she holds close the pain careful not to break it like a hunger she feeds it in morning speaking to it at night grieving flows within watering the splinters of thoughts embedded in memories helping her is not easy when the voices attack me I know she’s still alive inside when … More THE VOICES
We are students on the edge roots of voices found like a river consuming broken unedited souls it’s a journey of communion leaning away from the fall tempting mercy under uncertain clouds while feeling like a fallen shingle from the sky there is no center of regret to rest on only a sharp … More COMMON GROUND
The words spoken were like threads thinning at the elbow, deep thoughts from a cold heart with warm hands a story of the distant from here about adding to the next step after the last one taken speaking darkly about alleys cutting between buildings of memories and voices at the clothesline or the … More SOFTLY WE GO
From the fires comes the soil of independence a revolution of being disconnected resisting the effort to conform just to exist while the street calls for a voice and the paper for a pen desire hopes for the stars to align, discovering the balance under a full moon
There are mountains to behold some soft others of granite messages hidden within the folds of clouds some open doors worth forgetting closed ones we forgot to open a watershed of voices replaced by empty chairs by those passing to the other side we celebrated their life favoring the moments while looking … More LOOKING INTO
An unseasonable difference the bouquet of destiny crowded within the magic of sleep the region between unknown footsteps unsure voices while the fullness of gravity prevents the ability for touch this unexplained element of drama remains bazaar where particles of words raise the curtain on another morning
Graveside flowers bless the unholy standing by looking down curious about the passage through the path yet taken by the living the name now on stone to live longer than the soul beneath the trees nearby watching over changing seasons absent of sympathy for this and others and memories of names on cards and voices … More LAST TIME
Walking the dream on legs without stars a release drives within like seasons changing from equatorial spinning pushing us against celestial misgivings of unanswered prayers where whispers and voices strain through burlap separating the living from storytellers as miracles wait to be called out from hiding.
Back roads of dust break into my dreams, dividing me. I fall into waters of the past; temporary ground with shallow allotments of time. Like ships running aground, I relive fleeting sections of thoughts wrapped in vines of voices. It’s all a stage of featured impulses holding center court, like lyrical messages on the shorelines … More INTO THE CENTER
The river is a testament to longstanding, a continuation without interruption the river possesses beauty and strength its banks dappled with brush and half buried trees velvet smooth water the veins of flow to the oceans heart feeds on silt from fields and ancient meadows its motion is a voice it … More RUMBLING
Roger Singer 