Misplaced thoughts are broken stones. The sides of the road hold treasures for those walking by. Old newspapers separate us from yesterday’s tragedies. Wisdom is born in diners and roadside Cafes. Painted signs on old barns hold the innocence of roadside marketing. Paper hats have character against the sun. Popsicles were once five cents. Longer … More TRUTH
The newspaper drapes a lifeless shape over the arm of a couch, like fallen leaves of yesterday; past shadows of news and names. Lines of cars pass by below. The street yawns of morning. The aroma of coffee walks to the bedroom where last nights clothes lay asleep on the floor. The overhead piping creaks. … More I WISH
Thoughts are full of moles searching for words, expanding on stories where nothing is lost. Roots of destiny and legacy are the appetite of moles as they absorb the changes of character from open windows and behind doors. Memory requires extra strength to burrow through, releasing photos of faces and sins packed away. … More MOLES
A river of stairs high above in a galaxy of streams beyond the reach of tearful upturned eyes fails to provoke an affect on order or direction within the heavens. Shadowed gray night images slip between fences and past angry sleeping dogs while pleadings and unanswered prayers attract angels waiting for words that act … More UPTURNED
A change into morning colors breathed light onto the dreams of day. A thoughtless calm smoothed the waters To a surface of glass forming a quiet language A sleepy chatter of birds in tall trees opened with a chorus claiming the air. Day unfolded with a chance for a new beginning.
Street lights sign in as dusk resigns to darkness. Scattered shadows of leaves dance on midnight sidewalks. Homes sleep in silence. Dark breezes lift curtain edges, creating life from worn cloth. Porch lights dot the galaxy of streets. Picket fences keep strangers away but ghosts pass through freely. A train whistle, distant yet sharp, bleeds … More MIDNIGHT
A day fills the pages for night dreams. Songs settle into wide branches while lovers speak in whisper language. Night is blind to evil. The land is filled with stiff gray images. A jagged twisting wind circles over smooth faces. Silence holds the greatest of weight under an early sliver of moon. … More FOREVER GONE
Pillows are the footnotes of thoughts, the bubbling of half truths and scattered sticks of wisdom, expressed without order in the night of a room. Pillows are the guardians of words drooled from the chasm of mouths and ejected from cerebral complexities. The warden of speech releases into night swimming dreams, the backlog of anxiety … More PILLOW TALK
There’s a merging of shadows around the backside of me, positioning to break out and pass to the front with quick steps and nervous breaths. Ships of night line up for the challenge of dreams. Topsails strain at the strength of speed while battling cold steel overcasts attempting to slow the progress forged in the … More COMMON SENSE
Under a moon of freezing light night touches the threads of sleep. Curtains lay pulled back, bunched in the middle by a cloth cord. Flowered wallpaper dreams of spring. The fireplace light wanes into gray corners. Day is a bucket of empty, yielding to frost and mice seeking shelter. Soft words … More A QUIET ROOM
Roger Singer 