its where the pavement ends and road signs are shot to death scattered sickly scrub brush with harpoon needles waits for victims sweeping lizard tail art marks ancient sand, evidence of survival everything breathing or searching for water is the appetite of the desert, a soulless vacuum encouraging the line to be … More COLD VENGEANCE
its where being broken coaxes the spirit to dance to psalms spoken soft while gazing up urging a cloud to spell your name, or form a puffed dog, instead it rains, light drops harmless dribbles, one shape beyond mist with a flat soaking on coats and hats, dripping off to the ground, soaking in, watering … More BROKEN UNDER RAIN
deep river an undisturbed surface an inner turbulence a train without stop the collision of waters the movement of stones and debris, sheltered until exiled to a new under surface depths without light silt from unnamed layers a force casually breaking everything and all things in the path, not in anger just the … More CASUALLY MOVING
forgiveness looks back from the mirror with half smiles, like the lesser wings of angels it’s the time lost, the unscheduled acts of life, trapped in water, with the allure of youth washed out in scars and wounds wrinkles unstoppable speak a visible war of seasons in constant forward motion … More A MIRRORS VOICE
a thought of ink onto paper casual words in a half shell pushing out rain water from the past stories about stories some greater than before others weak or forgotten as more rain blemishes all it touches even the wings of angels who carefully listen
escaping the fire the inside burn of scars sharp word blades wounding bloodletting as courage lines up within marching against rising tides and the instruments we fight a lesson of learn and recover watered over smoldering without damage
falling knives and unmarked graves suspicious eyes serpents and fire cold scales, warm venom on the desert floor as day heat fails to night cold and folds of winds usher in cool flat air like ankle deep water and the pull of tides you run for life with busy feet crossing to safety on the … More DESERT SHORT CUT
we are water within a great river singular not yet seen we move in flocks and herds down roads climbing stairs to doors unfamiliar within a few there is a calling a message scrawled on the heart of a gift yet used we are a great rush of sound over … More RUNNING THE RACE
the bones of words remain behind like rumpled sheets without memory of sleep as day tosses a mixed salad of walking and arriving the hours melt into the water of day time slows for anxious eyes while rain marks windows and umbrellas below splashing on buses sizzling off neon’s coats of color … More FROM ABOVE
The desert a roar of silence bland colors crooked shapes life absent an innocent appearance tempting footsteps and greedy eyes to wander like dust random inspecting overturning a stone looking back or was it there it all looks the same no water no shade lost
Roger Singer 