Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

Home / poetic

My rage is a Hellfire won. It’s prophylactic temerity. Taste this seed where the yawn and ache demand. Be here in the presense of a thousand years of stammering bliss. What the evidence portrays again and again with reckless disregard is that this never mattered; that each and every uttered word, committed action and kindness […]

Read More

Did you know you gave him light? Did you know that in the darkness he aspired to latch onto every subtle nuance of your kind demeanor, your soft tone, the hard edge of reason that you portrayed with a level of approachability and gracious humor that spoke of intelligence and better minds, better hearts than […]

Read More

When she breathed, he felt her. When she laughed, he grinned. In the fantasia of their ardor, she donned a mask but he knew her, could see her, would love her. Their lips were designed to kiss one another’s. And in the hot rhythm of celebration, amid the colors of reveling masses, he took her […]

Read More

Cork pop. Spill. Blood dilute. Like oil in the pooling crimson of a slaughtered deer. Gluttony quakes in rolls of terpitude. Flesh cries for touch, a soul starved. And at night, peril stars careen off track, winking in long streaks as if baiting the lost to keep following. Bliss is somewhere in the endless, but […]

Read More

This structure bitches cross-depth, mortar interrupted like sin on Sundays, the finest structure of faith the loosest kind of failed brick against nature. Arrogance is faith in anything other than roots. Blessings tear at peripheral high-standing. Were there lovers in the cracks then maybe it stood a chance at permanence, but chaos fills like rain, […]

Read More

All lights go out. Whether it’s approaching day mercifully silencing the hum of illumination or simply the filament, the incandescent heart, failing, all lights quit. Quitting. It connotes a decision made, a conclusion reached. If an end is inevitable, maybe giving up is the only control to be exercised. Stick with it and prolong suffering […]

Read More

Covered. Cold. Sin is in season. Disbelief in the evidence. Laid out and direct. Like sunlight on a cloudless day. Blinding. But obscured by the thick frost of derision, that chill of hate for the mirror that can’t crack soon enough. Right there. A blind man could see it and yet, reason vanishes and the […]

Read More

A careless fire, this blister-founded lust chews mercilessly through the dogeared days of apart; of longing for one another in the soft glow of morning, before the hard shadows retreat and stretch and the fight of hours quake minds preoccupied with petty things, the digressions, the supposedly important tasks of responsible souls with rents, loans, […]

Read More

A careless fire, this blister-founded lust chews mercilessly through the dogeared days of apart; of longing for one another in the soft glow of morning, before the hard shadows retreat and stretch and the fight of hours quake minds preoccupied with petty things, the digressions, the supposedly important tasks of responsible souls with rents, loans, […]

Read More

They built cities on the sea. They dared the forces of nature to rest. It was foolhardy, but they laid bricks with confidence, bolted steel with hubris and didn’t care how the ache of tomorrow might hobble their endeavor. It was a lot like us, that boldness, that arrogance. Everywhere there were facts and figures […]

Read More

To see what's what in the world of Santo

>> <<