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Best Poems Written by Ernesto P. Santiago

Below are the all-time best Ernesto P. Santiago poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Spring Bud

My 
                               breath
                          shivers under  
                       a rug of loneliness,
                    a sleepy heart huddles
                   against such memories 
                 of togetherness and not of 
               goodbyes, hating to disperse 
               the fiery rhymes of your lips, 
                as well as the warmth of its 
                 sweat...tastes like red wine, 
                   then it beats...and beats
                     gently, as it envisions
                          you, in an early
                                misty
                                   s
                                  p
                                r
                               i
                              n
                            g

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007



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Shallownaturexistence

shallownaturexistence

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2006

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The Farm Boy

amidst the green field
behind grandpa’s old brick house
lies a broken fridge,
unmindful of time passing
until my mom calls me home.

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ernesto P. Santiago Poem

An Offspring of Love

You are,                                                   And I am,
                   The Body of Christ,                                       Of an earthly man,
            Purchased by His sacred blood!                       A sinner, living in iniquity!

       Pure and precious in nature                                  A presumptuous transgressor,
  True riches and infinite wisdom                                                    Of divine teachings,
Can only be found in You!                                            Of the Father--the Greatest King!

You are the light of life                                                               And I walk in darkness
To those who believe in righteousness                         For I'm led to falsity and deception
As they reside in Your blessed peace!                       By the sweet-talking parsons of lies!

You preached the gospel,                                                          I ignored your presence
To the GEM many came to listen,                               For my fixation was on seen things
But few are chosen!                                                         From which I gained nothing! 

 You saw the emptiness in my heart                        I was touched by Your noble deeds
   And that You gave me invitation                              That I accepted Your call, gladly! 
     To be apart of You!                                         And later, I found the truth in You!

            You are in me and I'm in You! And thru the Holy Baptism, I am redeemed!
            And I became a true Christian. In one spirit, we share our firm conviction
                To those who seek the long and treacherous road towards salvation!

                     Sharing our gifts from Heaven could change one's life, forever!
                        For great fortune is ours, as we make life better for others
                            And for them to be called into the Supreme Church!

                                    For truly, I will abide in the Holy Scriptures,
                                       To constantly praise and worship God,
                                           For I am, sure and without doubt,
                                                An offspring of His unselfish
                                                       And everlasting
                                                              Love!

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2006

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December Sky

I sit, with deep contentment, by the window 
And watching the young evergreen out-shadowed
The oak tree, where love once etched on it, I sowed 

My time quietly slipped into the picture
Between my only son and his firstborn son
Between the past, the present, and the future

I have the feelings, but no words are spoken
When the words are spoken, my own feelings gone
Hidden for life, in my sagging rocking chair

I felt the late afternoon cold breeze, touching 
White-bearded face, with the autumn scent tingling 
While the golden sun has faded, into gray

I saw the charmed naked ladies, still smiling
In a bright purplish pink, for there are no snows
Soon, the land will be white, when tomorrow bows

As I eagerly wait for December sky
To glow, with sensational firecrackers’ lights
In my arms, my grandson awaken from sleep

No words spoken, but, has the smile on his face
In him I saw myself, in my father’s arm
Now I know, December’s coming, to give grace

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2006



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The Godfather

I’m a man, just simply a man;
once a child with no other distinction.
I am neither your first son, nor last.

I cannot alter what God has planned, 
nor stop sun to shine, 
nor stop the rain he’s cast.

So, I seek a solution to the paradigm
of angst and joy of life,
of the person I should be now.

Though life’s full of mystery and of misery,
you were there to give me hope and dignity,
no wonder I always love to be with you.

But, when God decided...
we couldn’t say, “No!” 
You left me with his everlasting glory.

As time passes, I realize the greatness of 
love and joy on the day of my friend’s son,
I became like you, a loving godfather.

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007

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I Am What I Am

My head slightly bent over a table of happiness.

My feet, sod with white lilacs, dance merrily 
to a moon stroke music of twilight night.

My finger-tips childishly sip 
the sweat of quill, like red wine of Mother Earth 
that runs down the skin of my heart.

Down in the chores of primal things 
I have been to the bowl aquarium, mostly at nights 
where I breathed and twitched with the fish, trying 
to catch the warm winks of stars. Ahh, 

I know all about human arts, although I 
dabble in the language of my adopted father; still
I know how to sketch 
in my own words a lovely butterfly, fluttering 
awhile in the night to say hello

and to kiss me, 
ere on a fluffy pillow 
of dreams 
I close my eyes. My name is nothing special, 
but honestly I am what I am… a poetry dancer, dancing 
with emotions for my fictitious lover.



Author’s note:  I wrote it in response to “The Invitation to Write”, by Gather 
Essentials: Writing Challenge, based on Carl Sandburg’s poem “Who Am I?”

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2008

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The Nose

Though 
                                                          My 
                                                       Nose,
                                                    Small
                                                And
                                              Not
                                          Well 
                                        Formed,
                                     Still
                                  I like it
                               For I 
                           Can
                        Smell
                     You,
                  Very 
               Lovely
            Scent-
            Your
             Poetry, 
                 Perfume
                      For my soul!

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2006

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Stained Love

Emotional me
is out from my verbose head
like a winter flower with
petals, so much like
hankies of a sleepless god,
to wave in such elegance
my charm over you,
again and again, ‘til your
smile, left to death by the strides
of your rococo
lover, is awakened and
becomes my choka poem

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2009

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Finding Time To Love Again

We talked about poetry
Over cups of coffee and cigarette
In a café full of prowlers of pleasure
And skippers of wisdom
On a wintry day 
That was numbing my patience

The bitter taste of coffee 
Energized my words, 
Fluttering like cherry blossoms of spring, 
Right from my heart, timid, but with lots 
Of rhyme to offer,
And it beat
Faster than the hands of time
As I looked at you
With your eyes, teasing...

And I almost forgot
To take my «I love you, Dad» kid from school
‘Cause of your Angelina Jolie
Lips that giggled my widowed soul

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2009

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things