There is a vision inside of everyone. A vision of something distant from reality, yet persistent, attempting to create belief. A flash of honey sweetens the dreams that we hide in our pillows. Stories tightly wrapped in linen. A fresh song or story taps its way to the surface, turning over the stone of … More NIGHT TRAVELER
I pulled down a dream. Opened like a present. I feel a full sun warming me; breezes reinforce the moment. Beach grass bends to rhythm. Bicycles, open shirts, uncombed hair. Faces without voices. Water reflections. Warm freshly tarred roads. The fragrance of low tide. Corners without boundaries. Each day writes its own menu. Radios speak … More ONE PAST YESTERDAY
There’s an island I feel in my dreams. A safe current with abundant sun, providing energy without resistance. An open front door offers promise. A bouquet of flowers sits on a hallway table; circling white fans refresh incoming ocean breezes. White sands encourage me and waves orchestrate a welcome. I walk into the water as … More THIS PLACE
There’s an island I feel in my dreams. A safe current with abundant sun, providing energy without resistance. An open front door offers promise. A bouquet of flowers sits on a hallway table; circling white fans refresh incoming ocean breezes. White sands encourage me and waves orchestrate a welcome. I walk into the water as … More THIS PLACE
The ground rose, colliding with the emotions of my steps, railroading me through stations of thought. Like drums beating a steady cadence of emotions, suggesting a direction for desire. Goals evaporated without explanation. Private thoughts hide in the alleys where dreams live long enough to take a few breaths. There’s fire in the creative hands … More AS THE GARDEN GROWS
At the end of the earth there’s a diving board for each of us, where grieving souls and soiled hands search for a higher place; everyone hopes for security. Truth exposes itself in various colors; nighttime is when the fear of alone is invisible. Long stories and dreams about voices no longer present fill … More JUMP IN
Two blocks into Harlem. White shirts, black ties, flowered dresses, patent leather shoes, tattoos and beautiful hair; the streets are always alive. The beat mixes up. The man with a full beard smiles, exposing a picket fence for teeth. Conga drums call out the dance in people. Red and purple cotton hats jive like … More THE HEART OF SONG
The moon dissolved over treetops. This area is remote and wild. A black night sky sheds its stars from a dark canopy. Dreams and wishes hold hands with the desperate. Eyes open the heart for a path without obstacles. This feels like the top of the world. A place owned by few. You can … More LIMITED OFFER
Night is the last language of day, full of unspoken wishes while breathing new words. Theatres with black and white movies attract the mysterious; plenty of empty red velvet seats. Stained concrete steps descend into the veins of subways. Under examined street art is worth less than the paint. Crisscrossing pedestrians stream past like … More STILL FRAMES
He leans back against a brick wall on a three legged chair playing the harmonica. Angels pause at the sound. Traffic passes unnoticed. The sound is gold in his mind. He thinks of words despite detractions. There is an overpass of thin weaving clouds. The sun warms his hands. Pigeons rustle their wings with feathered … More STEADFAST
Roger Singer 