An irrepressible deep river roared under a smooth surface. The water parts are filled from rain and streams and the undergrowth of the weak. The high banks lay evidence to the force Of soil breaking. Trees bend. Rocks tilt. All parts yielding to the waters grasp and flow. A lean subtle confident power pushes on … More ROARING
An energy wind rolled over gray stones and sand; the spent blood of glaciers. Dark waters, the fluid of night oceans, reflects stars and a crescent cold moon. The last of the clouds discharges a mist; absorbed without voices into horizons . Heaven opens night’s gates, releasing … More NIGHT OCEANS
I know the face of 3am. It pulls tight at the bones of my rest, unwrapping the scaffolding of my cellophane sleep, breaking into my room; my eyes open into a dark sea of nothing. 3am is a black star absent of an orbit, a horizon fused into the soup … More 3 AM
An encampment of thunder breathes boldly nearby, announcing its presence like armies marching on cobblestone streets wearing tin hats and garbage lid shoes. A salvo of explosions beats out a rhythm painting the sky and land with sound releasing the rain and a cold cutting wind speaking the language of turbulent power while claiming the … More THUNDERING
From the open door I pass daily on the Rue des Lombards lined with lilac bushes, I lean to the sound of a piano; I pause with curious ears. Athletic fingers prompt the song to spill unwrapped to me, circling like a scarf, holding my thoughts, catching me out of … More RUE des LOMBARDS
Sleep is an explorer of anxious pathways where corridors of hidden thoughts collide recklessly at untested crossroads releasing pathways without fences. Sleep is the invisible black where eyes and fingers twitch as the visual curtains of life rise and then fall. There are mumblings of half sentences, warnings, forgotten names and prayers for forgiveness. Sleep … More INVISABLE BLACK
Midnight has a voice. A calling for those searching, unable to rest with anxious feet crossing streets trying to but not finding that second chance. Midnight is the thin slice of between yesterday and today. It’s half of this and the start of that. Some fear the straight up … More HALF OF THIS AND THAT
It’s a life of folding. Pressed down, gazing into unassuming faces, like clouds, changing and then reshaping. Songs are the blankets of thoughts. Small voices provoke streams of words. Silence opens the eyes to creative volumes. We protect. Holding the candle of our flame close. Opening up too soon could close us down. Dreams tempt … More IT’S ALL ABOUT
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
A blue veined sky stretched overhead touching horizons with a quiet thinness. A cellophane skin covered the sun, like a mist in a dream being pulled tightly with the cord of your thoughts as a reckless collision of emotions presses hard to the surface, fighting for importance; the words from yesterday and the doors today … More TONIGHT’S DREAM
Roger Singer 