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Poster Girl for Failure

this is so true….makes lemons out of lemonade

How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?

I used to think I was the poster girl for failure
I’m a failure at love, I’m a failure at life, I’m a failure at everything
but all of these are thoughts of a past version of me
the version of me who saw herself as a victim
the version of me who took comfort in her misery
in my middle age I changed that narrative
I no longer see myself as a failure
I see myself as a person who makes mistakes
who’s deeply flawed, who has caused pain
it’s doesn’t make me a loser or a disaster
It makes me a human who’s trying her best to live her life
and sometimes that doesn’t always look pretty
I now see failure as stepping stone,a learning curve
to continue to grow, to continue to evolve
to become better and healthier than I’ve been before

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: The Zeitgeist of COVID Times

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

me in March of 2020 when the Pandemic started

Toilet paper, hand sanitizer,
Masks, COVID tests

the judgy quarantined
Karens and Brads
or
the overwhelmed essential
workers

Solitary confinement
or
Endless work hours

Creative new hobbies
or
No time to think or sleep

Neverending restlessness
or
Neverending adrenaline rushes

Mental breakdowns for all
This was the Zeitgeist
of COVID times

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Uncomfortable

Describe the last difficult “goodbye” you said.

in order to grow, we must lose parts of ourselves that hold us back from reaching our potential

saying goodbye to the version of me I used to be was uncomfortable and agonizing
even as I lost her in parts
first came the extra pounds and inches I ran off from the curvy girl who used food as comfort
and for a while a stranger stared at me from the mirror as I wondered where my cleavage went
or how my waistline got so small
then came the spectator and the passenger I lost as I gained confidence and power in sharing my truth, in sharing my art and I became the main character and the driver of my own life
finally I lost the princess who held onto others for safety, who relied on others for acceptance and love-she left on a windy October day when she conquered a phobia that haunted her for 15 years
saying goodbye to the version of me I used to be was uncomfortable and agonizing
but she couldn’t stay around if I wanted to grow, to evolve, to become the mother my children
always deserved, to become the woman I always wanted to be

Posted on by pattytacuri · 7 Comments

Poetry: The Writer’s Fight

I wrote this poem in February 2022.

me around the time I wrote this poem

To write is to fight
words that cuts like swords
How do I stop this torture?
of suppressing a petty light

Pen stabs paper with might
about past regrets and lost love wars
and memories best left ignored
of a dreadful and chaotic life

To write is to fight
Demons I want to hide from
But I can’t help but succumb
to my constant inner fight

Pen stabs paper with might
and I try to find closure
about past lovers
I write from love and spite

To write is to fight
Do I really need to say that?
Yes,it’s my trauma to unpack
and my words take flight

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Poetry: Last Day of 40

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

me on the last day of 40

Last day of 40 and it feels like the longest year of my life
My 4th decade started with the miracle of what I thought was true love
But nope-it was another story of disillusionment and loss
growth and progress became the theme in my 40th year
I beat a 15 year driving phobia and made art from heartbreak and trauma
and I’m no longer scared to live my truth out loud
with my family, friends, and my online community
I also learned I was enough and complete by myself
and never needed someone to validate my existence
And as year 40 closes,I’m amazed by my creativity and resilience
and how time and time again I turn my trauma and grief
into the ultimate comeback story
For year 41,I hope to continue to thrive with calm and tranquility
and enjoy the magic I found within

Posted on by pattytacuri · 6 Comments

Poetry: A Knock on My Door

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

this kid makes my dark days worth living

When darkness comes in and my sadness sets in
it covers me and I can’t see the point of it all
And then I hear a knock and it’s my son
And I remember, today he’s my life’s purpose
I need to get up and face another dreadful day
My child needs food and shelter
I can’t let my depression win
I’m a mother first
My darkness will have to be martyred
Remembering over and over again
on days like today my child’s presence
makes my bad days worth living

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Existing

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

Existing was this never ending sorrow
Existing was a “what the point of it all” status
Existing was a horrible and exhausting nightmare
I couldn’t want to wake up from
But now..
Existing is welcoming the excitement of the morning sun
Existing is looking forward to my next chapter
Existing is a hopeful and lovely dream
I’m currently living in

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

Poetry: Temporary Cure

I wrote this on Valentine’s Day of 2022.

me on Valentine’s Day of 2022

I fucked many recklessly without a purpose
some part of me was looking for love
it was a temporary cure when I wanted to avoid emptiness
it was a temporary cure for my painful loneliness
so I used the the magic of my body
to feel like somebody, like I was worthy
But one day I got tired of how it wasn’t enough
and found my worth and self love
I mean, sure it was fun but I’m done, done and done
I forgive the person I once was who mistook lust for love
I didn’t know any better and settled for prince charmings
when I really needed a king to match my love energy
A king who accepts all of me and not just her body
A king who wants to evolve and grow with me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: My Happiest Moments

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I’m 18 and walking across the football stadium to receive my diploma
the one I almost didn’t get, my parents and I breathe a sigh of relief

I’m 24 and I hold my baby boy in my arms, it’s love at first sight
he’s the best birthday present and I’m humbled

I’m 28 and I’m graduating from college,it’s been a an arduous journey to get here
but I make it and my dad cries and tells me how proud he is of me

I’m 30 and holding my third baby boy, he’s my rainbow after the worst storm
everyone in my family holds him and there is an overflow of love

I’m 36 and my oldest son is walking across the gymnasion to receive his diploma
I cry with elation and pride, my heart is filled with pride and joy for him

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: Forgiving My Younger Self

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I forgive myself at 15 for crying over an idiot
who was never worth my time and energy
but he did spark my poetic voice

I forgive myself at 20 for writing more than 50 poems
about a 6 week relationship in 2001
but it did make for some hilarious blog content in 2021

I forgive myself at 25 for not fighting harder for my dreams
and for swallowing my anger and angst for the comfort of others
but that year I became a playwright

I forgive myself at 30 for drowning the writer in me
as I lost myself in my roles as wife and mother
but that year I launched my blog

I forgive myself at 35 for swallowing a bottle of xanax
because I felt like a failure as wife, mother, and worker
but the dark poetry from that time is some of my best

I forgive myself at 40 for wanting to die for two weeks in July
after being discarded by the “supposed” love of my life
but that summer I found the confidence to call myself a writer