River edge at the yawning of the delta, I hear cottonwoods rattle voices like people, low by campfires scraping washboards and snapping strings; soft footed fast picking thieves run with shadows. Beating drums stretch the skin of messages released under wide blue free skies of music calling. Red dusty roads rise up stormy jazzy … More DELTA JAZZ
Long live that blue 54 Chevy with dots for tails and fancy chrome door handles that slipped your smile back to you with a welcome reflection into a long cushy fat blue pin stripped seat with snappy springs where kids bounced while music played of summer warm and windows were full down letting … More THAT 54 CHEVY
Voices from a stream, then a river swirl around me, fashioning a sound in the place where I stand. Words of all sizes comb over me, pulling open the cords on the vision I see. There in the silence, like a window opening and a sky without limit, I lean to the quiet … More CALLING ME
Like a bridge, expanding, long, holding tightly to the valley sides. A formula of stone and sand. Rigid with support, flexible for passage. To some, it is the middle of hope. The way out or back. A long finger of steel and cables pointing to or away. Either direction of passage is a handrail of … More MIDDLE HOPE
I press against the pull of chains That others fail to see, The battles raging in my eyes The hours lost within. The failings mount In dark storm clouds Like horses pulling strong And thunder speaks in final tones As I drift away from home. The warrior stands affirmed for … More WARRIORS WITHIN
Under the dream of summer I become a lazy traveler, like chrysanthemums breaking and falling, spreading my thoughts like sunlight on my shirt.. Songs dance my feet into islands, stepping over warm sand and then rolling in its gold. A lemon sun held the day, judging stars to withhold and the moon to … More LEMON WARM
Day sheds its skin. The low bass of time moves daylight to its end. Streets open their hands to my arms and feet. Low light. Last light puddles. Dusk coughs a last breath. Night paints faces with shadows. Windows shut. Whispers find corners where promises are broken. Hats tip and collars rise. A cool breeze … More NIGHT WALK
Words become a watershed, the express of desire, a fountain draining to the ground, forming streams of release. The engine of day caresses the eyes as they mirror the images of streets and voices crowding into fast lines. Hats hold close the thoughts, while hands point or find pockets for rest. … More STREET NOISE
Out of Tangiers the fragrance followed. A stack of letters bound with a blue ribbon, wait for the seeds of their thoughts to be watered when their words are read. Suits with ties and jackets unzipped. The conversation moved onto paper with broken pencils until 2am; sleep can wait. Cold water and a third floor … More PARIS HOTEL
Three bells sound within a mist. Sheng Street fills with butterfly light aromas; pillows shine of satin while incense speaks to spirits. A sea of black plaits sway in tides of black shirts. Black unto black, black blends into night. Frozen dragons snarl from smoky dens where voices of ancestors gather in corners. Painted faces … More SHENG STREET
Roger Singer 