Category: Writing Royalty

The Kindnesses of the Cruel

· 5 Comments ·

The worst thing in this existence is to not have been seen by the man who claimed to have loved me

You, loved me??

Seriously,do you know what love is?

Love is beyond a feeling

Love is a force

Love gives life

Love is beyond lust

Now do you get it?

True love reciprocates

True love intermingles

True love never hates

I deserve to know

Why you claimed to have loved me

When all I could ever feel was your hate

You bought me things

In attempts to satisfy my larger than life soul

You fool!

You never knew ME!!!

The worst thing in my existence is when you claimed your love for me when you haven’t a clue as to what love is

I asked you for one thing

It wasn’t material

You knew you wouldn’t give it

So you played me

‘Til the day I woke the hell up!

You’re a careless soul

Cruising through life

You drop people and shatter them into a billion bits

You trample them as on a trampoline

People for you are mere objects

The kindnesses of the cruel are oh so cruel

Your kind deeds are always from the dark side

Rendering them null and void in heaven’s bank account

And my whole world didn’t stop because you caused me to stumble

Stumble I did, and for you, I didn’t fall

For I knew who you were from day one

I’d seen you before in all the old, haunted places of my broken past

I chose you because all I knew was broken

And I figured you couldn’t break what was already shattered

I am strong…me you couldn’t scatter

So the worst thing in my existence is having chosen to live with the ghosts from my past;

All of which you so well embodied

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013

 

 

Keep ’em Kids in Line

· Leave a comment ·

You there, in that prison cell

You amaze me

You’re free

Freer than a free man

They put you away

Sent you to the pen

For 7 years

Thinking they could annihilate

Confine

And Destroy you

But you won’t give in to your fears

Yeah I know you shed tears

I feel them in your letters

You shed many tears

But not for yourself

You’re beyond all of that

You did what you did

You’re paying with your time

You know what’s what

The tears you shed

Are all for your children

You committed the crime

You made your bed

Those tears you shed

You hope will keep ’em kids in line.

 

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013

hope1

 

 

hopw2

 

DRYERS ARE EVIL

· Leave a comment ·

I had to post this poem I wrote last night in the hopes to tickle your funny bone one last time this year. My kids and I were having a conversation about dryers and when it was all said and done, I sat down and penned this. Enjoy your last couple of days of  2013!

EVA

Dryers are evil

They conspire

And get clothes lost

They force worn out sock

To early retire

 

Dryers are thieves

They watch you sweat

They watch you roll up your sleeves

I have seen whole shirts disappear

Into thin air

Indeed, dryers are thieves

If you’re a pair of pants

A skirt

A dress

Or a blouse

You should live in fear!

 

Dryers destroy

Turning nice silky panties

Into ugly granny panties

Seemingly over night

Panties that once thrilled your boy toy

Now full of holes

As if attacked by a labour of moles

Dryers are evil!

 

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013

granny panties3

 

 

panties

 

 

Don’t Be Too Good

· Leave a comment ·

Don’t be too good

You may be fucking up

By being too good

Bitter needs sweet

Sweet needs bitter

Show your true colors

Every once in a while

Surprise yourself!

Say what’s really on your mind

Stop crossing your t’s so perfectly

Stop dotting your i’s just right

If you’re like me

You always knew most of your school masters were vain and full of shit

They taught us things from a book

They demanded we pass all their tests

Not knowing they were failing us

Because you see

Every teacher worth his weight in gold knows that to teach simply means to awaken what is dormant

So go on!

FAIL!

Fail big

Fail medium

Fail small

Just don’t be afraid to try

The biggest failure is when you did nothing with your life

The biggest failures try to stop those of us who are trying

The biggest failures were brain washed as children by their school masters who cracked a wood ruler over their small knuckles because…

They would neither dot their i’s nor cross their t’s to perfection.

 

Eva Santiago copyright 2013

 

 

 

 

epic-fail

 

 

 

 

IN MY TIME…

· Leave a comment ·

Too many kids today

Have straight teeth

But crooked morals

People caring too much

Almost obsessing even,

Their little Jimmy-Joe lacks the perfect smile

Little girls getting manis and pedis

When they’d rather be making mud pies and playing in the sand box

Little girls competing in beauty pageants

HOLD ON!!

Wait a damn minute!

If I were from the past

And suddenly awoke from the grave

Come back to earth for a brief spell

What would I think?

The world has certainly gone mad

In my time, famous was the man whose children loved him

Now fathers and children are practically strangers

In my time,the family you built was the legacy you left to your children

Now, families aren’t built with that purpose or intent-they aren’t even built…

In my time, home was where life made up its mind

Now, people live in grand houses surrounded by every creature comfort their hard-earned money can buy

But they forget a house filled with hate,strife discord and anger is hardly a place fit to call home

Eva Santiago copyright 2013

time3

Write Something Terrible and Feel Great!

· 2 Comments ·

Let the poem write itself

Let the words flow through your pen

Open your mind

Let your thoughts come out to play

 

Let the story write itself

The plot is there

The characters already live

Just pluck them from thin air

 

Let the wound heal itself

Give it attention

Give it great care

Let it breathe in fresh air

 

Let the puzzle sort itself

Don’t pick up the pieces

You’ll just make a mess

Don’t worry, time sorts out all puzzles

 

Let the song compose itself

Words have wings

Marry your words to the harmony

Words don’t always need music to sing

 

Be a canvas to the whole world

Let children fill in the emptiness with their vivid imaginations

Let amateur painters blot out the darkest corners with their unlearned brush strokes

Let seasoned artists mold,shape, create

Something from nothing

Definition out of thin air

 

Write something terrible and feel great about it

The best art

Comes from many attempts

So at first when you grab the pen, the paper

The paint brush, the canvas

Don’t worry if you’re gonna fuck up

Truth is, you will

But don’t let that keep you

 

How did we learn to walk?

By first falling flat on our faces

Well, go on then!

Write something terrible and feel great!

Sing and hit the wrong note

And don’t yourself hate

Paint,paint,paint

The canvas doesn’t ever worry

Whether you’ll make a mistake

The stage doesn’t care that you tapped out the wrong beat

Or that once, you had two left feet

The blank pages in the book don’t care about grammatical errors

They trust the writer knows what to delete

So, what are you waiting for?!

Eva Santiago copyright 2013

 

write1

 

 

write2

 

 

 

write3

 

 

write4

 

INCIDENTAL

· Leave a comment ·

Life is incidentally,exponentially accidental

Two people meet

Two worlds that were apart now collide

Driving down a long stretch of ribbon like high way late at night to clear his attic of all the messy cob webs; they talked over the air waves for hours about everything and nothing

Her voice kept him awake

Her voice gave him hope

Her voice soothes his raw nerves, frayed from dealing with life’s random, haphazard incidents all by himself

Why did these two meet?

Who the hell cares!

What matters is that they did

So much is spoken one soul to the other through unspoken expressions

Life is incidentally, exponentially accidental

What if these two had met 5,10,20 years ago?

Would the spark be the same as it is now?

Maybe. Maybe not

5,10,20 years ago they were both very different people-

With different goals

With different drives

Time is everything

If there is a big bang theory;these two should receive the Nobel for having created it

Life is incidentally,exponentially accidental

Look for it

The BEST things in life come about through happy little accidents.

But are they accidents?

Or is it perhaps the universe just having a good time aligning your stars?

-Eva Santiago copyright 2013

universe

th (1)

th

The Displaced

· 5 Comments ·

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

· 2 Comments ·

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

 

poetry-collage1.jpg

 

collage-art-deco.jpg