making peace from war The thunderous echoes of weapons of war. The sirens, the shattered apartments and hospitals. The survivors, buried with the dead, under rubble. The legions of dead and injured among the combatants. The even greater casualties among the civilians. Is it exhaustion that unclenches the fists of those in war? The…

  • Smuggs Chronicle ’14, Day 15: August 8, 2014 (my latest .@ImageCurve #haibun)

    The trail is a mix of gravel and dirt. Pine seedlings, high grass and ferns flank it on both sides. Morse mountain starts more evenly than Madonna. Until we come to the first rise. Then the trail just keeps on ascending. mist on Madonna breathing hard around another bend Mira recognizes the summit. Top of…