What if We Are the Same?

This is a tribute I wrote to my mother who passed when I was an infant. When I share it in public, I still tear up after all these years…


“Oh, she died so young!”


Who are we to tell?

Not one of us knows

Our day

Our time

Or even our very last hour

So isn’t that declaration a bit pompous?

What if it was her time?

I used to be sad

I used to lament

Oh si mi madre paso..

She was way, way too young!


What if perhaps she DID sing all of her songs

And didn’t leave any unsung?

What if she did complete her assignment by giving me life?

What if she made her exit

So I would have a grand entrance?

What if she walked off the stage

So I could be a strong voice for this age?

What if she did her last painting

So I could fulfill my purpose and destiny without fainting?

What if she held me close once

So I could hold others forever?

What if my cheek she one time caressed

So I could with my hands touch the oppressed and depressed?

What if she and I are one and the same?

She went before me

So I can forever her love proclaim….

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013-2014







I Crashed a Funeral

Funerals are odd

They stir deep things

Things we seldom want to ponder

Some think on the Good Lawd

Others silently wonder, Am I ready to meet Him?

Some wish it were their time

Others record it like some kind of bizarre film

Some regret

Others lament

Some wish revenge

Others weep with fists tightly clenched

Some cry silently

Others loudly,openly beating their breast

Some look on in fear

Because death reminds us

She is always ever so near

Some reminisce

Others look on in shame

Some are quick to dismiss

Anything dark they might be feeling

Instead of embracing and accepting

Some are in shock

Being eaten alive by the sudden trauma

Refusing to play their own role in the unfolding drama

At funerals every single person plays a role

It is the most alive time some people will ever dare be

The starring role usually goes to

The grieving,closest relatives of the dearly departed

That is where all the attention is focused

While the rest of us grieve with the broken hearted.

The minister’s role is perplexing

I’d not want to be in his shoes,pants or suit

He’s given the charge:

Bring in the peace

Say words to keep everyone calm

Speak as if you knew the newly dearly departed

Help out the family who is terribly broken hearted

The minister plays several roles:

He’s a play write-makes sure his words are good and tight

No room for loose,sloppy writing

Or wandering,meandering words

That will make others feel unsure

No ambiguity, otherwise people will feel insecure

On him rests a heavy burden

AT death’s hour

No one likes feeling uncertain

So he’d better deliver by golly

Or people will feel he’s a fake

One slip of his pen

And they may burn him at the stake

In a funeral,even a stranger

has a role to play

People crash weddings all the time

Ever crashed a funeral?

That stranger sure did

That stranger was me

I was not personally known to the newly dearly departed

Certainly not a stranger to death,though.

Death is my old friend

She’s hung out with me through out my whole life

She first came and took mi mama

I was a tiny wee lil babe

Then she came for mi papi

I was just 2

She used to scare me for a very long time

Then one day I grew up

And learned she was no foe of mine

I’ve been to more funerals

Than I’ve been to weddings.

Weddings: Such fun,joyous,happy affairs

Funerals: Just completely the opposite

As they ought to be so

But we get selfish at funerals

Let’s face it folks:

We turn inward and think of ourselves

We think on our lives

We certainly hope our children will out live us

And not the other way around

At funerals: “What about me”

Is always clearly visible

On everyone’s face

Funerals remind us how short our time really is

Funerals remind us of our place

So if you’re feeling glum about life

Go to a funeral

By the wayside falls everything trivial

That’s where you know what’s real.

Eva Santiago copyright 2013

Death is B-Rated

Death is barely tolerated

Death is seldom celebrated

People cheat death everyday

No one ever claims they cheated life

Death is berated

Much akin to those poorly scripted b-rated films

Death is diminished

When it comes unexpectedly

Because some one’s life ended unfinished

An unfinished life:

Now, that’s such a truly sad tragedy





Un dreamed

Un done

Under lived

Under established

For all these reasons

And for probably a hell of a lot more

Death is barely tolerated

Death is seldom celebrated.

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013


Wipe Away the Tears

Why oh why is it

The long departed

Visit us in our dreams?

Do the get lonely for us?

Do they miss the good times?

Do they try to correct a wrong?

Do they try to warn us?

DO they miss talking with us?

Mark Twain penned: “What a man mostly misses in heaven is company.”

Sounds legit don’t it?

Could heaven ever feel lonely?

Would we be sad and miss some body?

Oh, every tear will be wiped away!

Believe that!

Used to think ther’d be no tear spillage in heaven

There’s no promise of that anywhere

Just saying tears won’t be shed everywhere

Some one will be there to wipe them away

When the vastness of that place

Causes us to feel small

Some one will come to wipe our tears away

‘Cause heaven aint like here

Heaven is a place where we cry-

But in our weeping,we’ll not be alone

Here we run away to cry

Afraid to let anyone in

Here we cry in shame

We cry and cry and we still feel the same

There we cry

And some one will be there

In heaven our tears are collected

In heaven our tears count for prayers

In heaven not a single one of us is neglected…..

Eva Santiago copyright 2013


An exit

Far exceeds an entrance

A child is born

A second of everyday

A person expires

A second of everyday

Birth is a great miracle

And so is death

Yet we celebrate life way more

Let’s see how this goes

Please, come with me and let’s explore

To be born is to be wide awake

For a few days,weeks, months and years

To die is to sleep

TO slumber and dream forevermore

And yet we fear what we don’t know

An exit far exceeds an entrance

Birth brings a fresh start

We’re all so hope-full

When we take in a baby’s beauty

We wonder what will be

We wonder what’ll be stored

In that fresh face-in that new heart

All our days are numbered

Even before we lived one

We seldom think of that at the start

Birth brings a fresh start

As does the death of the dearly departed

For you see, they get to start anew

In another place

In another time

Where the old is forgotten and everything’s new

Eva Santiago copyright 2013


It’s a Mad,Mad,Mad,World!

She’s twerking-

in front of the masses

Her adoring fans look on

Some in disgust

Others just guffaw


MTV is not for music anymore

Mom and jackass TV is more like it

Young teens having babies

And the media glamorizes it


Ben Affleck will be the next Bat Man

Is splashed across the internet

Is the head line maker

Really? Seriously?! Who the hell cares!


Meanwhile mid night raids are happening

In remote,far away places

Drones taking out villages

Villagers killed in their sleep wearing expressionless faces


It’s a mad,mad,mad world!

The media wamts us all dumb

It’s a mad,mad,mad,world!

They want us all on prescription meds-looking and feeling glum


It’s a mad,mad,mad world!

Don’t trust mary the iguana

She’ll kill you

She’s the gate way drug

Like the Pied Piper of Hamlin

She’ll lead your children astray


It’s a mad,mad,mad, world!

When men call evil, good

When men call good, evil

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013