Frank J. Tassone

Tag: photo

  • #SilentSunday (8/11/19)

    As if you hadn’t already guessed 😉 … a rest from #haiku See you tomorrow!

  • Smuggs ’14 Chronicle, Day 14, August 7, 2014 (my latest .@ImageCurve #haibun)

    Gray cloudsclinging under the deck raila string of raindropswhat better morningfor intimacy? Awake at two in the morning. Restless in bed until after five. Awake again, this time by Frank, at nine. Soon, listening to crow caws, sparrow and blue jay songs, the rustle of leaves in the wind, clanking pots, and Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”…

  • Obscure perils: a #haibun

    A safehouse of sorts, although why I need one remains unclear. Nor why I need help I don’t get to play some video game. Then more instructions: “You’ve got to do this…” and “Don’t do that…” It’s like I’m being prepped for some mission. Only the parameters aren’t clear. I have the sensation that some…

  • A Moment of Mindful Movement: a #tankaprose

    Bloodshed in three states in a week. Over twenty-nine dead in two cities within twenty-four hours. Three mass-shooters: only one alive and under arrest. The arguments begin. The ones that insist military-grade weaponry belong with the military versus the ones screaming, “Don’t touch my guns!” A President of the United States that tweets “It’s the…

  • Hope out of Hiroshima

    What is it like to look up from the shadowed outlines burned into the walls? Where can one go to see through the black rain? How can all of the tears be dried when the shattered ruins of murdered cities lay all around? Only one people have answered that question. They rose. Yes, with the…

  • Smuggs ’14 Chronicle, Day 13, August 6, 2014 (My latest .@ImageCurve #haibun)

    Madonna rises ahead. The ski lift passes out of sight. Mira and I walked hear all the way from Mountain Laurel 15 via the Meadowlark. Now I wonder what we were thinking. gravel on grass Summit enshrouded in gray clouds A maintenance worker sporting a wheel tattoo on his left forearm recommends a pathway. We…

  • Ephemeral Eternities: a #TankaProse

    How an aroma of a scarlet petal contains the rapture of joy. How a single prick of thorn holds the agony of pain. How fleeting, even when cared for. How enduring in memory, when gone. How Shakespeare denigrates it through Juliet’s “What’s in a name…” How Stephen King mystifies it as an icon of the…

  • #SilentSunday (7/28/19)

    A rest from #Haiku See you tomorrow!