Honesty in a poetry performance

If you perform your poetry or are thinking of sharing it in public, please read this thought provoking post!

I attended a workshop a while back on honesty in a poetry performance. As writers, we tend to put the truth or as much of the truth as we can inside our work. As poets who perform, at times we get on stage and somehow the meaning of our writings gets lost in our presentation. The audience doesn’t feel the emotions we are aiming to bring forth because there is a disconnect between what we are saying and the way we are saying it.

The workshop facilitator, RJ Eldridge, asked us to define what honesty is. Among the various answers, someone stated something to the tune of “honesty is fact” (now, that is not word for word because I have terrible memory, but that’s what I got out of their statement). This prompted someone else to point out that honesty is not necessarily restricted to facts alone (and again…

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Fly the Friendly Skies

Have you ever looked up at the sky

There, way up high

Miraculously suspended

The Most amazing of inventions

Held together by nuts and bolts

Painted with pretty logos

Air buses

Taking us here

Taking us there

Taking us everywhere

Tiny windows all in a row

Heads the size of pins looking out

I see you up there

So jealous of you

Looking down at me sitting here

Stuck on the ground with nowhere to go

But you!

You get to fly!

You’ve got your wings

You are free!

I look up at you

Whoever you are

Right now you shine brighter than any ‘ole star

For you have what I desperately want:

Wings to fly

Where are you headed?

Who the hell cares!

At least you’re going somewhere

A funeral?

A wedding?

You just got divorced?

Starting a new life someplace new?

Perhaps you’re headed for college?

Or maybe a long deserved vacation?

Air travel

What a marvelous feat

When I fly

I lose myself in the clouds

Once I wandered into a great white forest

Stayed there for three hours

Another time I played hide and seek with a rainbow

I remember dancing with angels

Careful not to step on their wings

They don’t take too kindly to that

I have ridden on elephant’s backs

And followed the course of my wild imagination

I was six when I first flew

Nothing in life back then made sense

Until I stepped into a jet plane

And there was where I got a clue

That day so long ago

I remember thinking:

Angelic beings were my friends

For the first time in my short life

I felt like a real princess

They served me the food I liked

They gave me nice smiles

They gave me a pillow

Even held my hand when I got scared

I fell in love with the friendly skies

I told the creatures in the clouds:

“I will always come back

So long,

Fare thee well

I’ll return!”

And time after time

Though I wish to fly more often

To the friendly skies

I have kept my word!

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013


The Displaced

To be homeless is nothing more than to be displaced. They are no different from those of us who have a place of our own. They wake up the same as you and me. They need love and affection like you and me. What is to be displaced?

Is it a choice a person makes?

Is is a curse?

Is it random?

Does it choose you?

Do you choose it?

I’ve been close to being homeless at one time in my life. I was kicked out of somewhere to land on some one else’s door-step;only to find out  I was not welcome there either. I  literally had no place to call my own during that brief time. I was displaced because  of my family‘s lack of concern for me. Who of you are bold enough to admit   you’ve been home less at one time or another? It could have lasted an hour,a day, a week , a month or even a year. No matter the length of time,,or for whatever set of circumstances, you know what feeling homeless is like.

The United States of America is The Great Land of Pretenders. When I was displaced, I held a full-time job, I wore nice clothes, I ate everyday. I just lacked my roof. I went to work and wore the same happy face; no one knew of my plight. I pretended all was well with me and kept going because well, that is what one does in the land pf pretenders.

To be homeless mean so much more than to lack a roof over your head at night. In my view, to be displaced is to be without family. Family tossed me out;I ended up living with a bunch of strangers . I was cut off from my rightful place and role in my family. So I struck out on my own;left all those people behind because that’s when I knew I had to forge my path and find my family.

Displaced people wander about looking for acceptance and connection. I sure did. You can be a wealthy person and still merit the title of  displaced soul only because you’ve no family, no ties . No true bonds to family whether it’s your blood or family made of close friends. You can own the whole world and all its treasure but if you have no true connection to another soul, you’re a displaced soul. I have met many in that plight who  were so full of the pride of life and the total sum of their possessions. Yet they had no one who checks up on them at least once a day to see if they’re ok.

In the land of pretenders they teach children everything about the value of material things and nothing about the value of life. Generation after generation children are not shown to pursue love and to attain peace at all costs.

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013

Blind Man’s Braille Part 4

We are all such spoiled brats

Never content with what we have

Always wanting more and more

Seldom appreciating what’s at our fingertips

Always taking for granted what’s in the palm of our hands

We yearn for this, that and the other. If we really took in a flower’s scent in our own backyard;feel the delicate petals, velvety and rich on our fingertips

We’d certainly know we’re all royalty awaiting the great awakening

Show me

Show me

Show me heaven

Yeah, it’s all around

Look in my eyes, you’ll see a glimpse of it

The prince and the pauper

The princess and her toad

We’re all royalty awaiting the great awakening

My beauty healed your beast

Your kiss awakened me from a deep coma like slumber

Run away with me and immerse yourself in the unseen

Behold the light of my torch and you’ll no longer be blind

Run away with me and immerse yourself in my dream

Behold the light of my torch and let me blow your mind

When we first kissed I whispered ,” I wanna lose myself in you…”

Inundate yourself in my being

Indeed, we’re all royalty here!

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013