Lazy snake trains slumber overhead, listing hard into long rusty corners, rattling like bones in pain resembling old men walking to the park. Dark cafes list yesterday’s menus where hungry hands rain down with forks and sharp knives, scratching plates while lovers kiss and strangers stare. Sidewalks spotted … More YESTERDAYS MENU
I own the crossroads, the place of left and right, the straight and narrow, high crested curved roads and paths under rock gray clouds in valleys shared by yesterdays moon and breezes quick and cool with dust from boots traveling in circles and riding to lonely places and diners filled with searching and suspicions and … More CROSSROADS
…..and I say, that Lombard Street got the curves to knock the straight out of my shoes, echoing the hallway, sounding on walls cracked from fast songs and babies crying, in a city, under a heaven where angels have gone south, away from broken glass and whiskey breath made of sea foam and cold … More IT IS SO
It was the last days of warm sand. Afternoon shadows lay long and slender. The sun slipped away a little earlier and the clouds appeared thinner from where I stood. Season change is a transition of the soul, a sacrifice without choice; the end of one, the beginning of another. A rightly authority turns … More TRANSITION
We face a day of crossings, a full plate of unmatched space. A highway of the next day, wanting answers before the corners are reached. Decisions require a force to continue. It’s a dry day with an open horizon. A few thin clouds too weak to cast shadows. We strike out. Moving forward draws deep … More PATIENCE WAITING
A low moon, smiling full, casts silver blankets over my backyard. Darkness swells into corners where sounds dissolve into a flat silence. A lone shirt on a clothesline with arms walking, imitates a dancing life; breezes fill the yard like children playing. The window prints my nose cold. My bed refreshes me with its warmth. … More MOON SILVER
The brass of her voice struggled smooth, like feet running underwater. The climbing of her song planted her on high ground, where angels protected her in clouds. Her message is full of her; arms of the past, faces fading, she turns to shadows for comfort. Rich velvet agonies slide … More IN THE CLOUDS
Jazz rained down in rivers catching out strong soul and soft hands rising to the call of music prayers among blind angels who fail on color and possess great mercy scattering dark thoughts, lost eyes , and roads leading from home and shoes speaking miles and dirty hands breathing out the land with labor work … More AMEN
Jazz holds me captive when her voice spills from strong sculptured depths… flowing over the crowd with warm summer downpours of sounds soaking their souls richly… Fulfilling wishful dreams of lonely men who count themselves lucky to gaze at her… Eyes the shade of Egyptian blue oceans where … More WEAK SPIRITS
Ancient muscles of water form the flow of rivers. Tumbling volume, surface clear while the deep black is a mystery of all things tangled. River banks stone or sand. Grand glacial monoliths sit submerged from sight. Trees lean to the water, the source of their roots. Heavy rains run the banks over. The teeth of … More A CALM DAY
Roger Singer 