Tag: Eva Santiago

What is a Man Robbed of His Dreams?

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People start dying long before they draw their last breath. Death sets in when you lose all hope. Death takes over when you see things from the view-point of the grave. Death comes on you like a thief at midnight to steal all your dreams from you. Because death alone knows that you gave up even before you were even conscious of it. The thief comes to steal and destroy; the thief sends death in first as a masked robber and then once he annihilates, you are done for.  What is a man robbed of his dreams?  What reason does a man have for existing if he has no dreams to propel him into a better future? Why would he want to keep drawing breath when he can’t even see his own tomorrow?

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014

 

 

TINSEL YEARS

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TINSEL YEARS
He gave her tinsel everything
She lived all of her glitter years
With him there, in Tinsel Town
Tinsel hair
Tinsel clothes
Tinsel smiles
Tinsel hugs
Tinsel kisses
And she always knew
His bad was her good
And she always knew
She could not love- him
And so she said good-bye to it all:
Tinsel hair
Tinsel clothes
Tinsel smiles
Tinsel Hugs
Tinsel kisses
She was done
She was ready for something far beyond his tinsel and glitter years
“Hasta Luego. Me largo de aqui!”
She missed the mid-night train
For once her tears were real
As she wept a pond full
And they amalgamated with the pounding rain
“Good-bye,” She whispered into the mid-night air.”

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014

tinselyrs2

Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

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Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

So I stayed with you to appease the beast
I had no lab formula
To tame that Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde
That you for so long tried to hide
Apparently my love was not the antidote
It’s now oh so clear that there’s no cure
For that sad pathetic beast that you are
You did great
Fooling me for all of those years
With all of your masks
Every time one mask fell
You’d run to put it back in
And I’d sweat it out a little
I was afraid to see the real person
Because let’s face it
You’ve always lived the life of Dr. Jekyll and Mr.Hyde
I’d sleep next to a monster
Never really resting
Always with one eye opened
Certainly my heart mind or body
Never felt truly protected
Oh how my heart knew
Oh how my mind chose to ignore
Because I knew what lay in store
I too was in major denial
I told myself my love was enough
Until You took it all and still asked me for more
“ Well At least I didn’t destroy you,” said the beast
“ And who would want you?” Was one of your best lies
But now I know
Though you tried to shame me for so long
I am not ashamed
For you see as your beast bullied me
I grew stronger
As your beast raped me of my dignity
I found my self-confidence and security
As your beast starved me
I fed myself from the tree of life
As your beast circled about me waiting for my dead carcass
Help from the Ravens came and they fed me in the desert
That desert you abandoned and held me captive in
As you refused to water me
I learned from the desert plants
To store up water for the long drought
As you demolished my heart with your battering ram
It broke
Only to propagate itself
And now it’s one hundred times the size of the heart you first broke
So I thank that beast
Really?
Am I insane
Hardly!
The beast inside you
Made me the best I have ever been.
I bid thee well beast
I hope you get better
Just remember this:
You can’t touch a true heart
You can’t have what was not given you
What you took by force
You can not keep a free spirit in a cage
You can’t destroy what is full of life
I am that rose that grew in the concrete
Yeah that’s right, that stony heart of yours
Gave birth to this fragrant, amazing rose
I chose to live
You choose to die
So long beast!

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014

jekyll&hyde

 

TWISTED

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Life is amazing everyday! When you  have a holiday though, it heightens expectation levels. This year I am glad to say, I spent the most wonderful Thanksgiving Day with some of the best people . Being that everyone who came by to share in the turkey meal, is a writer we gathered together after the meal and we played writing games. New friendships were formed, old friendships were reinforced and all of us in my living room felt not so  alone for those few hours. I love being a writer and having the opportunity to open my home to others is a plus; having that many writers together in my home for such a special day, well this will go down as one of the most memorable Thanksgivings I have ever had! Today’s post comes from that great evening.

He would fuck with her mind, day in and day out. Over the years this wore on her much like a a slow nagging head ache at first, that eventually turns into a blinding migraine. She never knew where she stood with him and that’s how he’d control her;or at least he was under the impression that he was winning in his wicked, manipulative games. Every damn word she spoke, he’d twist. You know that silly childhood game,Twister? Well, he invented the mind twist. He was the master of it. Just when she thought  she was standing on the yellow dots, he’d flip the card board spinner and she’d be fooled once more.

At times she thought she was losing her mind and that’s how he liked it. Then one day after umpteen years of living  with the Twisted Mister, who tried to turn her into a Twisted Sister, she woke right up; and decided to flip the old card board spinner on him.. Oh shit! He was sorely pissed when he caught on. Oh hell, she’d broke his spell and now he was truly lost. She walked away one fresh spring morning with her head held high. Her smile, that radiant smile that Twisted Mister tried to permanently vanish  from her pretty face, was  back on for good. She didn’t have to paint it on anymore-people who saw her could tell she smiled and meant it now. The glimmer in her dark brown eyes had returned too.

She twisted him up all right. Now he stood there tied up in knots like an old, stale sour dough pretzel. He wore on his face a grim expression. He hated her more now than when they first met.

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013

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Fly the Friendly Skies

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Have you ever looked up at the sky

There, way up high

Miraculously suspended

The Most amazing of inventions

Held together by nuts and bolts

Painted with pretty logos

Air buses

Taking us here

Taking us there

Taking us everywhere

Tiny windows all in a row

Heads the size of pins looking out

I see you up there

So jealous of you

Looking down at me sitting here

Stuck on the ground with nowhere to go

But you!

You get to fly!

You’ve got your wings

You are free!

I look up at you

Whoever you are

Right now you shine brighter than any ‘ole star

For you have what I desperately want:

Wings to fly

Where are you headed?

Who the hell cares!

At least you’re going somewhere

A funeral?

A wedding?

You just got divorced?

Starting a new life someplace new?

Perhaps you’re headed for college?

Or maybe a long deserved vacation?

Air travel

What a marvelous feat

When I fly

I lose myself in the clouds

Once I wandered into a great white forest

Stayed there for three hours

Another time I played hide and seek with a rainbow

I remember dancing with angels

Careful not to step on their wings

They don’t take too kindly to that

I have ridden on elephant’s backs

And followed the course of my wild imagination

I was six when I first flew

Nothing in life back then made sense

Until I stepped into a jet plane

And there was where I got a clue

That day so long ago

I remember thinking:

Angelic beings were my friends

For the first time in my short life

I felt like a real princess

They served me the food I liked

They gave me nice smiles

They gave me a pillow

Even held my hand when I got scared

I fell in love with the friendly skies

I told the creatures in the clouds:

“I will always come back

So long,

Fare thee well

I’ll return!”

And time after time

Though I wish to fly more often

To the friendly skies

I have kept my word!

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013

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What if We Are the Same?

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This is a tribute I wrote to my mother who passed when I was an infant. When I share it in public, I still tear up after all these years…

 

“Oh, she died so young!”

Really?!

Who are we to tell?

Not one of us knows

Our day

Our time

Or even our very last hour

So isn’t that declaration a bit pompous?

What if it was her time?

I used to be sad

I used to lament

Oh si mi madre paso..

She was way, way too young!

 

What if perhaps she DID sing all of her songs

And didn’t leave any unsung?

What if she did complete her assignment by giving me life?

What if she made her exit

So I would have a grand entrance?

What if she walked off the stage

So I could be a strong voice for this age?

What if she did her last painting

So I could fulfill my purpose and destiny without fainting?

What if she held me close once

So I could hold others forever?

What if my cheek she one time caressed

So I could with my hands touch the oppressed and depressed?

What if she and I are one and the same?

She went before me

So I can forever her love proclaim….

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013-2014

 

 

Mami