I Am Santo

Fiction, poetry, music and mindscape pictures by creative artist Jason Santo

The threat song undulates like a to-term child in the womb, its definition complete, lyrics like limbs scraping from inside, punching and kicking for birth. Hold it in. That fire and melody, that rhythm of the darkness, the thudding black purge that desires to evacuate, needs escape. Move and sway under new moon struggle, the shred of pitch appointing moments with discordant ringing. Is there someone lending voice to such longing, someone aware of this failed aspect lurching low in morning like a welping mutt struck and rib-broken under the fierce boot of ardor? Fucking dog, pained and dragging the filth of hunger into a pantheon of scabrous loathing; the weak voice pleading, needing, seeding the indecent compromise of well-wishing and fawned platitudes that gurgle up instead of the bile burning at the back of the throat. Kick. Bring that hurt and let the funereal dirge of Hades echo down shadow-lined hallways that flit and shudder in twilight hope swept up by the faithless wind of night’s birth. Arisen, the child of desecration and tear-stained restraint cries in the shrill language of rage; the torment of choked breath a chorus of fetid harmony. Delivery a release, the joy of an inferno is brief, blistering catharsis that writhes and screams; quickly haunted by the cold ash of affliction.


#poem #poetry #poetic #igwriters #instawriter #writersofig #poetsofig #igpoets #igpoems #mobileartistry #creativewriting #fiction #flashfiction #writing #writer #story #shortstory #microfiction #poetrycommunity #igwriters #freeverse #silhouette #phoneart #shadows #chiaroscuro (at Mute)

Let’s keep our fingers knotted, baby.
Like the briar wrapped under the moon
Let’s give in to the urge and swoon
And sway to our own private tune.

Let’s put ourselves together, baby.
We knew how to once before
When our future held much in store
And affection lived at our core.

Let’s kiss like we used to, baby.
It’s so easy to remember how
Just let that lust in for now
Your pleasure still my vow.

Let’s breathe and grip and sweat, baby.
Let’s take down these walls we’ve built
Let’s crack Heaven like the sinners we are
Let’s die a little in our filth.

Let’s not, you’ll say,
your eyes turned away.
Let’s carry on as we do,
We are different now
Lit differently somehow,
no longer me and you.

Let’s stay focused on tomorrow
where we don’t exist
Because your lips do not belong
On my thighs, my waist, my wrist.

Let’s be friends then, baby.
Because now we’re almost done
In the sherbert spill of sun
Our hearts have stopped their run.


#poem #poetry #writing #writer #poetic #creativewriting #igwriters #poetry_addicts #literary_imagery1 #igpoets #igpoems #mobileartistry #shadows #sky #night #moon #trees #woods #moonlight #shadow #branches #dark #rhyme (at Let’s)

She dips low, beauty ducking from view with flare and golden offerings, and the world sinks into the cold waters of shadow. All things fade from her light. Though she gifts everything life, it all recedes from her as rot and wilt. Were it only possible to keep her shine on failing skin and mind. Were it only possible for land to prosper under constant glow and not suffer through her absence. To occupy a realm dispelled of shadowy figures crowding shorelines, throttling fields and conquering mountains in their lonely dark; it’s the dream of constant affection, a fiction where deserts thrive with life and her blessings rain down without the need for balance. To appreciate her is to allow her release, to lie waiting for her return in the frost of her desertion and be thankful for memories of how she flooded days with warmth, care and nurturing light. She’ll return again, leave, surprise, burn, soothe and spin away, yet always back to chase away fears of her flight until the one day she arrives, fresh and bright, and shadows stick like oil in feathers, limbs unmoving, flight stolen, air still. She smiles in her dawn regardless for she always smiles. And her lovers reach for her, fragile death at the edges of her kindness. #irispad #day18 #sept18 #shadowy #shadows #dusk #reeds #pond #sunset #orange #gold #day #daysend #poetry #poem #sunlight #sun #writer #writing (at Don’t Go)