Deep within the soft twists of voices the blessings from angels is woven within the thorns of hearts, releasing a blessing of sweet words like manna on sidewalks as day washes over dusky curtains of faces and shoulders. There is no room for wings within crowds where the language of the streets seeks the weak … More ANGEL WINGS
Downwind crossroads are reckless sacrifices. The opening that appears, like a window half open that encourages. The day was without fences or caution. The curtains on your stage are pulled back, preparing for an entrance. Corridors of thoughts testify the betrayal where the eye opening tracks remain quiet now but stir the air, preparing for … More SLIPPING THROUGH
Leaving fails with injustice, darkly sounding without color; a hand waves into smooth waters. The price of finding leaves no opening for escape. Long wishes match winters cold. Favor blesses the angels shedding tears. Shadows rich with song resume passions and promises. Ocean breezes are the appetite for great sails. Dreams speak … More PASSIONS HAND
Thick black locomotives, their sound claiming the air, rumble with earth shaking strength as they conquer their space. Rolling over table top flat tracks the engines breathe in and expel an energy without competition or equal. Its front light opens into daylight and at night sets a beam of warning and ferocity as it moves … More TRACKS OF TRAINS
The moons circled my dark night room, slipping in silent celestial paths until morning forces my separation from sleep. I cast off arms of blankets and wrappings as slivers of morning cross sharply over me. Cool air drifts over my windows ledge, satisfying my room with aroma, stirring the grasp I have yet hooked of … More ONE MORE DAY
Shadow whispers boiled up in the place. Overtures of innocent violence stirred idle fingers. Unbroken sunshine dominated the blue of deep skies. A sediment of faces is a beach of tides. An undertow washes away colors of us, revealing old stains. The street, a hungry animal, searches to devourer, never … More MY FRIEND
He found the door with hands like arrows. He escaped into a cold breathing wind where his footsteps moved in long strides past idle trees waiting for a season To wake them up he walked briskly onto a field cleared of stones by hands long turned to dust as he moved away into shadows under … More JUST MOVING
A low lazy fan struggles through thick humid air; the blades ache with unbalanced rotation. Large dark inviting leather chairs back up to marble pillars in the lobby. They wait like flytraps for listless visitors, absorbing skeletal souls into bottomless comfort. Outside equatorial winds briskly rustle about leaves, ladies hats and satin scarfs. Kenya is … More KENYA
Blue heavens are always open above clouds. Far below voices linger, busily hurrying with little thought of arriving. A flat wax, misty day quiets the travelers holding handles and scratched metal poles, attempting to remain upright as the subway attacks their gravity. Trench coats and book bags sway as cars tunnel noisily through a labyrinth … More TRAVELERS
A trench coat wrinkled with age; rusted buckle, miles sewn to the breast. Lost loves covered by a thick sleeve. A roaring dungeon of dark winds; angry lions scrapping heavens floor. Deep pocketed hands; fingers clenched toward unmerciful giants. Shutters rattle; the song of emptiness. Branches creak like … More ANGRY LIONS
Roger Singer 