BEAUTIFUL BLOGGER AWARD

 


SUNDAY AUGUST 19, 2012

 

I’m not the surest of how these awards work, but I think I was nominated for one…so here goes!

What I heard was,

1. Put the award in your post.

2. Thank who nominated you. 

3. Say 7 things about yourself.

4. Nominate more people! (Some say 7 people, others say 3 or 5 or otherwise.)

THANK YOU  : http://jaimeeblog.wordpress.com

Beautiful Blogger Award

I hereby nominate this blog for the Beautiful Blogger Award!

http://twitter.com/estherstar139

 

 

Congratulations!!!

Anybody who is everybody should check out this blog, it’s good reading!

Finally, Seven things about me:

1. I love traveling.

2. My favorite time of day is the early morning.

3. One time when I was little, I flew on a jet by myself when I was 6.

4. I want to go to the next Olympic Games in Brazil!

5. I love to dance!

6. I’m closer to getting my 2nd book published by Tate Publishing, SALSA! THE TASTE OF LIFE

7. I strongly dislike negative people.

365 Snap Shots of Life: Day 229

HOLA!! Here comes yet another edited poem that didn’t make it into my new book, SALSA! THE TASTE of LIFE which will be out in a little while. I wrote this when I was going through a rough spot of feeling as if life were passing me by. I sat down and this poem just came gushing out of my pen and unto the pages of my journal. I felt so good after I finished it because I took it as God comforting me and letting me know He never forgets me. I hope this soothes you as it did me  🙂 HUGS!!!!

Your Tears

The wind howls outside,

“Won’t you let me come in?”

It beckons: “Follow me!

Girl! Get up and at ‘em!

Your life IS passing you by.”

 

 

The wind howls outside my window;

Knock, knock, a knocking on my resistance.

Whispers ever so cunningly,

“Surely there is somewhere way better.

Won’t you find out?”

 

 

The wind, it blows in my ear;

a strange lover seducing me with sweet songs:

“You are too good for this, Mujer.

You deserve BETTER.

What are you doing just giving your life away,

for the sake of others?

No one does THAT anymore!”

 

 

The wind scolds me;

I feel it, a whip stinging my raw emotions—

¡Estupida! When are you going to learn:

In this life, nice never pays!

GO! Find your way.

GO! Get your life back.

You should’ve never thrown it away, ¡Tonta!

 

 

“Be still, mi alma!”

 

 

Silence…

 

 

Uno, dos, tres…

 

 

Here comes the gentle breeze,

the one who doesn’t knock me around,

rocks me gently to and fro.

Sweet, sweet lullaby in the night;

I fall deep in a restful slumber,

only to wake up to your gentle caresses.

The lover of my soul whispering to me,

“You are my girl, the one I lose sleep over.

The one I weep for as I pick up your tears

and collect them in this flask,

and with which I bathe my face.

 

 

Your tears are the fragrance I wear.

Never stop shedding them;

I gave them as my gift, so your heart can be healed.

In my world, nothing is wasted,

Not even one single tear.”

 

One day I will show you

what your tears have done.

For now I will tell you,

every single tear you’ve shed,

since the day your heart broke

for the very first time.

I stored your tears in a safe place;

as a rich man hordes gold.

 

 

Your tears have set the captives free,

watered thirsty travelers.

Your tears have nourished dying souls,

and watered many gardens.

Your tears have brought conviction,

turning stony hearts into repentant souls.

Your tears have set one thousand to flight,

and dispelled irksome fears.

Your tears have turned the dry arid desert

into a beautiful oasis where many come,

from near and far, to rest,

before continuing their journey.

 

 

And your tears now fill a vast ocean

that teems with life,

because when you gave away yours,

it was so I could give you something better.

 

 

From a child they forbade you to cry,

because your tears make people feel-

something people don’t want to do anymore.

I designed you to feel…that’s why you weep,

because hard hearts are dry hearts,

who are all bitter and brittle.

“My daughter, my child,

I gave you a lamenting heart:

A fountain, a reservoir full of living water.

when you weep, my river of living waters flows,

through you…my vessel of honor.”

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2012

365 Snap Shots of Life: Day 228

Sometimes we think that our purpose is  some big thing we have to do before we leave this life. I think that even though a lot of us are called to do great, amazing things with our lives, others of us are called to be amazing and great in different ways. I love to make people laugh and if I can make one person smile even for a second, it makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something wonderful. If I can get you to forget about your troubles for a single second just because you stopped by my blog for a few minutes and read something that uplifted your spirit, then the purpose for this blog existing is done!  

My oldest daughter has a great sense of humor and she loves to walk into stores and do goofy things just to get the store employees to laugh or smile. One day we went to the 99 Cent store and she walked up to the sales clerk and asked him to show her where the diet water was. He looked at her a bit bewildered and she kept a straight face. Then he broke into a smile as he took her to the water aisle and showed her all the water varieties. By then we were all laughing and so was he. She then told  me she had done her good deed for the day.

 So here are some wacky pics for your Wednesday!  I am doing my part, now you do yours and do something to make another soul brighter! 🙂

365 Snap Shots of Life: Day 227

I ‘m back! I took some days off to rest after a family ordeal. All’s well that ends well I say 🙂 Where is my book?? That’s what I’d like to know 🙂 Seriously, the last stage seems the longest and the hardest of anything including the publishing of a book. So here is another preview of Salsa! the Taste of Life. This poem I edited out of the book and I hope you enjoy it. Smile and keep smiling because it makes your enemies nuts!

The Five W’s

Everyone has asked,

What are you?

What can you do for me?

Who are you?

Why are you that way?

Where did you come from?

When are you leaving?

 

 

Then you came along,

You didn’t assault me

With all manner of intrusive questions.

You said, “Eres mi hija. You are my daughter.”

That’s all I want from you,

Don’t matter who you are,

You’re one of mine now,

I love you…

Just the way you are.

I know where you came from,

A place of sorrow, torment and pain.

I know so

Because I too have been there before:

Familiar with peace of mind,

Also aware of what it is

To feel like you’re going insane.

I know who you are,

You’re one of mine now;

Doesn’t matter who, what, when, where why or how.

 

 

Thank you for taking me in,

For not bothering me with the five W’s,

For being what I need,

For giving me what I crave:

A feeling of belonging.

Though I’ve buried many things in a grave,

You are heaven sent,

To help me heal, find and restore.

I’ll never ask you

For anything more,

‘cause what you do

Is a perfect gift

From heaven above.

Te amo! Te quiero! Te adoro!

Thank you, siempre, for your unconditional love.

-EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2012

365 Snap Shots of Life: Day 221

Hello readers! I was away for the past few days and I missed blogging! It occurred to me that the edits I’ve shared so far from my up coming book, SALSA! THE TASTE of LIFE, are mostly poems. I don’t want you to think that this book  is a volume of poems only. It is a volume of mostly short stories and some poetry. I had to edit out more poems and less stories. So I will give you an edited story from my book, to give you a taste of my story telling. This story I wrote based on an experience I had when I was a young teen living with my uncle in Germany.  I look forward to giving you more tastes of SALSA! As you read this keep in mind that I thoroughly look forward to your feedback, so comment away! 🙂

March17, 1981

Dear Diary,

Today, a most peculiar thing happened; we were driving along the road that connects Spangdahlem to Bitburg. Being that it was Sunday, the driver was leisurely meandering to our destination, a heavenly café in Bitburg, for a nice piece of Black Forest cake and refreshments. Spring was fast approaching; the countryside was beginning to be dotted with Holstein sitting on grassy meadows. The snow that had lain stoically for all those winter months was beginning to vanish without a trace.

Suddenly, we came upon a lone traveler; he grew bigger and bigger the closer we drew to him. The driver lowered his window, and the elderly man approached our orange, 1970s Volkswagen station wagon. The man asked the driver in English laced with a strong German accent if we could take him to Bitburg. We were told to make room for our guest, so we all squeezed tightly like Pringles potato chips in a can, and the nomad sat in the middle between my cousin and me.

I was glad he sat next to me so I could study him. The loan wanderer was around seventy; his hair was white, and he had plenty of it. There was a glimmer in his eyes of azure that made him look almost boyish.

“What’s your name?” My curiosity had overcome me, and I had to ask. He perused my face, and then he answered, “Herr (Mr.) Vogt, and what is yours?”

I responded, “I’m Helena. Why are you hitchhiking?”

He looked at me a bit puzzled, and then he said, “Hitch hiking? Not hardly. I was hiking along this road because I am on a mission.”

Suddenly, I felt my arms getting covered with chill bumps. I had to know more about this mysterious stranger, so I continued, “Where are you from, Herr Vogt?”

“Oh, from all over the place, really.”

“But you had to have started somewhere, right?” I prodded him. He didn’t seem to mind my young inquisitiveness; he answered, trying to conceal a mischievous grin, “Well, let’s just say that where I originated is somewhere far, far away from here.” We rode in silence, and then Herr Vogt offered, “You know, little one, the wind blows here, and it blows there, yet nobody knows where it comes from or where it is going.”

I was puzzled at first, and then I knew what he meant. “Are you one of those messengers that God sends to help people out?”

 He answered, “Yes, I am sent to you today.”

Jokingly, I asked him, “What’s in your suitcase?”

He smiled at me and said, “There are many places I have to visit before I report back to my boss, so I need to look like I fit in.” I settled into a satisfied silence. His presence was as a warm, wool coat around me that made me feel protected. We didn’t say much for the rest of the ride, and when we reached Bitburg, the driver asked Herr Vogt where he would like to be dropped off. He told the driver to stop at the light, and we pulled over so Herr Vogt could make his exit. As he was leaving, he shook my hand, and he looked deep into my mesmerized eyes, right down to the core of my soul. Then he departed. I tried to look for him, but I could not find him. He vanished right from my sight.

I’ll never forget Herr Vogt; his presence is still with me as I write this entry in my journal. I entertained a stranger that Sunday afternoon; he kept me company. I know he is one of God’s messengers who came by my side for a little while. He didn’t have to explain his mission because I’ve always known in my heart of hearts that God sent him to let me know that He loves me. I felt it that day.

-Eva Santiago Copyright 2012

365 Snap Shots of Life : Day 215

Salsa! The Taste of Life, my new book soon to be released is a volume of short stories  and poems. For the past few posts I’ve shared some of the material I had to edit because it would have made too big of a book to market.  This poem I wrote is about one of the closest friends I’ve ever had. Every once in a while, God will send someone into our lives with such a sweet spirit, that when they are no longer a part of our life, we feel their absence much like a piece of dried bread misses its butter 🙂 As you read this, let your friends know how much you appreciate them!

The Song of the Swallow

This morning I was down,

that is until I heard.

What did I hear?

The song, el canto de la golondrina.

 

What a breathtaking sound!

What sound?

Pues la cancion de la golondrina.

 

 

It lifted my spirit,

soothed my weary soul,

brought peace to my home.

What was that? I heard you ask-

 

 

Pues la dulce cancion de la golondrina.

My restless children heard it,

and peace returned to them at once.

They cheered as they heard the melodic sound.

 

 

Otra vez, caramba! What sound you ask?

Pues la bella melodia de la golondrina.

No se como explicarlo.

All I know is the song of that grace filled swallow

set to flight, ten thousand of hell’s demons,

and once again peace was restored to my heart.

-EVA SANTIAGO Copyright 2012

365 Snap Shots of Life: Day 214

I have GREAT news! Salsa! The Taste of Life, my second book I keep ranting about has now moved to the layout design part of the process!!! The contractions are coming closer now and this “baby” is going live soon! 🙂 I heard word from my editor yesterday and she said the editing part is complete. That was music to my ears.

Picking a title for your book is a lot like picking a name for your child.You want just the right name to represent your child and his/her character for their whole life. Same thing with a book; you want the title to not only represent your work well and also jump off the book shelf and grab your audience’s attention! During the writing of Salsa!, I played around with several ideas before deciding on Salsa! The Taste of Life.

I found this article today and I thought you would enjoy knowing that other writers have to go through a title picking “struggle” as well.

 

What 10 Classic Books Were Almost Called

Remember when your high school summer reading list included AtticusFiesta, and The Last Man in Europe? You will once you see what these books were renamed before they hit bookshelves.

Read the full text here: http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/70037#ixzz22JkdZgrT
–brought to you by mental_floss!

 

 

1. F. Scott Fitzgerald went through quite a few titles for his most well-known book before deciding on The Great Gatsby. If he hadn’t arrived at that title, high school kids would be pondering the themes of Trimalchio in West Egg; Among Ash-Heaps and Millionaires; On the Road to West Egg; Under the Red, White, and Blue; Gold-Hatted Gatsby; and The High-Bouncing Lover.

2. George Orwell’s publisher didn’t feel the title to Orwell’s novel The Last Man in Europe was terribly commercial and recommended using the other title he had been kicking around—1984.

3. Before it was Atlas Shrugged, it was The Strike, which is how Ayn Rand referred to her magnum opus for quite some time. In 1956, a year before the book was released, she decided the title gave away too much plot detail. Her husband suggested Atlas Shrugged and it stuck.

4. The title of Bram Stoker’s famous Gothic novel sounded more like a spoof before he landed on Dracula—one of the names Stoker considered was The Dead Un-Dead.

5. Ernest Hemingway’s original title for The Sun Also Rises was used for foreign-language editions—Fiesta. He changed the American English version to The Sun Also Rises at the behest of his publisher.

6. It’s because of Frank Sinatra that we use the phrase “Catch-22” today. Well, sort of. Author Joseph Heller tried out Catch-11, but because the original Ocean’s Eleven movie was newly in theaters, it was scrapped to avoid confusion. He also wanted Catch-18, but, again, a recent publication made him switch titles to avoid confusion: Leon Uris’ Mila 18. The number 22 was finally chosen because it was 11 doubled.

7. To Kill a Mockingbird was simply Atticus before Harper Lee decided the title focused too narrowly on one character.

8. An apt precursor to the Pride and Prejudice title Jane Austen finally decided on: First Impressions.

9. Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? Secretly, apparently. Mistress Mary, taken from the classic nursery rhyme, was the working title for Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden.

10. Originally called Ulysses in Dublin, James Joyce’s Dubliners featured characters that would later

Read the full text here: http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/70037#ixzz22JkUB3Cm
–brought to you by mental_floss!

http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/70037

365 Snap Shots of Life: Day 211

How is your Sunday so far? Mine is consisting of a little house work, a bit of Olympic games viewing and now giving you yet another preview of my new book coming out SOON!. When I was writing Salsa! The Taste of Life, I was afraid I wouldn’t have enough material. Now, after editing it turns out I had a surplus! I’m so glad too because I get to use this edited material to promote Salsa! before it goes live.

My editor suggested that I save this material I had to cut out for another book. I thought of it and then I realized I don’t have to. Do you know why? because this writer knows that her creative fountain will never run dry. You see, the creative process is a marvelous thing. I write when I have something to say. There are times when I only journal my personal thoughts. So I keep writing. Then after seeping in my own creative juices after a little while, VOILA! The flow starts back up. That’s why I can share my edited work with the world on my blog right now; because I know there’s more coming!

Happy Sunday!

Children No More

The children are at school,

always being taught

to ignore the Golden Rule,

What they learn is for naught.

 

 

The children in school all day,

told what to do every hour,

even told how they can play;

their disposition is quite sour.

 

 

The children in school all week;

they never learn about God.

Taught to be selfish instead of meek,

at home the parents spare the rod.

 

 

The children in school all year;

taught to be good for nothing,

filling them up with knowledge, facts, and fear,

out after twelve years, knowing nothing at all.

From the crib to the daycare,

from the daycare to the classroom,

all they learn is to defy God and swear.

The children are in school…

Today, to be a child is quite rare.

-Eva Santiago Copyright 2012

DISCLAIMER! This poem is in no way meant to offend any teacher who works in the public school system. I have many friends who teach in public schools and I respect them all for the tremendous job they do in a failed system.

2012 Olympic Games On!

The Olympics are under way and I wanted to share some fun pics today. London, you did a great job on staging a show of such magnitude! BRAVO! Let’s not forget that the games are mainly about PEOPLE and not just lights, cameras, action! These are real people out there whom I’m sure have sacrificed a great deal to land a spot on any country’s team. On that reason alone, they all deserve much respect. I’d love to hear each person’s story of the countless amount of blood, sweat and tears that were shed on the road to these 2012 games.

Let’s not forget the people who volunteered to make this ceremony a success. It takes a great love of your country to give so much of your own personal time to stage such an event. THESE are the real heroes in my book. So to the people of London who made it all happen: KUDOS!! Don’t listen to any of the critical reviews or bad press, you all did a SUPERB job!

Go team USA!!!

-Eva Santiago copyright 2012

 

365 Snap Shots of Life: Day 209

 

Ready for another pre-taste of Salsa! the Taste of Life? It’s my new book going live soon! 🙂 Well here, have a taste!! I wish you a grand week-end and may you stop for a minute and take in a sunset 🙂

 

Am I a Baby or Just a Bump?

Mama, Mama, what am I?

Am I a baby,

or just an ugly bump?

 

 

Some people say I am a baby;

others say I’m just some tired bump.

 

Since when does a human life

get reduced to a bump?

 

 

Every day, I grow inside here. Yet people forget,  because I am little and still being knitted and formed, that I have  feelings. I am reduced to no more  than a bump.

 

 

When God looks at me, does he see a person,

or am I just another lump of clay in His hands?

 

 

When Eve, the mother of all the living, conceived her first child,

was she so figure-conscious as to refer to the life inside her as

just a bump?

 

 

For centuries women regarded the miracle that life is

as something holy and inspiring.

What have we come to now,

that we depreciate and devalue,

and reduce it to nine months

of carrying an unsightly bump?

 

 

Roe vs. Wade-

Gave women the freedom to kill their own babies.

No wonder now young girls,

think nothing of discarding the bump,

into an old garbage dump.

 

 

The opinion of the day is for women,

of all races, ages, and sizes

to deal with the bump!

Get rid of it through c-section surgery;

as fast as you can.

Go back to the gym;

hurry up now, get back to that size two

as fast as you can!

Don’t nourish your baby; don’t give her your best,

because after all, it’s just an unsightly bump!

 

Let’s save the whales, they say!

Let’s save the buffalo!

Let’s throw away human life,

because after all, it’s just an insignificant bump!

 

 

We were all fashioned and created by someone way bigger.

We bear the image and face of almighty God.

Now what did you come from?

A human being made in His image,

or just an unsightly bump?

A heavenly place next to His throne?

Or an obscure garbage dump?

 

Would you throw God into a dumpster?

-Eva Santiago Copyright 2012