A river of stairs high above in a galaxy of streams beyond the reach of tearful upturned eyes fails to provoke an affect on order or direction within the heavens. Shadowed gray night images slip between fences and past angry sleeping dogs while pleadings and unanswered prayers attract angels waiting for words that act … More UPTURNED
I got a river standing still in my head. A half a world greets me through wet curtains. Gray walls are my thoughts without color. An old wooden floor talks back to my shoes. A ceiling fan, its life long over, brushes at cobwebs in corners. Newspapers yellow without the sun. Dust is … More FLOW OF DAY
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
The waves whisper a name on ripples of froth rising over wet sand, reaching for a line, receding without despair into advancing waters, breaking into liquid diamonds swirling richly in an ocean soup, beaming under a yellow sun hanging in a blue sky as winds waft wave tops sideways like smoke rising from campfires and … More WITHOUT END
In time, underlined words on paper, the favorites of phrases, become illegible, though not forgotten as our temperature to change thoughts creates undercurrents from a thick darkness within. The answers to our delicate puzzles can be fragile, larger than what there was. Every chance attempted is an epic motion within our history; trying times … More THE MOTH
There is a life in words, forming, releasing, telling stories, opening thoughts, stirring trouble. Like the many hats we wear, the doors we choose or the paths we finally accept. We are souls in transition. Trouble without bruises. A harvest strong with thoughts. We pause for the horse and rider and make way for the … More RELEASE THE HOUNDS
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
The second self of me is the gift unwrapped. The adventure in need of a path. A stone to be dislodged. A bridge that crosses every part, leading to passions and fears. It’s a road without a friendly door or room without a place to hide; My second self forces me to sunlight. I’ll … More SECOND SELF
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
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 