Don’t Fear Your Wild Heart

Don’t fear your wild heart
Out of it come life’s finest treasures
Don’t fear your wild heart
It fuels your most intimate of passions
Don’t fear your wild heart
It makes you feel the highest and lowest compassion
Don’t fear your wild heart
It’s why you’re not numb
Don’t feel your wild heart
It feeds your wildest imaginations
Don’t fear your wild heart
In it,faith,hope and love thrive
Don’t fear your wild heart
It is the antithesis to all that your brain denies
Don’t fear your wild heart
It draws you away from the mundane
To soar higher and graze upon greener pastures
Don’t fear your wild heart
It makes you feel the sharpest of pain
It opens the door for you to change
Don’t fear your wild heart
It makes you feel love’s width ,depth, height and circumference

The most alive people
All posses wild hearts beating passionately, madly , boldly
The most alive people
Have all feared our wild hearts at some point
Then we awoke
After feeling like long dead corpses
We fell into a deep slumber
When we no longer followed our wild hearts
We succumbed to fear
Go on,put your hand to your chest
How fast does your heart beat?
Or can you barely pick up a pulse?
My message
My words
My stories
My poems
Are not for the faint hearted
I come to awaken your wild heart
But that’s only if you want it!

Eva Santiago copyright 2014



Dear Reader, I wrote this post back in 2009 when I had another blog. I wanted to share it since tomorrow is Valentine’s Day…Remember how special you truly are!!VD

Life is messy. Nature reflects the messiness of life. We spend our whole time here making sense of the chaos; ordering our lives so as to try to put a handle on the mess. Life never works out as a neat and tidy Algebraic equation. In math, it all adds up. Follow a prescribed method and WAPA! Problem solved , move on!

Well, life hardly mirrors mathematics. It does have prescribed patterns and formulas. For instance, there are physical laws such as gravity as well as spiritual laws of reaping and sowing. These and a multitude of others are set in place so we may have order in the midst of chaos.

We are taught as children to follow and obey all that is set before us then, PRESTO! We will be successful and have a great life. The more we live though, we all come to the same conclusion; life is messy. The Golden Rule says to treat others as you would like to be treated. The problem is it works sometimes and at other times people can be down right cruel. Then there is the pursue love at all costs and yet again, when we do, we are left feeling stranded at times…life is messy. So, you love someone and you keep loving that person no matter what and they never love you back; another unsolved equation.

Love is never a science; knowledge of facts or principles gained by systematic study. The laws of science dictate cause and effect. For every action there is an opposite and equal reaction, that’s how science works. Love is messy because there are no guarantees; if I love, that does not guarantee that my actively loving someone will cause that person to love me back equally and with the same measure of love. The human heart is an ocean with its shallow areas where we can swim and feel all is well within; don’t worry there are no “be ware of sharks” signs posted. Swim safely. Then there are those areas where the light has never reached; similar to those parts of the ocean where no man ,no camera has ever seen. There IS life in those depths awaiting our discovery. We fear the unfamiliar, so we stay in the shallow parts for our safety. Deep calls to deep and when we hear that call to venture out more, where it’s messy and chaotic, where things simply don’t add up, then we back paddle back to our safe zone. It takes trust to venture out to the unknown recesses in our hearts; to let love into areas that remain in the dark. Love is light; a closed up heart is a heart in darkness. Fear keeps us locked up thereby giving us a false security. The wise man said that out of the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks; we unlock or lock people up with our words; life giving words unlock others and poisonous words that curse keep others locked up as in a cell…solitary confinement. Love requires relationships. Some say, ” I love you but I have a hard time showing you. ” Well, love is easy to spot…it’s messy and all over the place. Picture a little child who was trying to make you breakfast and went on to make a great mess in attempting so. A little dab won’t do you; you have to reach out and take all you can. The more you take then you have more than enough to give to others. So if you take only a little, you’ll only have enough for you and that’s why you say, ” I love you but I can’t show you because I haven’t enough for the two of us.

Love should be celebrated everyday because everyday is a brand new opportunity for love to come into those dark areas in our hearts. People tolerate love because its nature is unpredictable, nerve wracking and annoying, especially when it show up unexpectedly. If we relegate it to a few holidays such as Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and all the minor holidays that fall in between, then love is confined and it loses intensity. Love, REAL LOVE baffles the mind and astounds the senses and it should. God is Love; Love is God. God so loves us, with a messy kind of all over the place love;the kind that was powerful enough to gift us His only Son. He puts His heart on the line for us and the best we can do is love one another and in doing so we are loving Him.

Eva Santiago copyright 2009,2014



God’s Workmanship

I wrote this poem back in 2001. I remember writing so fast because I felt like my pen was going to burst and catch fire if I didn’t move it at the speed that my brain was beckoning it to go. I hope you enjoy it and may it bring you hope!

The Master forever works,creates,perfects
A living canvas
Chooses and mixes the various paints
What starts out in chaos He perfects
With His discriminating eye, He constantly scrutinizes…
The past He obscures in shades of grey
Lest you forget from where you came
In dazzling hues, He accentuates
Those things about you that deeply touch and delight Him
When you’re feeling frustrated and forgotten
The Master is letting you rest
There are layers of paint that must dry-
Deep seated issues that can’t be worked out over night
Tomorrow He’ll pick it right back up
Then there are days of non-stop work
The canvas cries out,” I’m tired! I’ve had enough!”
The Master ignores your pleas
He alone knows when to cease
At times when your fears seem insurmountable
and failure is your constant companion
Rest assured, the plan is always bigger than the canvas
He will work it ALL out!
Those things that hurt you
The wounding you have suffered
He mixes them with dark shades of crimson
Reminding you He’s been there with you
Holding you as you were shamed and mistreated

Alas, The Master stands back
His living canvas is nearing completion…NOT!
This is a lifetime’s work
May the essence of God forever wash on your living canvas!
You ARE His work of art on display!

Eva Santiago copyright 2014



Dear readers, 2014 has begun with a BIG BANG for me! I was able to start my poetry group again. Due to unfortunate set backs, I had to put that labor of love aside for all of 2013. If you knew about my group back in 2012, we called ourselves The Henderson Poets. Now we have assumed a new name: YOUNG POETS REVOLUTION (YPR). We meet Tuesday nights at 7:30 pm at, , the same venue that used to host us as the Henderson Poets. Our mission at YPR: To discover fresh, new voices who have not been heard before or who are struggling to be heard. YPR is open to ALL age groups!.  If you’re in our area, join  my lovely co-host, Elena Isabel Da’Silva and me, as we present  some amazingly talented local poets and musicians in Henderson,NV.ypr2

Eva Santiago, Copyright 2014

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Busy Mind #23

Eva Santiago


Encounter in Illinois



Look where you’re going

Invisible man with a monkey’s paw

In the August heat

Nobody prepares you for this stage of life

When your own blood shoots you dead

Right there, in the wilderness

It’s science fiction and fantasy

The lines are blurred

Where does fantasy begin?

Where does reality end?

It’s a fine line

Betwixt  religion and hypocrisy


We’re at war

Science fiction and fantasy

The blood of the martyrs

Will once again spill into the streets

When a visit to grandma’s

May save your own soul

Where you’ll sit on the old rocking horse

And know you’re a winner


The lottery is fixed

The outcome is fixed

And the young ones will sing

The ballad of the harp-weaver

A ballad from hell-will be the antidote

To break the wicked spell.


This time next year

The raven will come

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Busy Mind #22

Eva Santiago

Midnight’s End

A small crimson velvet pouch

With jewelry from his mother

His only connection to her

He opens it slowly,carefully, apprehensively

His heart pounding inside his chest

Drops of sweat dotting his upper lip

The silent ghost now attempting to speak:

An oval, Art Deco gold locket,

An amethyst ring,

A silver key

His stubby,clumsy fingers stumbling to open the locket

The tiny door to the past flies open

Cradling a curly lock the color of midnight’s end

Holds it to his nose and closes his eyes

Trying to breathe in her spirit

Puts it back in its cradle with utmost care

So as not to disturb the ghost in the grave


Picks up the amethyst ring

Reads the inscription: “Para mi esposa preciosa”

He knows his mother’s language; not the author behind the words

A tear trickles down his left cheek; mixing with nervous sweat

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Busy Mind #21

Eva Santiago

Previous Condition

I woke up shaking

Alone in my room

The gray sheet-a twisted rope

Breathing as if from running

Motionless-for the longest while

Laying on my back-spread-eagle

Staring up at the spackled ceiling

With ear in tune to other sounds from the house:

A teapot whistling

A smoker’s sputum  filled, hacking cough

A long drawn out yawn

My dog barking at the approaching mail man

Ma’s bacon sizzling on the cast iron griddle

In the shower, a girly voice singing Taylor Swift‘s “Mean”

The  soft hum of the 5 blade fan over my bed


I had been dreaming

I woke up trembling-not sure why

The dream’s detail’s eluded me

I was certain I was running

This was recurrent

A previous condition

For a prolonged time; no dreams would come

Then with out notice, they’d return

A whole flood of them- a torrent even

I’d put off going…

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Busy Mind #16

New audience means I can read some pearls I wrote last summer 🙂

Eva Santiago

Banana Fish

Sex is fun-or hell

A ringing phone


Why hasn’t he called her?

They want four hundred dollars

Miss Spiritual Tramp of 1948

Those German poems

Penned by the only poet of the century

Word of honor

In The ocean Room

His wife was horrible

A raving maniac

He needs the sun

Sea glass Beach is his retreat

“Not in my face Baby,” He said.

“Come a little closer,” She said.

He is Capricorn

She is Pisces

“Wanna catch a banana fish?” He asked.

He disrobes down to his swim trunks

The 2 walk down to the ocean

A perfect day for banana fish

Here comes a wave.

Don’t be a God damned sneak!

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013



Altered Book: Nine Stories/J.D.Salinger

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