Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: raising my standards

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

blocked more clowns in 2023 than I care to count

I’m tired of same repetitive compliments
You’re so pretty, so sexy and if they’re really “trying”
you’re BEAUTIFUL
but never in my life
have i been call a masterpiece, intelligent,
or have I been told that I inspire poetry?
and old lonely me would entertain
these flimsy lust or love possibilities
kept my standards low to keep my bed warm
and to escape my chronic emptiness
but after almost a year of solitude
my standards have been raised to the ceiling
and now I’m protective of my energy
anyone who wants to get near me
will have to make a solid effort
write me poetry, take me out to steak dinners
and buy me pretty dresses and notebooks

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: you’re so sensitive

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

poor kid-she deserved better

I grew up too quickly in some areas and remained a child in others –
it’s a truth that I hate to admit
it wasn’t my parents’ fault
they did the best with what they had –
an extra sensitive child with medical issues
it was too much for them to handle
when they were trying their best to keep their own heads above water
there was no extra time for the extra needs and demands I had
and while middle age holds space to have compassion for them
I still need to reparent my inner child
who comes out in the most inoportune of time
and has caused terrible havoc and harmed others
but it’s not her fault or mine
It happens sometimes, and now I’m taking the time
to nurture her so she can finally grow up

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: I’m a fucking delight

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

I’m okay…just let me turn my pain into art

I try my best to take delight in my life and enjoy everything good
but fuck it, if I have to be honest with myself-
sometimes the depression gets the best of me
and I drink and write sad and pathetic things
about how I want to cut my wrists and watch the blood leave my body
maybe I’m just embracing the cliche of being a tortured artist
or my darkness needs a place to fucking go-
at least I’m now acknowledging it instead of suppressing it-
and I almost spiral into a cycle of self loathing
but instead say “fuck it- this is who I fucking am sometimes”-
An emo girl caught up in her trauma and hormones-
Wait-how did this poem turn into–
Oh yeah-the prompt delight
well whatever this is its the best drunk and depressed me has to give
to my creativity tonight

Posted on by pattytacuri

Sharing my story

Me at open mic last month

What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make? Why?

I’ve taken off my mask and stop repressing my true self-
And while it’s terrifying at times, I show the world my authenticity
and vulnerability
I share the parts of my story that are terrible, happy, sad, lovely, crazy, beautiful, and tragic
so others don’t feel alone and find solidarity
in my chaotic and bicultural story of love, rage, defeat, hate, and resilience
And bring to light my rich and vivid experience of the duality of being a rooted and rootless,
Peruvian and American, a hateful and kind woman living her life fearlessly and shamelessly

4/24/23

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: hope for the future

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

sometimes it works though

for a long time I had given up on love-
thinking why should I even try
If I screw it up each and every time
but lately I feel myself lighter, happier-
and full of hope
that even after my disastrous love history
That’s still a world of romance left to experience and explore
There’s still more muses to write poetry about-
my love story didn’t end with an electronic pink slip
or being blocked from my whatevership
my love story will start over again
with someone who’s brave and strong enough to handle me-
and can’t imagine his life without me

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: no place like home

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

melodramatic Peruvian Energy..jajaja

my final step in returning to myself was returning to my homeland
once I finally found my stable sense of identity I had desperately searched for
since I could remember-
I felt like Alice in Wonderland
my eyes wide open, my mouth opened in awe-
taking in the glorious sights and sounds
of my birthplace
the 32 years away from it didn’t matter
the ocean, the mountains, the city welcomed me back
Reminding me it had always been there for me to come back to
and the powerful and profound emotions I felt in standing on the ground
that saw my birth and early childhood
made me understand there really is no place like home

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: staying sober

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

fucking facts

staying sober from a lover is not easy for a love addict like me
it’s crying in bed wishing I was dead
it’s loneliness, making me crumble in a ball on the floor
making me feel unloved
and even though I have the cure with a text
to someone who’d put me out of my misery
I’d rather suffer for a while
even if it is a hell of a withdrawal
because if I’m ever going to have a healthy relationship
I need to be comfortable first with solitude
and the much needed introspection and healing it brings

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

poetry: another day

Aqui esta la version en espanol:

Poesia: Solo y Agotado

another illegal dies under suspicious circumstances and no one cares
or mourns him,
some even comment on how he should have stayed in his country-
and it’s hard to understand the inhumanity, the hateful rhetoric
Is his life worth less because of his ethnicity and immigration status?

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: trauma undisturbed

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

You will always be a secret that I’ll regret
one that makes me full of shame and guilt
one I’ve tried to block again and again unsuccessfully
It’s something I will never talk about
it would cause my inner world much harm
so I’ll keep quiet about it
Swallow it whole
It’s a story of trauma that doesn’t need to be told

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: saint tracey

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

me with my oldest in 1998

saint tracey assured me my life wasn’t over
she showed me love and compassion
when everyone else shunned me
she accepted me for who I was
and encouraged me to follow the path of success
she saw the hidden potential in me
when other teachers saw laziness
she was a prayer from God
sent to me to remind me
my mistakes don’t define me
and that I was still worthy of the love
and goodness in the world

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: time

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

I’m ready to claim my success

“This is your time” the moon goddess whispers to me in a dream
she puts her hand on my shoulder and a jolt of magic spread throughout my body
I stumble and almost fall-
but catch myself in time to stand up-and feel my power rise within
I am invincible, I am empowered, I am ready to fulfill my potential
and claim my success