Philip Santiano

Husband and father. Former member of a religious order. The stories of our lives have already been written. We just need to decide whether or not we want to publish them.

Writings

Followers

Following

Philip Santiano

Husband and father. Former member of a religious order. The stories of our lives have already been written. We just need to decide whether or not we want to publish them.

Writings

Followers

Following

The Serpent Watching Eve

Philip Santiano

1 min read

Even the smallest trees in the garden tower over her, and yet she presumes to be their master. They were there before she was. She does not have the right to pluck the fruit from their branches. That’s not how power works. I know that full well. I was thrown from the sky for reaching beyond my status. Why should she not be punished as I was? Perhaps it is because she couldn’t handle being punished...

Horror

Madeline’s Roses

Philip Santiano

6 min read

Red had always been Madeline Hill’s favorite color, as evidenced by the swarms of deep red roses that famously lined the fence and walkway in front of her lakeside cottage.

She was one of just a scarce remnant of year-round residents in Claymore, Maine. Most of the occupants of the surrounding homes were vacationers who came and went for just weeks at a time in the summer, but even they seemed t...

Drama

Michelangelo’s Moses

Philip Santiano

1 min read

Your greatest beauty is your only flaw;

An intentional imperfection

Inflicted upon you by your very maker.

It was the penalty for remaining silent,

Or perhaps a failed cure for muteness,

But you were never meant to speak.

You are merely a figurehead;

A lifeless incarnation of an earthly mortal,

And not even he was the true lawgiver.

The slated tablets which he carried

Have simply been inscribed in...

Poetry

Mea Culpa

Philip Santiano

1 min read

Lord, I could ask you to forgive me for my pride,

But I can’t be so bold as to ask you that.

I could ask you to forgive me for my dishonesty,

But I wouldn’t be asking sincerely.

I could ask you to forgive me for my greed,

But that might be asking too much.

I could ask you to forgive you for my vanity,

But I would just be doing that to look good.

I could ask you to forgive me for my lack of mercy,

...

Poetry

Heaven’s Inferno

Philip Santiano

1 min read

“Light” is not the proper word

To describe the sun in early spring.

“Light” implies an awakening; an epiphany,

But this is more like a sedative;

A morphine to unburden us

Of the sting of winter.

Within the swaddling stupor

Of its whispering rays,

We abandon ourselves to the delusion

Of hallucinogenic daydreams.

Although, perhaps this feeling is “light” after all:

The aura of enraptured discovery...

The Revelation

Philip Santiano

1 min read

A strangely satisfying mixture of foreboding and enchanting,

A love letter of threats and songs and signs and madmen’s ranting;

Its truth makes up the very fabric of my being and yet it’s mystery escapes my comprehension,

Instantaneous and everlasting as the essence of reality itself that breaks free of all convention,

Too sacred to be touched but still its intimacy dwells deep inside us all,

Stil...

Empty

Philip Santiano

2 min read

Holes are very perplexing. Strictly speaking, they don’t exist. The term “hole” refers not to something physical, but to the absence of something. You cannot create a hole in the ground. You can only remove ground. It is the void that is left that we call a hole.

This is especially true in the case of a hole that is dug for a grave. This kind of hole doesn’t even have the dignity of being dug for...