Tag: Arts

Hold Your Head Up!

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No matter what
Hold your head up
If the wind took your hat
Hold your head up
If the rain drowned out your daisies
Hold your head up
If the moon fell out of your sky and all is pitch black
Hold your head up
If the trees fall upon the dwelling you fought so hard to obtain
Hold your head up
If someone won’t let go your Eggo
Hold your head up
If they smeared your name with bullshit lies
Hold your head up
If you gave away your dignity ’cause you didn’t know any better
Hold your head up
No matter what
Hold your head up!

Eva Santiago © 2016-2024

She said, ” I know you and I wish to unknow you now.” He chuckled as if to frighten her, “Try as hard as you want, you’ll never be rid of me .” She persisted , “Oh watch me! You’re nothing but an old memory and you no longer have power over me !” He stammered, knowing her choice was quickly obliterating what little grip he had left, ” But, but , d-d-don’t you remember we’ve been friends since childhood ?!” She tossed her long locks , laughing and feeling a joy she hadn’t felt since the day she last saw her father alive and answered him, “Oh, I know when I let you in and now I am letting you go for as memory serves me right , you are nothing but an age old enemy whom I’ve let do me more harm than I should have ever.” With that, the old memory picked up his baggage, filled with anxiety, dread and angst, which he’d convinced her for so long was hers, and took off walking in the opposite direction from where she stood . He left no trail of dust .He vanished into oblivion and she arose, a new creature now stood before her. She said the words and new life came . The struggle was indeed over.

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Eva Santiago © 2016-2024

OUR YESTERDAYS

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Our yesterdays become today’s poetry

What mis-guided steps we took in earlier days

Become the compass to guide or mis-guide us through life’s tempests in later years

Our flood of tears that overwhelmed us as babes

Water and keep fertile our heart’s soil in our golden years

Our early attempts at art:

Our stick figures we clumsily drew and our finger paintings

Become the force behind master strokes

On the masterpiece we paint of our whole life

The notes we failed to carry when we were tone deaf

Become the notes angelic beings carry to and fro

Up and down Jacob’s ladder

Aligning the celestial harmonies

Between our heavenly residence and our earthly abode

The multitude of our unanswered questions

We asked while at our parent’s knees

Become our song’s lyrics

The stuff of our novels , stories and poems

We are greater than the sum of earth’s square footage

We are greater than the power of all rulers, past and present combined

Our greatness emanates from the Divine!

Eva Santiago copyright 2016

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BITTER SWEET

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We all drink from a certain cup
Bitter or sweet,
We take our daily libations from life’s fountain
A drink from a bitter cup has to be chased by a sip from the sweet one
or how would we make it?

Some choose bitter some choose sweet
Then there are those of us who figured long ago both are essential,
you can’t have bitter without the sweet
you can’t have sweet without the bitter

A babe craves sweet as it can’t handle bitter
The mature turn bitter from having swallowed the delusions that come with too much sweet
Too much sweet rots you from the inside out
So does too much bitter

Some drink their cups of shattered scraps as if that’s all there is
A wilder mind accepts that bitter and sweet cups are the stuff of life’s elixir
The bitter enhances the sweet and the sweet softens the bitter
You weren’t meant to drown in your bitter gall
Nor were you meant to be pacified by all that is sweet
The bitter tames your soul, makes it pliable
The sweet enhances all that is good in you

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2016

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STRANGE CREATURES

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We are such strange creatures!

We have to leave, to miss, and to be missed

We need space ,to feel closer to our loved ones

We have to give, to receive

We have to die, to live

We have to have known loss, so we can appreciate abundance

We have to have known darkness, so we can shine brightly through our being

We have to have been lost, to  know the warm feeling of being found

We have to have tasted great hatred, so we can become great lovers

We have to have been buried, so we can sprout back up 

We have to have been cut deeply and wide open, for blood to gush out, ushering in true healing

We have to have been cut, in order to be sutured

We have to have seen chaos, to appreciate harmony

We have to have heard cacophony, so we can  hear beautiful sounds….

EVA SANTIAGO©2015-2024

 

 

Us Parents, We’re Weird Like That

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We hope our kids are growing

Then get sad when they do

Us parents, we’re weird like that

We hope they grow more independent

And when they take off on their own

We cry

We hope they need us less and less

Once they do, we wring our hands and pace the floor with worry

We hope our kids leave the nest

And once they do,

We’re devastated

We hope they find true love

And once they do,

We hope they won’t have too many heart breaks

We hope our kids grow up to be amazing people

And once they do

We hope they don’t forget us

Ahhh yes, parental complexity knows no bounds!

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2015