Entries Tagged as 'Roger Singer'

Saturday, January 2nd, 2010

roger singer | the bank of blues and other poems

THE BANK OF BLUES
The color in me knows the blues,
it feels the hands deep pulling
to the surface the song of me.
Can’t wash away or drain out the
fullness crowding my insides
where its standing room only
in hallways and from chairs full of
listeners waiting for the pouring
over of what I got.
A song is a fingerprint, waiting for
horns and [...]

Wednesday, December 9th, 2009

roger singer | the hurt song & other poems

Trio 3 | Oliver Lake, Reggie Workman, Andrew Cyrille | November 5, 2009 Outpost Performance Space, Albuquerque | Photos by Mark Weber
THE HURT SONG
The roots of the hurt song
snares the ankles of me, trapping me
in a tangle; the twisting binds me
tighter as the visions speak.
The arrows of my jazz strikes from
hotel room shadows; strange [...]

Thursday, November 19th, 2009

roger singer | 3 [jazz] poems

Art Pepper Quintet with Bob Magnusson, John Dentz and guest Lee Konitz at Donte’s North Hollywood 1982 | Photo: Mark Weber
NIGHT SPIRITS
It’s a shame
mornings gotta come up with
a bright bleaching, extinguishing the dark,
sending stars into hiding
and the moon to the other side of the earth.
An up sun provides the aroma of
breakfast, drowning out the flavor [...]

Monday, October 26th, 2009

roger singer | a line of strings & other poems

Rufus Reid 1979 | Photo: Mark Weber
A LINE OF STRINGS
A thickness of quiet pulled
the air into slow where it
begged to be filled.
A big muddy of thoughts spread
over the crowd, like the water
they were; wet collars, sweaty palms.
A low tide of moving hands
struck a line of strings,
releasing songs too heavy for corners,
to bright to hide.
The jazz [...]

Friday, October 9th, 2009

roger singer | soaked on jazz | solid wind | with night

John Carter 1978 | Photo: Mark Weber
SOAKED ON JAZZ
Stormy jazz soaks the soul
like water rising over rivers edge,
bringing the cool flush of smooth
to your door.
A slapping bass and talking horn
capture your thoughts like candy
pressed into greedy hands,
opening the eyes to taste.
Piano fingers pull notes
like apples picked red and round
as the jazz worms a path to [...]