Story Telling

Story Telling

The story of my life

Tells you where I’ve been

What I’ve done

The many things I’ve heard and seen

The story of my life

Will tell you I was once a wife

I tried hard to live free

I tried hard to get rid of strife

The story of my life

Will tell you I’ve been beaten

But I’ve never been beat

I’ve been humiliated

But never annihilated

The story of my life

Has many a tough scene

But never have I regretted what these brown,deep set eyes have seen

The story of my life

Is  not unlike many others

It has sorrow

It has joy

There’s no telling what comes tomorrow

The story of my life

Has its highs

Has its lows

Bright sun filled days

Gloomy sorrowed filled nights

But despite it all

I am proud of my own story

I share glimpses of it in my poems and stories

That’s how I honor my soul

That’s how I pay tribute

To my captivating history

I am not ashamed

I have very little to regret

I own it all

For good

For bad

Whether pretty

Whether ugly

For sweet

For bitter

It’s made me who I am

It’s my declaration,a place of personal growth and power

I dare you, right now

You’re reading this for a reason

Stake your claim

All our stories combined would fill volumes

Stop regretting and lamenting

Make this the day you take back your power!

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2015

At First Sight

At First Sight

At first sight

Dreams sparkle like diamonds in the rough

I dream

I wake up

I sleep

I wake up

I dream again

Was it real?

Was it just a dream?

I dreamt that reality was the dream and when  I awoke, I knew I had been dreaming because dreams are reality. Though I can’t touch what I dreamt of just yet.  it doesn’t make it any less real than the closest tangible object…

Eva Santiago Copyright 2015

Old Things Are New Again

Old Things Are New Again

Old things are new again

New things get old fast

You can’t recycle new things ’cause they’re not old yet

Old things get dubbed classic

New things get dubbed bomb

But can classic be bomb?

Can bomb be classic?

Old things are called antique

But when you buy an antique , is it new to you?

Old things get handed down

Can new things be traded up?

Old things create nostalgia

A longing for yesteryear

New creates euphoric feelings for the short term

Once you get your new things home

The newness quickly wears off

Are old memories better than new ones?

If you’re not making new memories

Are you recycling the old ones?

New is expected to learn from old

But will old humble itself to learn from new?

Are old sayings and proverbs wiser than new ad slogans and catchy song lyrics?

Can an old flame be rekindled to what it once was?

Can a new love spark a flame to burn into eternity?






To all of my readers: I wish you a Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays and a wonderful 2015!!! Thank you for reading and following this blog 🙂 ❤ -Eva

Christmas presents all wrapped up in bright festive colors

Waiting for their big day

Holding secrets that won’t keep long

Days dwindle down

Anticipation mounts

Big and small packages

Pregnant with good news

Only they know of the treasures within

Live each day like a Christmas gift you unwrap on Christmas morn’!

Because none of us know when our time comes

Anticipate each day like a kid on Christmas morn’

Stop looking back on your past gifts

You’ve been there and lived that

Live the present as if it really is your one and only present

Tomorrow’s gifts are yet unknown-they remain under the tree of life

Open them when their time comes

Yesterday’s presents will not help you live today any better

So wise up and get goin’

Get over the past, it’s been opened

Nor  worry about your future -for it’s yet to be unwrapped

LIVE this very day!

Go ahead, tear into the paper

Don’t save the bows

It’s what’s inside that matters

That’s what’s yours to hold!!!

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014







My thoughts run a muck .
My thought stagger.
My thoughts run limp.
My thought run at the speed of light.
My thoughts meander down less traveled paths where light has not reached yet
My thoughts dance in the rain
My thoughts celebrate life
My thoughts weep at death
My thoughts always communing with me
My thoughts always making love with my spirit
My thoughts always at war with my flesh
My thoughts always at peace with my heart
My thoughts lay scattered about
My thoughts always in a haze of self-doubt
My thoughts are mine and mine alone
I own the ones that are true-discarding the lying ones
My thoughts gallivanting about on endless fields of green
My thoughts gliding effortlessly about as sailboats  on clear blue seas
My thoughts cascading like the Tequendama Falls
My thoughts orbiting the moon and watching the Milky Way knowing of galaxies beyond
My thoughts are old
My thoughts are new
My thoughts are borrowed
My thoughts are blue
My thoughts reflecting the colors of the rainbow
My thoughts are triple X-rated
My thoughts are pure as snow
My thoughts bask in the sunshine on a beach in Spain
My thoughts tango with great passion in Buenos Aires
My thoughts never in prison
My thoughts have wings and fly far away places
My thoughts always cherishing and remembering kind,sweet faces
My thoughts getting anchored down in the many books I write
My thoughts dreaming up greatness
My thoughts perceiving things I’ve yet to comprehend with my finite mind
My thoughts hear music that’s yet to be played over the radio air waves
My thoughts at best exasperating for I am still living in this 3 dimensional plane

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014




I am posting a couple of poems written by a 13 year old  dancer  and aspiring poet . -Eva


dancers are mimes
we express ourselves
through our
no words.
if your act
tells a story,
I think it’s one of
the most
beautiful things.
if not, you need to
get out of the
box and tell it.

dd decola


I’m Deanna. Most know me by DD, which is how I write my name on some poems I have written. I’m a dancer, dance has been a part of my life for awhile, since I was two. I’m in 7th grade, in Las Vegas Nevada. Dance helps me with my writing, and so do my experiences. My dream is to become a professional dancer, along with being a writer/poet.


She was a transformed heart, in a budding love. She decided to treat herself  to a set of brand new bed linens



She shopped all over to find just the right ones. She wanted to celebrate fresh love  with expensive sheets;the kind found in 5 star hotels. Her credit card implored  with her not to be reasonable. Her cost conscious mind would admonish her, “Watch that money…settle for what you can afford…” She was through with just getting along. She had settled in a marriage;compromising  in lesser ways that had led her to tolerate things she was never meant to put up with. And now, she was ending a long era of self disrespect.A generous soul, her giving knew no bounds. She always gave her best to others, putting herself on the back burner. This purchase was indeed a huge deal!She was now  ascending to a higher level, adorned by genuine love for  the first time in her existence. She chose sage hued linens;wisdom had lead her thus far. The counsel of the sages had caused her to grow. She’ll never ,ever conform again…she has become a sage as well.

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014




A prison can be found in the confines of a 3 million dollar mansion

A prison can be found in the interior of the latest Ferrari model

Prisons are all around

What keeps you from chasing after your dreams?

That’s your prison

Who controls your mind?

They are your prison warden

Why did you never believe you could fly?

A prison is waiting there for you…on that island that surrounds that lie

You know the one

You heard it from the time you could understand

You came here to be free

And some one stole the sparkle from your eyes

Some one chopped off the tail to your kite

Telling you it wasn’t long or short enough…and you believed them…

Some one said you sucked at singing

That your voice is flatter than a pan cake

And you chose not to let your vocal chords sing another note

Some one told you couldn’t dream great dreams

So you chose to live a night mare

Some one told you you’re too poor  to make your dreams come true

That only the rich are allowed to dream…you believed them…

All you had to do was reject the bullshit lies

But you went on and embraced them instead

You chose a prison to spend all of your days in

You chose to line your pockets with money

So you wouldn’t have to live feeling the pain of the lie

You have friends, but you hate them all

You have people who need your help

And you hate them too

There are people who love you

And you can’t receive their love because you don’t allow yourself visitors inside your self- made prison

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014




One day I want to look up and know that all I did made a difference

I wanna know that all I touched turned to gold

I wanna know that I warmed a heart gone cold

I wanna know that I caused the blind to see

I wanna know that I caused waves in the ocean

and that the stones I skipped on a pond

caused ripples in the sea

I wanna know that those souls in my care

knew I was always there

I wanna know that I caused the deaf to hear

sweet,sweet, sweet music for the very first time

I wanna know I made some one cry happy tears

I wanna know that I made some one laugh ’til they cried

I wanna know that my existence made a difference

I wanna know that I caused a paused heart to resume play

I wanna know that you chose life because my life made a difference in yours

I wanna know that I caused you to dream big dreams because this dreamer, never dreams little dreams

I wanna know that I caused you to be ridiculously silly for a half a minute

and for that short span of time you forgot your troubles

I wanna know if my love caused you to bloom…






Mean spirits

Friendly spirits

Cannot consort together

Not today

Not tomorrow

Not ever

Can a friendly spirit turn mean?

Can a mean spirit turn friendly?

For a friendly spirit, is a mean spirit deadly?

For a mean spirit, is a friendly spirit a target?

To humiliate

To annihilate?

To intimidate?


Don’t follow a mean spirit

You’ll be lead into a maze

You’ll turn maze runner




Running for your very life

You’ll never know where the predator hides

You’ll hide in the corner and he’ll find you cowering

As he searches you out

He’ll see your breath lingering in the shadows

He’ll sense your heart beating right out of your chest

He’ll pounce upon you when you think you’re safe

He’ll make you grieve night and day

From that insane labyrinth, it’ll be next to impossible to escape


If you’re a friendly spirit turned maze runner

Your faith will light your way

Your light will guide you out

The sound of your voice will slay all the monsters

Your courage will shatter them all


You’ll outwit the grievers at every turn

When they attack, laugh in their hideous faces

They hate being mocked

How they hate the sound of joy

How they loath all that is friendly

Oh how they run from all that is light

And what the grievers truly despise

And what truly brings their demise

Are all the friendly spirits who’ve made it out of the maze

With our spirits alive

With our spirits intact

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014