A blue veined sky stretched overhead touching horizons with a quiet thinness. A cellophane skin covered the sun, like a mist in a dream being pulled tightly with the cord of your thoughts as a reckless collision of emotions presses hard to the surface, fighting for importance; the words from yesterday and the doors today … More TONIGHT’S DREAM
FROM HIS SOUL The bass player was full of the night and shadows of dark. Emotion spirits jumped from the strings sliding into ears where bones rattled In a storm of winds running wild from his fingers a picture of jazz twists from his soul.
FRONT STREET A heavy metal door slams tightly forcing calm footed pigeons up, vibrating humid air as they rise over the backside of Front Street. Clotheslines run between red bricked buildings, like knife blades over the alley as curtains flap against peeling window frames hoping for escape. Rusted fire escapes provide summer comfort for gossip … More FRONT STREET
Stand firm, hold the ground, let courage strengthen you; lions roar only when necessary, choosing battles before war creates division. Sermons call to arms willing souls bound for glory under the flag. Worthy causes stir the need to deliver for the sake of honor and faith focusing the light on the good and just.
TO THIS PLACE His music shook a thundering from the sky where white and black clouds rained down in the same color splashing fast onto faces the clean washing sprit of jazz spreading arms of welcome over cities where the land lay broken, softening the eyes of some but not all as the music storm … More TO THIS PLACE
THIEVES MOON Suspended brightly like a pirates one remaining eye a thieves moon splashes waves of light onto the graveyard. Tilted monuments speak fondly of forgotten names and long past dates as they lay beneath branches acting as arms. Voices huddle on the tongues of wagging leaves whispering tales in darkness where gossip lives under … More THIEVES MOON
Sometimes the walls feel like hands moving in, taking over my space, moving me away from the center with a pushing to the outside where instead of looking out from where I am I’m looking in to where I was. It’s an odd place, not on one side or the other, until I quiet myself, … More THE PROMISE
THE ROAD OF JAZZ A sound with light. Blinding. Passing direction on a dark flat world. Language of feeling. Bloody tears. Smiles with wings; lifting, then falling back. An uncovering. Drowning visions. Blankets of dreams; warming the cold, a shield against demons. A heartbeat. Pushing strong sound. From a distance, … More THE ROAD OF JAZZ
THICK COLLARS His living walked the halls of roads where branches pointed his direction. His coats thickness covered a chest with a heart for home. Lifting and pushing is the job of his hands; working the wrong side of each day. Breezes tease the edge of his hat, rubbing his face, forcing … More THICK COLLARS
A hedgerow opening provides an unscripted path, like a sketch void of color and where footsteps of mist fall like paper ripped from a book. Roots below turn with the passing of seasons. Silent in growth. Solemn, like the bones of names forgotten. Night stars and moon shades slant the shadows of crooked branches onto … More AN OPENING
Roger Singer 