It was a voyage, a trip without boundaries, an engine full of steam with the power to move. Like a train moving from the station the noise encompassed the faint and stirred the strong; hats were held for fear of sliding off. It was the time of great thought, a message held from an extended … More HOW EXCITING
Leaving fails with injustice, darkly sounding without color; a hand waves into smooth waters. The price of finding leaves no opening for escape. Long wishes match winters cold. Favor blesses the angels shedding tears. Shadows rich with song resume passions and promises. Ocean breezes are the appetite for great sails. Dreams speak … More PASSIONS HAND
Cruel splashes of blue neon lights curiously push into an open apartment, window to where a man sits looking out. Below voices of strangers pass on the sidewalk, their shoes tap and scuff to the corner where they blend into traffic. Music lightly filters up. A warm breeze touches the arm of the … More OPEN WINDOW
It was a crawl space for thoughts, a window slight with opening, a moment of memory cutting in at the head of the line, full of intensity and color, reminding us of where we’ve been and the joy we achieved once arriving. It’s a wall without a door. A face without a mouth. We feel … More OPEN AND CLOSE
On a nearby corner people gather like twisted vines, listening to street rhythms and sidewalk music. Standing there was a rite of passage, an image statement of you. It’s where passions are formed and spirits blend, where names have value and brotherhood reigns. The traffic is a language in motion. A sound familiar and expected … More THE CORNER
Thick black locomotives, their sound claiming the air, rumble with earth shaking strength as they conquer their space. Rolling over table top flat tracks the engines breathe in and expel an energy without competition or equal. Its front light opens into daylight and at night sets a beam of warning and ferocity as it moves … More TRACKS OF TRAINS
The moons circled my dark night room, slipping in silent celestial paths until morning forces my separation from sleep. I cast off arms of blankets and wrappings as slivers of morning cross sharply over me. Cool air drifts over my windows ledge, satisfying my room with aroma, stirring the grasp I have yet hooked of … More ONE MORE DAY
He was a salesman of dreams. With his suitcase he presented to customers brushes, mirrors and items of vanity to create charm. His hat gently tipped to the right. A flowered tie lay like a vine around his neck, blooming wildly on his chest. His suit was wrinkled with sleep. Brown shoes were heavily scuffed … More DOOR TO DOOR
It was a low tide. The aroma was of wet sand and seaweed. The rocks lay brazenly exposed, their sides speckled with barnacles. The water produced a ripple of waves; a motion of silence. A cellophane sky, yellow and pale white, spread thin over the horizon, appearing as a luxury of violence, like strangers … More FINGERPRINTS
Wall shadows of arms and legs randomly move about, voices flat and muted while hurrying past, each arriving someplace only they know. From a thick leather chair I observe the appetite of the city, sensing their anxious thirst to achieve that which was greater than yesterday. Rising from within the masses comes city … More A LOW GROWL
Roger Singer 