I Am Santo

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

Triumphant as rivulets,
They’re only so good as one.
Beautiful? Sure.
But progress isn’t easy
On the slow side that’s alone.
The dragged down.
The fallen.
The desperate stretch for another
To collapse into,
Connect,
Pool together
And conjur the merciful wet
Reminding the numb
Of alive,
Of breathing.
Merge and curl,
Supple flesh heaving,
Muscle tensing,
Mouths joined
in an ecstasy of together.
Sex hot, awake
Yearning in bared teeth,
Fingers flexed,
Nails drawn and pulling
Across the back,
The sweet faith,
The hope
Sung in the clipped breath
Of climax,
Of salty release
And convulsive satisfaction.
Sweet smiles
Beading together,
Running down skin
Like the runoff of effort,
Like the wander of drops
When they discover together.

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#poem #poetry #poetic #igwriters #instawriter #writersofig #poetsofig #igpoets #igpoems #mobileartistry #creativewriting #fiction #flashfiction #writing #writer #story #shortstory #microfiction #poetrycommunity #igwriters #sensuality #droplets #raindrops #rain #beads #waterdrops #water #macro (at Beads)

Going wonder. Going. Growing. Gone. Grown. Joy lifted. Elevated. Pushed Heavenward. Debuted in the summer haze. Cured by the winter chill. The crawl into age and ownership. This world. An inheritance of debt and worry. How youth colors it. How it’s forgotten. The melody lost. What a tune. Such ear candy. Not lost. Shunned. Stored away. Too close to the heart to throw away. Stuffed animal hugs. Dogeared first reads. Antiquated worn furniture. Refuse. Left. The burden of years. Compounded. Awake. Diluted. The purity days. The laughter. The uncompromising hours. The filth. Undone youth. Spiraling loss. Hold on. Just hold on. There. See it? There. Squeeze it. Never ever let go. There. It’s you. It’s youth. There. Going. Leaving. Hold on. Gone.

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#poetry #poet #writing #writer #creativewriting #literary_imagery1 #poetry_addicts #poem #story #storytelling #writersofinstagram #igwriters #child #children #childhood #play #spout #water #sprinkler #fun #joy #happy #kids #summertime (at Joy)

My sea is the sky – the crests of waves, clouds, the currents, turbulence. I’ll scale fathoms, grip a handful of atmosphere and taste the salt of it in my palm before I ascend leagues to the depths of thickest blue, the threat of black surrounding every judgement. I could hoist those dark cares as if they were weights many times greater than any I have known. So live in the paltry excuse for forever? Are we all included? Or must we discover no gains for love. For me, that’s when I need to be drawn out to sea, adrift in the vast blue of senseless abandon! But I’m a crow without a murder, and my wire threatens our journey to the gray areas obscuring crystalline skies. #sky #clouds #tugboats #portsmouthnh #water #harbor #poem #poetry #writer #writing (at Set Free)

I want to melt with the day. Feel the cascade for her leaving, the drip of hours down the bumps of my spine. Clear my head of obligation’s webs, threads of gossamer duty spun to mighty ideals that crack my knees; lower my head. It isn’t too late to forgo this mission. A tiny rebel under forced night, I cater to whimsy and flash decadent preference even as the world floods with purpose. To drink from you would be divine, and to allow your wet to bathe me in calm is the worthy surrender. Yet I steel myself in order. I flatten dreams into the press of belonging, and I sing hymnals to join the chorus, wanting to stand out like a cloud on a clear horizon; a flaw in heaven’s design. #dusk #sunset #river #water #reflection #trees #clouds #sky #writer #writing #poem #poetry #dovernh #literary_imagery (at Between Haste and Indifference)

Tranquil horizons melt under gray turmoil, and verdant lands stretch, yawning, to recharge under inclement rolls of curdled breath. Dusk silenced by the kettledrum calls of approaching fervor, the gasp of saffron light conducts leaves to open, legs to spread for the welcoming flood. Storms exact quivering lips, tensed thighs, great exhales from starved lands searching for reawakening. Succumbing is the art of greeting life’s bounty. #irispad #day11 #sept11 #recharge #photoaday #nature #bay #marsh #portsmouthnh #storm #dusk #clouds #sky #water #calmbeforethestorm #sundown #stormclouds #poem #poetry #writer #writing (at Ready for the Flood)

Well don’t they dip and dive, these benevolent souls craving rich desire? Sinking, undulating, blending sex and soul as if smoke in airless rooms, tendrils of need wrapping into each other as ribbons on gorgeous gifts. They thrust and kiss, succumbing and urging, each an overlapping double exposure on a single canvas, flooding channels with lust and peerless disregard for sensible art. Why censor when the profane begs utterance? To die is to relinquish life, dissipate into the greater body of these endless days and flirt with galaxies unraveled into delicate streams of dust. Gripping tender skin, unleashing moans and sighs in equal measure, flexing muscle and id hungrily, fingers in mouths, tongues lavishing attention. Known fates are whispered jokes among selfish Gods, and we trip and tremble in the wake of their laughter. #irispad #day5 #sept5 #double #exposure #smoke #water #milk #glass #art #blue #red #contrast #poem #poetry #writer #writing #literary_imagery #spirit (at In the Mix)

I want to see your words, not hear them as they fall from fast lips and quick tongue, but watch the soft waves of them as they travel through air, rippling across time, ricocheting off walls and misgivings. Solid words, splashing into oceans as if concrete blankets, fiercely protective, gentle, yet diving with unstoppable force and plummeting to ever more treacherous depths. Hanging onto them will drown chaotic hearts, the resolved mind only prepared for the pressure. Sound sinks, but breaks waves in the smallest spaces. Ears remain vigilant, but eyes dream of catching tsunamis of promise whispered through leagues of tumult, raging seas of disbelief. #irispad #sound #soundwaves #water #glass #ripples #yeahthatwastough #glass #soft #writer #writing #poem #poetry #literary_imagery #voyecomp

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 with crooked grin and exposed skin. Diving into the blue means drowning or rebirth, and security demands lock-legged obedience. The sun rises to darkness, stars lost in a reflected blur obscuring detail, a lack of definition so alluring that swimming cannot be denied. Embracing tides, chilled by wet rushing, air secondary to a newly adopted nature, new days start with the plummet of a shimmering sun. Safer to watch and dream liquid release. #irispad #upsidedown #reflection #tree #river #dovernh #sunlight #sunshine #lensflare #beautiful #nature #poem #poetry #water #writer #writing (at Dover, NH)

Bending light as greedy lovers would their bodies in heated union, flashes of electric brilliance glimmer unpredictably. Submerge mind in body in this rapture, soak in every moment of her stinging chill, air rushing from shocked lungs as eyes press shut and ears mute from the world’s hurry. Sensual paradise, breaking to the surface, draw in new breath, stand, uncurl as rippled light and collapse into her embrace again, renewed. #water #light #sunlight #ripples #summer #words #poetry #writing #waves #artiseverywhere #swimming #love

Sweat

Crystalline precious drips from a chalice of cold honor, a bounty for the thirsty, the gift for greedy eyes drunk with visions of perfect satisfaction. Lips brush cool delicacy and draw forth the heat of passion, an awakening of liquid limbs made stiff with ardor. Drink from this. Wet lips and smile, undone. Wrap arms around electric tremors, seize reflection and dive into certain bliss.