Keep It Simple

Spine Poetry


Haiku Tuesday
Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi

The Rain Will Come

Perhaps it's the war
     with the death of a son
     with the sacrifice of a father

Perhaps it's the year of query
     of beautiful story without a reader
     of skillfully written, but --     

Perhaps it's months of illness
     and having little to control
     and having less to try

This creative desert only
     deepens my thirst
     drives my next step

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved
Photo by Oleg Magni from Pexels

Of kindling and ember

Haiku Tuesday

Just Enough

Rotem Tree photo credit Acts242Study
In the shade of the Rotem
I catch my breath
rest, relief, recover
just enough

to move forward, journey on
trust the story, remember 
hurt, healing, hope
then offer

shade to another on this rugged route
to give just enough
care, comfort, encouragement
to carry on

(c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Seedtime Hope

steady now

the birds collect twigs
the trees bud with promise
the grass stands vibrant
the wind arrives gentle and new

hang tight

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Helping Hand

when i'm stuck
lost in my world
wandering along twisting
spaghetti brain lanes

i get caught in a loop

need You to straighten
my thinking, keeping me
moving forward, teaching me
to roll through a stumble

to deliver some truth

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Finding Inspiration

we writers
sometimes poets
players of words
collectors of ideas
pluck from the muck
pull pearls
string bracelets
to seduce the muse

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved



Confident Woman

She's every bit
              the confident woman

Her clothes are pressed
hair styled, shoulders back, chin up
She has her purpose
mission-minded, laser-focused, prepared

She's every bit
              the confident woman

Across the table sits
her mirror image in younger form
They sip their coffee,
click keyboards, shuffle papers,  tackle to-dos

She's every bit
              the confident woman

She instructs her daughter
in ways of life, of work, of world
Maybe a little jealous
her daughter's insight, strength,  sense-of-self

Becoming every bit
              the confident woman

her mother only feigns

(C)2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Twelve Tiny Treasures

These twelve words
written on my heart
constant companions
my hope and breath
my anchor and wind

Remember, I am with you
Until the very end of age

(c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Dandelion Seeds

a stream of consciousness
connects trouble
to trouble to trouble

gun violence
domestic violence
no solutions nonsense

health declining, covid rising
civil unrest pivots like a windsock

Oh, Ukraine.
my heart weeps
my anger boils
but my hands feel confined
in this spectator's straight jacket

Take a breath, oh my soul

Sprinkle random acts of kindness
Into my space in this world
Let them catch a zephyr
Let them spread like dandelion seeds

(c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Such a Brat

This bossy story
pricks and pesters.
It's such a brat.
Doesn't care I'm uncertain.

Inspiration pokes and prods 
'til I pay it some attention,
like my pup with her ball
incessant 'til I play with her

What if I ignore it? Ha!
The muse will ruin my dreams
to wake me, to make me 

(c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

New High Score

With the breaking blip of light
the pinball machine in my mind
shoots out the first ball for the day

it zips, zings, pings
back and forth
being flung by the bumpers

ideas fling with flurry
scurry, chasing a high score
thoughts zip past trying to catch

that one idea that'll make the machine sing
the rattling rings the victory melody
when at last my mind snags

that story idea. 
Not the one I want to write,
the one I need to write.

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved


Haiku Tuesday

Let’s Sweep

Never mind the issue I had
We swept it under the rug

Never mind the issue you have
We'll sweep that under the rug, too

We'll just sweep
sweep, sweep

'Til the pile is high
Enough to trip over
Break our necks

Then we'll worry
Over those issues
Never more

(c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

These Hands

There's a pair of older hands
Clacking away on my keyboard

Crinkles and creases, mercilessly dry
Where did their prowess go?

Thicker now, age spots on the horizon
Beyond the power they once yielded

They've realized their true strength
Being lent to another in love, regardless of like

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Little Muse

Being my muse is exhausting work
Beneath my desk
Content to rest at my feet
My faithful pup
Inspires the writer in me

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Rain Dance

Singing In Springtime

It sounds like I am on hold.
Or the ring of a dying phone.
The cell in my hand is silent.
My laptop before me behaves.

Beyond the window a blue bird,
a new-to-me type, plays statue
in the budding young maple.
It hops and warbles a song unfamiliar.

Perhaps it's eaten a robotic worm.
Maybe I'm swallowed by technology.

It's been too long since spring last.
Time to fine tune these ears of mine.

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Careless Poets

Elevates language
Careless poets intimidate,
Torturing meaning beyond comprehension

(c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Authentically Me

Haiku Tuesday


Ten Word Poetry

Soft Landing

Haiku Tuesday


System Check

Photo by from Pexels
All systems are a-go
Speech Time

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

A Poet’s Practice

Poetry requires a nimble brain 
that can scale the synonyms
pivot on a dime to find the right word

contort the mind to mold metaphors
zig zag and shift phrasing
to layer sound that strengthens meaning

stiffness sets faster with each season
the will to write withers
daily disciplines dwindle

gotta downward dog by way back
feel the pull and the stretch
the pain will be worth it

(c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved


Haiku Tuesday

Tax Time


I Write Poetry

While world players position
their pawns for battle,
I write poetry.

While a desperate mother steals
her children to safer borders,
I write poetry.

While young women are bartered
their dignity for dollars,
I write poetry.

While I pray for peace and purpose,
mine out the voice I've been given,
I write poetry.

To shine light into dark places,
distill hope in the hurt,
I write poetry.

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved
Photo by Kirill Lazarev from Pexels

Line breaks

Winter Wayfarer

A Time to Dance

When news from my inbox
sets my feels a-whirling, my feet a-twirling
my pups content to craze by my side

it's near impossible to settle my mind --
my mettle is permitted to tarnish
for a day

Tomorrow the refresh button
will tire of my touch.
I'll ground myself, dig deep, press on.

But today I dance 
hopes high on cloud nine,
grateful I never gave up

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved
she’s always up for a celebration

This is Joy to Me

A teenage boy retelling his day
to his dad.
Siblings besting each other,
sounds of disgust,
responded with laughter.
Someone else doing the dishes.
This is joy to me.

A walk through the woods
with four-legged companions.
Exploring roads to somewhere,
anticipating what the next bend holds.
A breath-taking skyscape.
That familiar voice after far too long.
This is joy to me.

When my world shrinks
as molehills grow into mountains 
surrounding me,
I remember the Light.
How it shined brightest
in darkest times.
Praise raises, righting my perspective.
This is joy to me.

That I could wax on about this
'til my candle burned out,
This is a joy to me, too.

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

The Dance

Haiku Tuesday

A Toast to Authors

mining joy

joy mined in the moment
crumbles the hardness of the day

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

simple joy

haiku tuesday


Photo by Bella White from Pexels
I don't remember 
where these ropes came from
yet here they are

Perhaps they were declarations
dropped in my path
I collected, like a robin,
formed them into a nest

Likelier still, they were
the twine of thin thoughts
I knitted together
wrapped around me
like a security blanket

layer after layer
becoming protective armor

the Light reveals their nature
thick ropes that bind
that suffocate
that steal the freedom
designed for me

strand by strand
the blade of truth
will slice through
these taut thoughts
'til I'm at last


©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Juxtaposing Battles

They start in the corner between the couch and the wall. The little one pins herself into small spaces as though it might give her the advantage. They don’t know how to play quietly. Gurgling at each other more than growling.

What is that word?

My reprimand for quiet only encourages them to come closer — to play beneath the table where I sit, bumping into my chair, jostling my thoughts. I can smell their spit and saliva as they gnarl and nip at each other.

Their noises, that smell, fracture my thinking as I chase a word that won’t come. It isn’t montage or combination. Hodgepodge is a fun word, but not right. I’m sure it starts with a W.

Their smell raises a little nausea; it climbs up my esophagus, or perhaps it is my frustration with this stuck word. The thesaurus is no use. Their gnarling gives way to piercing yips.

OH I YELL! Ah! You’re breaking my brain! I cannot think!

Now I’m snarling and harumphing. This darn word! What is this forsaken WORD!? The thesaurus can’t even find it! Google is no help.

How have I completely lost this word? This cluttered art form that I don’t like, but can be useful when brainstorming. What is this W-Word??????

The dogs have vacated from beneath the table. My screams made them scurry. One to lay on the carpet, the other to ring the bell to go out.





I let big dog out. The wind blows a cool kiss.

My phone stares up at me — displaying montage and many words about it. Somewhere in the middle of all of it all are the seven letters I’ve been chasing — that tricky little word that hid under some synapse in my mind — COLLAGE.

What a relief! Stinkin’ collage.

Beyond the Shadow’s Edge

Photo by ramy Kabalan from Pexels
Do not be deceived.
This place of loneliness,
shame, despair
is not darkness,
merely a shadow.

Beyond the shadow's edge
the light waits.

Get up.
Stagnate no more.
Seek it out.
Crawl if need be.
The light is never too far.

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

White Magic

Haiku Tuesday

©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

photo credit Terri Perdue

Without Serendipity

Is there ever a day
where at the end of it
it can be said,
that went exactly to plan?

What a shame.
Seems more the story
of the villain
than the hero.

©2021 Sue Santiago all rights reserved