Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

Home / tree

Bent

Folly is the rakish thought, The waved saber at entropy, That growth would permit A gentle or linear path. No. These shades of today In their antediluvian assertion Stretch pallid beliefs Like worn out skin Across bones aching from experience And each limping step Into tomorrow Quivers with unattended reason, A dogged journey through dust-stained […]

Read More

The limitless game, bred from legions of craned necks, would have this mean something. Have the stark interplay of tangled shadows suggest destiny, breathing, the reach for something untouchable yet forever enticing. Looking for meaning from the sky haunts the sullen and inspires the joyous; yet it’s the flaked shavings of science, excess on the […]

Read More

Each one of these days pounds ego and heart into puddles spilled roadside and forgotten once the air dries. Sun beaten, any sign of pain erases. No splash made, these are the despised hours where an ocean’s weight drowns past promise. The gray was summoned! Greed and desire cracked each dam and then there’s surprise […]

Read More

Draw the wind in as breath, filling the lungs of this broken land, feeding the underground with a chill that threatens to seize all life. It’ll just freeze – death is too merciful – and eyes become frozen puddles staring into the turbulent gray, trapped in a purgatory longing for warmth. Bring back budding youth, […]

Read More

Be my moon. Be my guide in the grain of dark. I can move with you, baby. We can milk the evening of song and breathe in unison under your glow. There’s home ahead, in the confused tangle of circumstance and failure. Light the way, baby. Find a way to bring me there, naked, palms […]

Read More

Adjacent to useless in the dead of frozen light, a cold slab of granite unworthy of a headstone or the pause for which it was crafted. Mistaken placement, or perhaps context changed, avenues widening as interests tangled, branches extending into the choked gray. Steps less common, grins lesser so, the reaper’s season robs dreams of […]

Read More

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 […]

Read More

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. […]

Read More

Beating wings pave the echo of our lost wonder. To fly. To spend a life airborne and in encumbered by the pull of this Earth’s overwhelming weight. To soar and meet the clouds, passing through their false idols and shaking wet from limbs that invaded Heaven. Known triumph, air circles, grows thin, blackens and freezes […]

Read More

Refrain from interrogating the course of things, this stream of rippling mirror projecting upside down worlds of infinite possibility. It’s familiar, the lines of each direction, the flavor of responsibility, the sweet sting of obligation and resultant pride of accomplishment, yet the free fall beckons, unclear of view, but quivering forms of suggestion seducing curiosity […]

Read More

    To see what's what in the world of Santo

    >> <<