Words slip through the boundaries of light. Between fences and past sleeping cats. Words are the strength of action, the curator of museum imaginations. Words are fathoms, the levels of thought, the passage between mountains, the stillness of lakes. Words are the home we comfort in, the language of warm blankets that … More WORDS
VORTICES Feral tongues rise in whispered shades. Nighthawks lift in dark air making fair game of evening space. The time of planning fills the room, settling on the first sigh of sleep until dreams slip to the floor. Long talks have little effect on what actually gets done, as words spin in … More VORTICES
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 life in words is the poem yet created. An unrefined treasure, a stone of beauty desperate for cutting, a tree to be pruned. It’s a labor of decision until the pen strikes open the curtain of memory and a visionary dream bursts to the surface under curious hands. Songs of souls live on the … More RELEASING WORDS
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
Words tumble. Catching one out. Proving a point or wounding a heart. Dark storms brew within the thoughts. Like a rising tide flowing out quick to sooth or heavy with pain. In the corner of the mind where shadows whisper, comparing and dissecting ideas and dreams preparing a path for words going out. Even at … More BUILDING BLOCKS
Roger Singer 