Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

Posts By: Jason Santo

Keep going, kid. The old men with their medals polished, their uniforms pressed, pride worn as prominent as the folds of age lining their faces – they all smile at you. You’re the home they fought for; you’re the dream they hoped would be realized as threats grew nightmarish in their view and they stood […]

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The clouds in the puddle. The sky if your mind. I’d give you everything, have given so much, but it’s not enough. I tripped, fell flat on my face and saw the blood of my mistake spray across the finest dreams, tearing them from Heaven like discarded mobile toys; uncared for – under appreciated. And […]

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Every moment now is art. Passively letting days slip away unnoticed in the haze of disappointment and anger is yesterday’s sin. Now the world bleeds onto my canvas by the hour. And I soak it in because the knife spreading its wound wider is this pain, the intense ripping away of of my fingers from […]

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I’m flight. I’m leaves torn by the season’s gale, strewn on the asphalt of your path, your dream. Wasn’t it such a betrayal, the rapid dissolution of cozy afternoons into the flee for company, the mothering of your troops. You always knew the war was coming. It was divined in the passive way you looked […]

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My spirit exposed, a pin-hole camera recording the subtle striations left in mid morning’s wake. Rays of beauty too slight for periphery sorrow, only unflinching hard attention – rebuked affection and a dilated heart. Can you see it? The smallest hint we’re at play in a miracle? Does it matter when you’re off in pursuit […]

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Bent brick, rail thin, rationalized structure in a convex eye. Sinking fast with uproarious tragedies, the kind that allow laughter as echoing ghosts down close wet alleys. Shapes here and there, fleeting in the bounced orange leak of city light rolling overhead; they’re the spirit of our best days lamenting the present with curses. Damn […]

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Hang on. There will be harsh wind and cruel rain. Hang on because letting go will fade us like sun-stained newsprint, our story lost. Cling to me. Show nature your tenacity and weather each graceless intrusion, a sky crowded by the rolling cotton of mistakes, of misunderstanding’s webs clotting all progress, trapping joy in thunderclaps. […]

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My fires burn the sky. They melt air, turning it to a confused tumult the color of an expiring sun. Tendrils of hope stretch for daydreams, but the chorus awakens with its homilies of a false prophet giving saccharine advice. “Heed your heart,” he claims in a sweet, reedy voice, thin as aged wallpaper in […]

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Crisp, grey November. Flatter senses with the death of seasons, seducing with the tightened chill of truncated days. We bundle warm intentions, shoulders bunched and necks made stiff behind scarves of red, orange, brown and black. Candy love promises and chocolate prayers blessed under pumpkin candlelight, absent in the fattening of our need for comfort. […]

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Vincent van Gogh – Starry Night over the Rhone (1888)

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