I am a prisoner of dreams. My thoughts, stripped from time, drift me into shadowed corners. The gray and white melt from day, opening at night where eyes are teased by desert spirits. The rocks of memories are filled with ancient colors. Rivers pull at me, oceans lick my ankles. My voice is underwater, agonizing … More UNDERWATER
There was a glass reflection of sky and overhanging branches as we passaged down river, slipping through calm water; an excursion through nature’s lyrics. Each wide corner revealed another portrait in perfect color; small gatherings of birds swept silently above. There was a balance. A quiet tempest of greatness. An undercurrent of power not seen. … More EACH CORNER
It was a canvas with voice. Tight and constrained. Earth supported with a dampening sky. Gold leafs brightened from a silver candelabra. Birds cold gray and three flowers in need of water. Shadows from a forest with blue trees. In the center a precocious muse. An expression to beguile those with whispering gazes and questions. … More MUSE
Fractional sunlight pressed through gray mist clouds like thieves stealing between headstones. A ribbon of water separated the road from an outpost of evergreens; a creation of serious lines and rugged beauty. It was a favorite place, untypical, not easily replaced nor forgotten. The ground was resolved to hold theses treasures close to … More A PROMISE TO HOLD
There was an unwillingness of movement. A stretch like tree tops in a tempest. A few indistinguishable words slipped clumsily into the air. The visions were intangible; the ones you think you touch but fail to feel. It was a spirit dream, a celebration of aesthetics. A temporary creation of interior thoughts like running … More OPEN UP
I settled down, though briefly and had a think, like when water becomes ambient, not warm or cold; placid while reshaping an outcome. It was a must, a brush with orderliness, creating the back end before leading the pen to water. It became a flower moment, an opening as if sun touched, bringing … More CREATION
There’s an island I feel in my dreams. A safe current with abundant sun, providing energy without resistance. An open front door offers promise. A bouquet of flowers sits on a hallway table; circling white fans refresh incoming ocean breezes. White sands encourage me and waves orchestrate a welcome. I walk into the water as … More THIS PLACE
It was a basement apartment. Concrete steps without a handrail. Faded blue chipped plaster walls. There was an aroma of stagnate steamy air and garbage. Light bulbs hung from brown wires. Echoes of dripping water. Heavy footsteps in the hallway above. Pipes ached from sending hot water to the floors above. The furnace growled with … More DOWN BELOW
There’s a mirror that reveals the truth and an hour glass with a voice. Dripping water tells the story, where long tracks hide distant whistles. In the background the earth groans and the trees are its gray hairs. There’s a feast on the table, on the other side of the best door. It’s improbable to … More SAFE COMFORT
It’s the anxious part of me, working to find a home for my thoughts. Cataloging single words while they circulate like carousel horses waiting for the run to the barn; verses change the menu of how I speak. I avoid the company of well wishers, praising the moment, ignoring the spirit. They feast on … More MIGHTY STREAMS
Roger Singer 