The notes had feet running me down with slaps to my face speaking hard of the pain forged in rooms with smoke and ice as the beat jumped me like thieves intent on harm bruising with jive a blues fat with thick and jazz painted black. running songs fast with lust and catch them all … More BRUISING WITH JIVE
Where’s the song I remember? The one we all knew, at least some of us did. From radios on beaches, flowing out car windows and down hallways playing its tune. The song bridled a sweetness to the air, a message of words, a rhythm, where fingers tapped and heads nodded. Like life, things fade. Memories … More THAT SONG
Under the skin, a motor of sound. Molasses fingertips play dark thick jazz. Wet soaked dirt roads kick start the aroma of his thoughts. Smooth perfumed skin smiles into his lust. His mile of strong words runs like a river engine; a power few own. A wind moves on a sweet green growing field. His … More DEEP POCKETS
His arms were roots, thirsty for water; its color and taste indifferent to his lust. His hair boasted unruliness, dry and odd shaped, like unkempt fields leaning from wild winds. He disconnected himself, inventing sounds from tears while his skin was sore from long work and seeing empty plates and passing rocks that … More AT THE TOP
Crawling gray clouds like dusty knees of workers slide over a wooden bridge where a girl sings over waters below. Her voice occupies the transient air as she claims her place above quiet waters slipping downstream.
Paths of dust circle his name, rising like a sun of eyes watching a circle of moons fall into the river of his jazz where he pulls heavy at the waters twisting them up into waves of air cooling the heat of his strides as he swaggers sweetly while the sound crashes on a shoreline … More HIGH ABOVE
Wisdom reached down heavy ignoring the dark brooding on earth’s face. Mighty power touched heavenly long black dancing fingers with a dream. A fat willing wooden bass fell in love with the hands of his youth. His jazzed sounds leaned strong pushing sweet his voice through strings.
The passion of the violin stretches into a rising sound when applied with an exactness and faith, encouraging the verses among the notes, a clever idea of grace filled twice. The air salutes with respect the song, wishing it could play through the branches with such ease; even thunder boasts over tympani. The cherry orchard … More VIOLIN STRENGTH
Swirling breezes push hard with jumpy hurricane winds slapping fast like mosquitoes flying round sticky music buzzing wild in your head that can’t be trapped like a scratchity scratch you just can’t reach with itchy fat fingers so instead you start to hum and make a way for the song to … More SCRATCHITY SCRATCH
His gift thrives from his pain as he trumps the air with his horn. Golden flashes strike the wall as his hands lift the notes weighted with years. His music draws in with pull while the sounds push then tease twisting around faces like lovers’ fingers begging for mercy. He … More PUSH AND PULL
Roger Singer 