There is a sleep murmur, a language of slumber, half words absent of full thoughts, verbal creations satisfying the ears while agreeing with suggestions; nodding of the head and smiling before slipping back to sleep. Dreams offer partial direction, indicating the chance to be or the place be all appears right, and above question. Night … More THE OTHER SIDE
There was an opening in the day, a slice of casual interruption, a box of memories waiting to be unwrapped. Thin tensions of thought become light and airy, like dry desert winds finding no resistance rushing over the surface. Within canyons of air, rare releases of the soul surface offering insights to the … More RARE RELEASES
Sandpaper songs chisel her image into rough edges. She is sharp to the fingers and smooth to the skin; dark pearls follow her steps.. She is an alligator wrapped in ribbons; gentle without meaning, harsh with intention. Her sound is muddy thick. Dust storms jump from the caves of … More IRREGULAR
Hot city. Concrete alleys. Weeds crawl from cracks near broken glass and homeless stars. Black wires above connect buildings like jungle vines where birds and small creatures cross the canyon. Mounds of garbage sit fat with moisture, ripe with decay. A back door opens. A fat man wearing an apron steps out lighting a cigarette. … More CONCRETE ALLEYS
Delinquent fingers march fence tops and window fronts. Crawling clouds fade my steps from gray and light. Knots of words race to the surface filling a quiet space. Days are pages folded over, holding secrets, revealing lies. The forever looks far and flat with so many … More TOO MANY BRIDGES
Strength with pull is a river full of attitude, moving without objection, running furlongs to the sea. Rain feeds its appetite. Overfilling, pushing above the collars of its boundaries until satisfied to recede. Finally, people begin to rescue their thoughts. Quiet presses down with cool curtains of wind weaving a tapestry of healing.
I saw a winking moon hide behind kingly pines where silence finds comfort in darkened leaning shadows and silver liquid beams slipped through thick boughs. Round and full faced that hanging around moon delivers light to forest paths guiding my way. Promising me a … More WINKING MOON
The jazz sweeps the lonesome form me feeding my needs and filling my wants digging into deep and pulling up like an anchor rising from the a dark blue breaking the gold blue surface releasing my pain spinning it like a top faster into fast onto the floor past dancing feet … More BREAKING SOUND
The eyes of the fighters speak with growling deep from black souls escaping to the surface. Sweat drips to a stained canvas. Blood soon releases from open wounds cut by leather. The crowd sounds a battle cry. as the bell rings. Adrenalin charges the feet to stand. Fists rise like cannons as the men circle, … More FISTS RAISED
An alley. The warm side. Red bricks mortared with sweat. Black pipes track to the roof. A radio bubbles the air. Sad songs like cold air drop into shadows. A window watcher. Second floor. Beneath the fire escape. Fingers prying apart white blinds. Viewing below; eyes deep set, hidden in a cave, protected, revealing nothing. … More WINDOW FINGERS
Roger Singer 