poetry: pirate party

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

what that bad boy did to me

sultry July night at a pirate party
fiery red Dionysian hair, body made by Gods
caught his eye from a distance
he wanted her, he craved her, he wanted to fuck her
he approached her
right away she saw through his toxic fuck boi vibe
Said “no thanks”
and introduced him to me
I was already 3 drinks in, mesmerized by his body
Covered in tattoos from head to toe, his boyish smile
felt an electric energy between us (or maybe that was
the buzz from my third margarita)
he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, I WANT THIS BAD BOY!
within a few minutes, we assessed each other and flirted
he asked me for my phone number, giddy, I gave it to him
and that was the beginning of the end of me
and almost 6 years later, my friend still says,
“Sorry, I introduced you to him”

poetry: Kam Hwy

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

me at 12 when I lived in the duplex

ramen 3 times a day in the dingy 2 bedroom duplex
and it was an upgrade from the miniature apartment
in mid city L.A
the one where there was a bullet hole in my window
so what if the stripper and the landlord’s son
got in screaming matches
so what if the marine next to us beat his wife
weekly for her infidelity
despite the poverty experienced, despite the trashy
and toxic domestic energy
that dingy duplex was freedom to me and my family
it was hope and salvation from the nightmare
of indentured servitude L.A had been

poetry: fujimori’s legacy

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

me at age 9

thousands of indigenous children never made, never born
Fujimori’s presumptuous superiority and cruel policies
caused this inhumanity, this crime against the most marginalized
the poorest
robbing thousands of women of their right to procreate
a shameful part of Peru’s history
thousands of indigenous children mourned
who were never planted, never had a chance to bloom
perhaps their existence was a threat to those in power
full of corruption, now we’re never know

Abril : El Mes de la Poesía

Alejandra Pizarnik – mi poeta favorita

Es abril nuevamente y no solo florece la primavera, sino también la creatividad que la acompaña. Y, por supuesto, es el mes nacional de la poesía y todos los años desde 2022 intentó participar en NaPoWrimo, que es una actividad en la que escribo un poema al día y lo publico en mi blog. Estoy emocionado de ver qué poemas locos se me ocurren. El año pasado mi poema favorito fue uno picante que escribí sobre Yung Gravy y que terminé leyendo en frente del público . Además, este año, decidí darles mis propios temas originales para inspirarlos a escribir sus propios poemas. Si quieren pueden enviarme su poema y lo publicaré en mi blog o simplemente pueden guardarlo entre las páginas de su diario. El año pasado tenía como objetivo publicar mis propios mensajes para el Mes Nacional de la Poesía y aquí estamos. Este año decidí usar los títulos de los primeros 30 poemas que he escrito.

cuando tenía 15 años cuando escribí mi primer poema

Mi Corazón

La Llave Especial

Mi Alma Gemela

El Idiota

Niño

El Canalla

Aquella “Noche

La Magia de Fleetwood Mac

Asesino

El Desenlace de Mi Adolescencia

Todavia Sueño Contigo

Siempre Una Novedad

Fue La Quimica

Desgraciado

Gracias

Traicionada

Querido

Estas Despido

El Miedo

El Compatriota

Te Amo

Otra Estupida Mas

Algo de Ti

Fantasia Exotica

Mar de Desgracia

El Estante

Pasatiempo

Olvidarte Sería Un Sueño

Seguiste con Tu Vida

Un Amor Liberal

El Principio

Otro Hombre Confundido

Mentira

Mi Valor

ojalá que encuentren su musa/muso

telling the story from 2007 on

3/9/2025

I’m always finding ways to challenge myself. Best of luck to me!

so it’s been a while since I wrote a blog post but as I’m planning on continuing to tell my story through poetry from 2007 and forward, I wanted to be honest with anyone who has been following my story. so as some of y’all have noticed, I’ve been telling my story by posting poems I wrote from 1996 and on. I have translated all of those poems. As some of y’all have also noticed, I’ve also started heavily revising those poems or writing new poems inspired by those poems and posting them but always providing a link to the original. It seemed like a messy thing to do at the time but I did this to challenge myself and to grow as a writer. Having said all that, between the years of 2007 and 2018, I hardly wrote any poems, so I don’t have a lot of poems to pull from to continue to tell this story the way I want to tell it. I did however write a lot of opening lines for poems or just random quotes between this time. I figure that I could still tell my story through poetry by using those opening lines or quotes as prompts for new poems. I’m not sure if this is foolish or crazy or both but for me it’s important to continue to tell my story through poetry and it feels like this is the way to go. And of course, I’m going to translate all of those poems into Spanish. If you’ve made it this far, thank you for being here. This is more or less a brain dump and a way for me to be honest about my process for how I’m going to proceed in telling my story. I also wanted to add that I’ll restart telling the story in May to give me a bit of time to write those poems and revise them. We’ll see what happens.

poesía: la uni

here’s the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=12321

no me puedo pasar desapercibida en esta mundo privilegiado
edad equivocada. apellido equivocado, etnicidad equivocada
sintiéndome destinada para fracasar en esta universidad
mientras que la presión para triunfar cuelga
como una soga sobre mi cuello
pero no me doy por vencida
y me presento todos los días
si solamente para darle una enseñanza a mis hijos
a como seguir adelante cuando quieres renunciar

poesía: ira y furia

escribí este poema en Marzo de 2024.

yo y mi tacos contra El mundo

la ira y furia de mis antepasados femeninas viven en mi
ellas me visitan en sueños y me mandan mensajes
que cuentan sus historias, sus verdades aunque duelan,
aunque algunas me llamaran sádica y dramática
ellas me inquietan y me dicen
es tiempo de gritar todas las injusticias
y trastornos vividow
que nuestras muertes no han sido en vano
y aunque lloro y trato de ignorar la llamada de la sangre
es inevitable-fui escogida-
para sus venganzas, para sus historias de redención