The warm water of jazz found favor on my ears cleansing the inner me rolling cool into air bad with thirst forming breezes lifting hair and silk skirts blowing licks and healing suffering wounds with the gift of pure song like stars born falling to earth and into the hearts of horns and strings with … More FALLING TO EARTH
He is a gathering man, like wind pulling at leaves, or dry ground praying for rain. He is the cents of a dollar, changing for no one. He spits in places shoes fail to go. Music knows him; his style is the air escaping from the stage. The aroma of a carnation boutonnière is the … More SOLID WIND
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
He was a sax man, raising the heat on the here and down, firing up stoves, cooking with jazz, pushing it with a lifting of hands, creating great sounds from reaching as the wall clock crosses over to tomorrow jumping his ride colliding with the sun, splitting the shade to shadows and jive until night … More WHERE DREAMS MELT
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
There was a hot rain streaming to heaven onto cobblestone streets. Misty warm baked sun breezes blow steady like the sax man, blanketing the city from work worn docks up to the statue in Jackson Square. New Orleans offers dreams beneath magnolias and rattling frontons. Broken souls sleep off the city on street cars … More CRESCENT CITY
He breathed out the blues with the release of a raspy washboard, capturing the days full of sweat under a full sun or nights hanging moss or in backrooms where spilled whiskey drenches sawdust floors. He had a birth of songs flash spitting from hot greasy pans of his kingdom high thoughts, peppered with … More BLUES MAN
The piano man got no shake for hurrying those fingers working notes jump walls like thieves stretching long to escape. Hungry air yields like trees caught in storms tilting hard roulette sound got no stop when spinning into jazz up and out.
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 