OUR YESTERDAYS

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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STRANGE CREATURES

STRANGE CREATURES

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

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

We have to have been lost, to ย know the warm feeling of being loved and accepted

We have to be orphaned, in order to be adopted

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 to life

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 ย hear beautiful sounds….

EVA SANTIAGO COPYRIGHT 2015

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LIGHT BEINGS

LIGHT BEINGS

She’s the pebble that reflects the sun’s warm rays

She’s the paper he jots down all of his pent up frustrations upon

She’s the pen through which all of his hazy dreams ooze unto the blank lines of his journal

She’s the cracked pavement, a stage his shadow dances on, proving he is a being of light

He’s the wind who caresses the chimes, so her soul can sing when under duress

He’s the ray of light that escapes her heavily draped windows on the darkest, coldest of nights

He’s the anchor that grounds her storm tossed soul, keeping her from shipwreck

They’re each other’s: Pebble

Paper

Pen

Cracked pavement

Chime

Ray of light

Anchor

Together they ride the turbulent ocean waves

They are each other’s life raft, life saver, light house and final destination

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2015

Shreds

Shreds

What is this tear in my heart?

My heart is shredded

I can’t even remember when it tore for the very first time; let alone the most recent

After all’s been said and done: I’m OK!

And after all that keeps coming my way: I’m OK!

Our hearts were made to withstand a lot more wear and tear than we want to admit

To love without measure

To love with a reckless abandon, is the way we were meant to love

Or, forget it and don’t even love at all

To love with all kinds of conditions, regulations and stipulations

Is no love at all

To love with a reckless abandon is to get your heart shredded

Once your heart ‘s been through the wood chipper

You are different for always….

Eva Santiago copyright 2015

It Takes 2

It takes to to make a thing go right

It takes 2 to fuck things up

It takes 2 to build a dream

it takes 2 to destroy it

It takes 2 to live in paradise

it takes 2 to fall from grace

It takes 2 agree and release power

It takes 2 to be in discord and release hell

It takes 2 to Tango, Mamba,Cha-Cha and Waltz

It takes 2 to step on each other’s feet

Miss beats

Miss cues and land flat on your face

It takes 2 to start a never ending war

It takes 2 to set 10,000 demons to flight

It takes 2 to call those demons back

It takes 2 to create a beautiful life in the womb

It takes 2 to abort it

It takes 2 to live in harmony

It takes 2 to make life a terrible cacophony

It takes 2.

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2015

It takes 2 to sow discord and release hell

Waking Dreams #1

Waking Dreams #1

Haddasah is trying to swim ashore after her sail boat capsized. She is floundering about and ends up swimming in circles. Her heart is weary from always being placed under high alert. It doesn’t know what to do anymore. The tide is rising ย and the fiery ball in the orange sky above is fast sinking into the horizon. Daylight is ebbing away much like an old man at sea about to inhale his last breath. Her honey hued eyes are wild as she peers into the four directions. No helps is coming from the north,south ,east or west. She treads the salty water as her athletic , tanned legs tremble under neath from sheer exhaustion. She wonders what it would be like to just sink down effortlessly to the bottom of the Pacific; to never see day light again. Would she miss it? Would she be missed? A flock of seagulls flies over head causing her to focus ย on something other than her muddled thoughts. Her stomach rumbles like Mount Vesuvius. Her long, slender, olive tanned arms are turning a light red. What happens now?

Suddenly from afar, Haddasah hears a loud horn and she is thrown wide awake. There are ear piercing ย sirens all around her. The flashing red and blue lights hurt her eyes ย as she lies on a patch of dewy grass. A tall EMT woman with ย blond hair tied in a pony tail ย is administering CPR. Haddasah catches a whiff of her minty breath and body spray which remind her of Chanel No 5. Haddasah slips out of consciousness and she’s back ย swimming again in that blue , chilly ocean water for God only knows how long.

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?

EVA SANTIAGO COPYRIGHT 2015