A full puff of air filled my sail lifting the need of my soul pushing me with lovers hands into up and over settling into my ears oiling my breathing parts nurturing me with the strength of a rushing train heavy on metal tracks rolling with running blowing steam crazy with sound grabbing the crowd … More CRAZY WITH SOUND
What is within a wave? That curled momentary mass of random strength rolling onto shorelines with ancient messages tucked within itself, splashing out languages from somewhere deep. The moon speaks out the highs and lows. The land lifts barriers against the mass of impending force. Yet we find their shape drawing, pulling us into … More LIQUID LANGUAGES
I am a traveler within the space familiar to me. The area surrounding, the region full of what I know best and how I appear to others and myself. This land is of my youth; tree swings, paths toward home and back doors always unlocked. Windows blossom with curtains and flowers pots in need of water. … More THIS PLACE
How deep are your songs? Do they champion the cause you carry? Inside is a passion. The reason for sunlight. The delight of morning to wake you. The day is generous; it’s an empty sack Waiting to be filled. The hope in your breath is the meadowlark waiting to release the music. … More CURTAIN RISING
Voices circled down from a red-brown rusty skeleton framed fire escape. The landings between floors offering an escape from inside heat and crying children. Men with sleeveless t-shirts drink and smoke cigarettes. Young women whisper and then giggle, drawing the leering attention of men in the alley. A cat sleeps leisurely like driftwood. … More RUSTY SKELETON
A gypsy vagabond of notes, refreshing like spring rain, lifted up with the fragrance from warm roads mixed with cut grass, a moment alive with sound from angels as the piano created a language, familiar to itself yet unknowing to many nearby, listening as they would a speech dry from paper, lifeless, missing the fluid … More IVORY FINGERS
The window releases a gasp of inside life, of half voices and doors closing. Delinquent sounds muddy the outside. A car radio lips out a samba, entertaining tapping fingers and flowered dresses swaying. Casual clouds, rugged images cast to the street, sliding into alleys, covering the homeless. Café tables stream with words … More RUGGED IMAGES
There’s a star up there next to the one on the left. Each night, when clouds find favor to be somewhere else, I witness the diamond chip, flashing its carats into my curiosity. Brighter than backyard lights, higher than my sisters hair, it lounges as if glued just beyond my reach. The perfect … More UP THERE
Real time straight jazz curved the room. Its ribbons of play formed justice to notes, releasing streams of fever. Unconnected sounds rush over a landscape of faces and whispering fingers. The pulse of breathing mists the windows as dancers and spirits of long nights course their path to dawn. Red dusted words … More THE PATH
Words slip through the boundaries of light. Between fences and past sleeping cats. Words are the strength of action, the curator of museum imaginations. Words are fathoms, the levels of thought, the passage between mountains, the stillness of lakes. Words are the home we comfort in, the language of warm blankets that … More WORDS
Roger Singer 