An over wind pushed up a black shirt collar; his shoes form a bond with wet sidewalks. His eyes absorb the night, like a hawk searching the land. Lines of street lights step him from one circle to the next, where he slides through shadows with cool his face. The sky broods … More THE GARDEN OF SKIN
A full puff of air filled my sail lifting the need of my soul pushing me with lovers hands into up and over settling into my ears oiling my breathing parts nurturing me with the strength of a rushing train heavy on metal tracks rolling with running blowing steam crazy with sound grabbing the crowd … More CRAZY WITH SOUND
A gypsy vagabond of notes, refreshing like spring rain, lifted up with the fragrance from warm roads mixed with cut grass, a moment alive with sound from angels as the piano created a language, familiar to itself yet unknowing to many nearby, listening as they would a speech dry from paper, lifeless, missing the fluid … More IVORY FINGERS
Sing me up. Bring the jazz for the baptizing of souls, living strong, breathing cool fires from river running out of the Ohio snaking down mightily to Louisiana where the steps get wide and songs speak of folks left behind, walking river banks, looking south, humming the tunes I know, lifting my blood to Little … More LITTLE LIZA JANE
She was a chance for good air the beginning of song released in the wings of her words bold with color strong with history on the stage where she worshipped the words opening black nights with subtle breezes like her travel to towns blurred with names and faces melting into closing as she moved on … More SUBTLE BREEZES
Night chords drip a slow pace. Porches fill with moving voices. The ice in drinks mix with perfume and sweat. The bass man spills the passion while his hands create a sound blessing. He has a garden of jazz to release. Colors in the crowd move forward, bright with face, soft in soul. He provides … More INSPIRATION
Up from the rafters of the underfloor, the old man forces the his sax to whisper out the birth of favored notes. His fingers strain and shoulders ache but he plays from his mind the songs he knows, remembering the clubs and dancers, the circling smoke and passionate eyes absorbing the music. In his … More THE UNDERFLOOR
I got me a guitar. The life of my hands jumps the strings, forcing words out my mouth with a sound of thunder popping, so remember, this ain’t no opera, where neon lights crackle with sizzle and busted dreams lay scattered in alley suitcases, cracked open like eggs snapping on a griddle of grease, spattering … More DRINKING RAIN
A coronet sounds fresh into air like rain from a troubled sky, slipping sharp past an open apartment window, past jealous earthbound curtains, chipped paint and neglected flowers, over a fire escape where the fluid of sound tumbles down metal stairs past girls smoking cigarettes and snapping gum crossing corners where garbage cans stink of … More REACHING
Songs overflow from doors opening to the sidewalk where.neon lights baptize the weak, stirring the curiosity of a night strung tight while others pray in alleys whispering their sins under a celestial curtain as stars cross behind the black of space where not a molecule is out of place as cool air covers the tapestry … More FINDING NIGHT
Roger Singer 