He was becoming the ground.
Saturating the soil with jazz sweat
as he loosened the lines to men
and women and the breaths that seek
the flame of him
and the fire shared to ears that hear.
Not the stone blood faces turned
without favor; those burnt out
but appearing alive.
He fingered his hair with long
slow strokes as the strands
fell back onto his forehead.
A voice called his name but
he turned not, more interested
in the sound before him
at the altar he made.
Roger Singer is our most prolific and accomplished contributing poet. Singer reports that he has published 800 poems in magazines, periodicals and online journals — 400 of which are jazz poems — and has recently self-published a Kindle edition of his book of jazz poetry called Poetic Jazz.
“Jazz poetry flows out with such ease,” Singer writes on his blog. “The people and places, the alleys and sawdust jazz clubs. The stories that bring jazz alive with horns and voices, from sadness and grief to highs at midnight and love gone wrong. The jazz is within us all. Find your poem and feel the music.”