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
A black wall. His fears standing against him. No breath blows the barrier down. No shouts, push, pull Or hide the anger. But when he sings…. He sings the strength of trees falling, owning the space where they lie. His sound hammers the air, framing rooms on the stage of his mind. And when he … More WALLS BOW DOWN
I know a place where two roads gather into one marked by stonewalls where peace finds a rest away from the city tucked where few know it shines with quiet moments under summers cool shade. Grand trees line the road like sentries securing a path with massive forbidding mighty … More THE STONES
A face on a flag, the wind gives it voice. Steam from the day retires nights grasp. Horns and lights, the blood of cities, pull at the weak. People envy the closure of circles, the place where end is welcomed and faces are familiar. Lights breathe onto crowded shorelines where people … More RESTLESS
A hard breath parts the dust on her working hands as she repairs the soil for seeds in the season ripe to plant, in rows where hope is watered and faith realized, in the life garden, the section she owns, moving and rising the mounds waiting for vines and plants under the tides of her … More BETWEEN SEASONS
Roger Singer 