I vision a place safe without loss, the beginning of new, the opening on all sides where anyone can relax and sing. It’s a shadow of a place, harbored beyond envy and hate, turmoil and strife. It’s the next train with an open boxcar. A bus sounding loud on a dusty road. A car with … More OUT THERE
The press of air lays flat onto me, drying my sweat on a life of skin, the surface flavor of salt, the product of my drifting released to run onto my face and arms, its paths random like the day of wandering under city shades and shadows from trees and buildings where streets warm with … More NIGHT BLANKETS
Streets feed on the language of cool and jive. Tongues of curtains slip from sides of windows as if pointing with their curves with creases to music like steam rising in waves over blacktop rumbling energy the sound moves pressing against doors and into alleys as night encourages the people … More STREET LANGUAGE
Liberal portions of sun releases through an open window chasing out room shadows like thieves on the run. A light teasing wind stumbled into bushes, stirring leaves like loose sand sliding over paper. A cat sits looking out. Birds see him, calling out warnings. Flying quickly like passing storms. He watches with metronome eyes waiting … More 9 AM
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
Celestial curtains cover him with a design of plenty. He breathes alive the bass, jazzing the room with engine pulsing sounds. . His hair is black and thick, like obsidian crystals crushed from stars. The beauty of his face and voice release like midnight bats carving the sky. Highways of angels step up, securing a … More JAZZING UP
FROM HIS SOUL The bass player was full of the night and shadows of dark. Emotion spirits jumped from the strings sliding into ears where bones rattled In a storm of winds running wild from his fingers a picture of jazz twists from his soul.
A door slams with a rattle into night. Footsteps pass. The sound of a stranger. A face unknown. The high tide of whiskey and smoke soaks the shorelines of sidewalks As a city lowers its night curtains. Tipped hats and high coat collars wade the flow through streams of streets. Street lights. Fallen stars. Harbors … More STREET LIGHTS
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
From the chairs faces brightly shine like early Sunday clothed to watch and rightly bathed in song and word like baptisms sprinkled fresh over righteous hungry souls. Her jazzy words float like flowers cast on oceans where souls rest far below where lonely ears patiently wait to be freed. … More HER JAZZY VOICE
Roger Singer 