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  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  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  sirens all around her. The flashing red and blue lights hurt her eyes  as she lies on a patch of dewy grass. A tall EMT woman with  blond hair tied in a pony tail  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  swimming again in that blue , chilly ocean water for God only knows how long.

Eva Santiago Copyright 2015



There is a way
I know that one day we will surely find it
Some days the path will curve
And we’ll know it’ll all be ok
Some days the path may dip
And we’ll know we’ll all be ok
Some days the path will look like one straight shot to our success
But will we take it?
Because the path to anything worthwhile
The path to anything mind blowing
The path to anything life altering is seldom one straight shot
There is a way
I know that one day we will surely find it
Not sure when,where,how
The path usually hides itself in plain sight
So easy to overlook
So easy to disregard
So easy to walk right on by
What’s that thing you hold in your hand?
That’s the key
The key to your dreams
You use it everyday and take it for granted
Because you never fully embraced it
You see it as a nuisance
When every nuance speaks the opposite
So wake up!
What’s that thing you hold in your hand?
That’s your key
To your heart
To your dreams
To your future
Use it well
Don’t abuse it
Don’t throw it away

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?