Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: some storms

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
like the first steps taken after an invasive and life changing surgery
like the victory dinner after the termination of a marriage
that never should have happened
like the first drive alone after beating a 15 year driving phobia
like the child graduating at the top 10 percent of his class
even though the odds were stacked against him
like the rainbow child born after enduring the nightmare
of losing one
like still being here and writing a poem about storms and rainbows
even though many times you’ve been tempted by thanatos whispers to end it
some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
because rainbows are hope, magic, and joy that make a life worth living

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: That Last Text

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

The first and last time I tried to die
I tried to get everything right
I wrote letters to my loved ones
and swallow each pill one by one
All that was easy enough
but really dying was tough
Something inside me was too stubborn
And sent one last text out to a friend
who alerted my husband
Between her and him, I never reached my end
but in that moment
I understood the suicidal writers and poets
Living is exhausting,living is agonizing
I yearned for the sweetness of death
to take away my mediocre breath
But the universe or God had other plans
And today I finally understand
Living is painful,living is terrible
But living is also beautiful
and really living is admirable

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: Tacos de Carne Asada

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

saliva drips from my month as a gentle desire overtakes me
tacos de carne asada with onions and cilantro in front of me
he knew exactly how to start melting the jaded and bitter bitch in me
he knew how to lure out the romantic in me who’s terrified to start anew
and while to some it may seem like a simple gesture
he knew that to me it meant everything

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: hinge part 1

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

johnny didn’t make the cut

Downloaded hinge to become unhinged
the fountain of inspiration was waning
and I needed a dose of new character energy
even if some of those characters are icky and shady
even if some of those characters annoy me
I can’t keep writing about the same old repetitive stories
reheating old trauma for the purpose of making art
after a while, it gets exhausting
after a while, it makes no sense since I’ve forgiven them all
and honestly, I can’t do another 4 years of Trump
Celibate and devoid of any romantic energy

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: sweet little princess

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

the nuns and mami started into obedience and I reverted into a world of silence
And  everyone praised mami about what a good little girl I was
and no one thought much about this
until my parents demanded answers for the rebellious streak in my teens
couldn’t understand the numerous absences, the subpar performance in school,
why I sulked in my bedroom for hours on ended, the disrespect from my mouth
as I stood up for myself, they wondered where their sweet and quiet princess went
all the while they should have looked back 6 or 7 years ago
when they indoctrinated me to hold it all in or else they wouldn’t love me
should have known one day I’d rebel and explode as I was finding my spirit,
my voice once again after it had been buried under layers of good behavior

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: lucky

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

I am a witch and sometimes a bitch
if you’re lucky
You’ll see the sweet side of me where I’m your real life magical wet dream come true
If you’re unlucky, you’ll meet the BPD me
the worst bitch you’ll regret meeting in your entire life
because if you treat me badly, I’ll make sure
you’re laugh at when I read a poem about you
at open mic

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: the task of failure

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

If failure was a task I would be the poster girl for it
I’m a failure at love, I’m a failure at life,
I am a failure at Being Human
but all of these are thoughts of the past me
the new me doesn’t see herself as a failure
or that she has ever failed at life
she sees failure as a stepping stone and learning curve
the new me sees herself as a winner of life
and not the loser of 1
because she never gave up or didn’t give in
or because she’s a resilient queen

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: sister loretto

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

short gray hair, steely blue eyes, red nose, transparent white skin
stern hands with a wooden rules in them
always ready to correct an unruly and wild child
who talked too much, who wiggled in line or at their desk,
who walked a thin line between angel and mortal
her presence intimidated me and scared me to tears
and a Godly fear of disappointing her quickly set in me at age 6
and quickly I learned how to swim
found that the key to never feel her wrath was silence
and unconditional obedience
by blending in with the walls, with my desk, only speak
when spoken to, ask permission for everything
even to breathe, become a good little soldier of the Lord
forget Spanish and leave my immigrant identity at home
it’s how I survived 5 years of religious indoctrination
it’s how I became an american

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Morning 2021

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

When I open my eyes,I whine and grunt
Another day where I whine,whine, whine
Working to live? Or living to work?
I can’t remember which is better
Living is really just guesswork
Maybe today I won’t feel so much anger
Perhaps I should find hope in this new day
Instead of living in doom and gloom
Maybe the darkness will stay away
Or I’ll cry at work in the bathroom again

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: searching

I wrote this poem in March of 2023.

let’s go hurtling into a glass door together ….

a lot of us search for someone or something
to complete us or make us feel like we are enough
we’ve been brainwashed by society’s conditioning
that we’re incomplete without a lover
or without our career goals satisfied
and this is really toxic and false narrative
we need to stop believing in
we should look instead for the amazing in the ordinary
and appreciate how it’s a gift to just be human and exist