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
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
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
The notes sing to me. A grandma spiritual; warm evenings, bugs buzzing on yellow lights, a fever of warmth. Night solid with dark; the breath of men gasp tired. I see my youth. A ball of knots. Tied up in love, broken under the weight of tears; running eyes, inhaling life into my soul. The … More I SING THE REMEMBERS
Ears grasped for the message in her sound dripping hard and heavy with soul preaching a righteous pain she earned from long nights and bad kisses where tired eyes and wrong desires begged for the shelter of a soft shoulder listening to broken dreams rupturing from the darkness of her … More EARNING THE PAIN
The dust of towns, flat, lifeless. Cold winds and red neon’s fill the need of his searching as he walks the dirt. A song with flavor branded in his head and on his arm, marches his feet to travel; all places look the same. His guitar breathes with sound; a crooked smile slides from … More WALKING THE DIRT
Rising golden and draining warm onto painted houses and wooden wharfs long streaks of sun touch Coit’s tower and sacred hills. Down on Fillmore and Columbus with class where jazz sits strong and grows pulling like lines of hungry fish snapping at sourdough. Across the golden arms and from … More SOURDOUGH JAZZ
From the chairs faces brightly shine like early Sunday clothed to watch and rightly bathed in song and word like baptisms sprinkled fresh over righteous hungry souls. Her jazzy words float like flowers cast on oceans where souls rest far below where lonely ears patiently wait to be freed. … More HER JAZZY VOICE
Hungry teeth shine with white framed by lips singing the music with throaty words offered up bright like morning pushing past sleepy hanging curtains washing night from fibers and fingers reaching into working days of men and sweat and women soft speaking silk and sporting pearls while waiting with watching … More THE SIZE OF JAZZ
Fingertips tap to the drummers beat with bang and slide following the ups and downs of his rhythm like cats scared into jumping high as the crowd waters their moving cool under lazy fans rounding like spinning moons while they dance thick on sawdust whispering words into ears hungry with … More BOILING HOT
Roger Singer 