Frank J. Tassone

Tag: poetry

  • “cicada songs…” a #tanka (9/14/19)

    9/14/19: inspired by the 2019 Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest Winners cicada songs and our neigbor’s mower waxing and waning until a sudden silence broken again #tanka#micropoetry#poetry inspired by Honorable Mentions:“a cry…” Louis Osofsky http://www.tankasocietyofamerica.org/tsa-contest/winners-and-judges-comments/2019-sanford-goldstein-international-tanka-contest-winners?fbclid=IwAR3ugZZ59_XCwGyaYC7_sSWd4hOHsInW1XT8mXnHqTOIaFgoYkiorRuHICk

  • My Daily #Haiku (9/14/19)

    9/14/19: monarch butterfly sunflowers … a monarch butterfly alights on each one #haiku #micropoetry #poetry

  • “Friday the thirteenth…” a #tanka (9/13/19)

    9/13/19: prompt-free Friday the thirteenth just below the horizon Harvest Moon I let go of a childish superstition…for now #tanka #micropoetry #poetry

  • My Daily #Haiku (9/13/19)

    9/13/19: drifting leaf a drifting leaf passes through it Harvest moon #haiku #micropoem #poem

  • Another Insomnial Evening: my latest @ImageCurve #haibun

    We lie down at 11:00 in the evening. My feet, legs, elbows feel twisted and itchy. And the sheet feels like a burial shroud. A flood of thoughts and images arise, a torrent from nowhere. Meanwhile, the darkness presses in. But sleep doesn’t come with it. Not until after five, as the rising light of…

  • “fleeing civilians…” a #tanka (9/12/19)

    9/12/19: inspired by the 2019 Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest Winners fleeing civilians and soon-abandoned streets covered in ash the first sunrise over Ground Zero inspired by “muddy foxhole…” First Place winnerDorothy McLaughlin http://www.tankasocietyofamerica.org/tsa-contest/winners-and-judges-comments/2019-sanford-goldstein-international-tanka-contest-winners?fbclid=IwAR1BbYF3l86tU-mAsbBdrP2FIIB0pDK1ICw5Q5nCRiXnN5ETrphWVozc2I0

  • My Daily #Haiku (9/12/19)

    9/12/19: orchids rainfall waiting for orchids to bloom #haiku #micropoetry #poetry

  • In Memoriam (9/11/19): an updated #haibun.

    I can almost forget. Almost, but never. The impact of the second plane. The plumes of black smoke. The bodies falling through the sunny sky. The rumble. The towers’ collapse. The enveloping white cloud filled with asbestos and powdery debris. Later, the candle memorials. The photograph collages of loved ones. The newscaster’s voice breaking up.…