Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: happy valentine’s day 2023

I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

valentine’s day curse finally broke last year…

valentine’s day is around the corner
so we’re bombarded by teddy bears,balloons,
greetings with corny shit like
“for my wife, the love of my life”
and flowers, the fucking flowers
there are even journals for couples to fill out
in hope of getting closer-
I still can’t figure that one out
and stupid heart shaped everything,
from cookie cutters to pillows
and flowers, the fucking flowers
and most of us eat it all up thinking
if our partner doesn’t buy us anything
or doesn’t meet our romantic expectations
on the most materialistic of holidays,
then they must not really love us-
never occurring to us how this business of love
preys on us and our fear of being lonely
it capitalizes and profits from it
sending us messages that we need
to buy this or that (get the flowers,
the fucking flowers) to show our love
it’s a trap that followed us since our school days
maybe it’s time to riot and burn down anything
related to this dreadful holiday
especially the fucking flowers
or maybe I’m just a crazy and jaded bitch
alone on valentine’s day

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: it stops with me

I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

one of my reasons for doing all of the inner work

If only I could bypass the trauma lived and experienced
my life would be a lot easier
Perhaps I’d be fulfilled and not on this neverending heroine journey
to acknowledge how trauma happened to me
to understand how it changed me
to tells the stories from it so I can begin to heal from it
to do all of the work so I don’t pass it on to my sons
and their children
because this legacy of intergenerational silence with violence
needs to stop with me
even if it’s sometimes a painful nightmare to deal with

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: february

i wrote this poem in February of 2023.

feeling hopeful about february

life is smiling on me once again after a rough start to the new year-
I find myself almost open to new love
and everything’s inspiring me
and my King Joe is back on the screen
and now I got more money on the horizon
I’m feeling this state of euphoria by celebrating each blessing
and looking forward to new and exciting things
new creative endeavors, another trip to my homeland
and maybe even a new muse
It’s February and I feel myself glowing and growing

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: reflection

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

I’m proudest of the woman I became on Sept 8, 2023-my liberation day

I reflect a lot on who I was, who I am, and who I will be-
and I’ve reach the conclusion that I’m proud of all three versions of me
Constantly fighting my demons no matter how viciously they came after me
Constantly reinventing and rebuilding myself even when the chaotic earthquakes
of life broke me apart
I reflect on the goddess, the beast in me who always refuses to give up
who continues to get and keep going no matter how hard life tries to break me down

Posted on by pattytacuri

pandora’s box of trauma

it also helps in the healing process
Bloganuary writing prompt
What do you complain about the most?
View all responses

reopening my pandora’s of trauma makes me tear the old version of me apart
makes me revisit parts of myself I’d rather forget
and makes me angry at how my insanity was enabled
I know I should be compassionate, I know I should understand that the past
can no longer hurt me
but -oh-every time I open that pandora’s box of trauma
the fire of self loathing and rage threatens to consume me
and while I could leave that pandora’s box closed-
I have no choice but to open it over and over again
it’s one of the most important parts of my story
Emotional scars need to be ripped open and analyzed
to heal and make sense of who I am now

1/9/24

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: the highway

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

me right before I wrote this poem

Consorting with this newfound empowerment is overwhelming and lonely at times
I finally understand that never again do I have to depend on a man for anything-
and I breathe a huge sigh of relief
I no longer use them to determine my worth based on whether any of them
pay attention to me
I no longer use them for validation and no longer make myself small
for their ego
I now determined my own self worth and this is the moment I’ve been waiting for
since the age of 15

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

poetry: candle

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

no fuck you and your pedantic machismo- oh and PWM =privileged white male

I light a candle, put on music, and pay tribute to all that I will never be-
it’s not like I’m denying myself possibilities or opportunities
I’m just acknowledging certain realities
I’ll never have the proper words, the necessary pretentious words
of the upper class pedigree to be published in one of those prestigious journals
or win a pulitzer prize
I’ll never be seen as an equal in American because I’ll always be a foreigner
and while this brings me a certain kind of grief
I also celebrate how different I am
I’ll never filter my words or fake eloquence or elegance
to make myself digestible to those with multiple degrees
Nah, I’m a mosaic masterpiece, with my bad grammar,
my simple vocabulary
and my powerful and emotionally charged phrases
I’m not and never will be for those with sensitive ears or palettes
and I’ll always take pride in that

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: Karma

here’s the english version of this poem:

poetry: two pink lines

esa segunda raya rosada fue el Karma llegando cobrando su deuda
porque yo reze que mis enemigos de enfermen con COVID
y ahora moribunda en mi cama con una fiebre alta
le prometo al universo que será más cauta en mis palabras
y no dejaré que mi ira me controle

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: two pink lines

so I actually wrote this poem in December of 2022 after I got sick with COVID. This poem was actually inspired by the 2005 poem, “Here we again”- I was editing it to post it on instagram and something about it screamed turn into a poem about your ailment and this is what I ended with. God, my mind was extra crazy with COVID brain. lol.

I’ll never wish COVID on anyone ever again….

Here’s the original poem, it’s edited from:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/07/01/poetry-here-we-go-again/

Another unexpected surprise
confirmed with the second pink line
Is this Karma coming for me?
for wishing this on my enemies
this puts a pause on my life for a few days
and I lay in bed in a fever haze
soon I lose my sense of smell and taste
I’m humbled and make a promise to the universe
I’ll be more careful with my words
and stop giving into my rancor

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: i really mean it

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

having crushes in your middle age is so CRINGE

Cry in front of me and show me your vulnerable side
I won’t run away or shame you for sharing your pain
I understand what it’s like to be left alone
when you start to drown in your emotions
and you reach for someone and that person
turns you away
I will never be that callous
when I say you can be safe with me,
I really mean it

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

my gen-z boss

me in my Kroger apparel ready to work hard and do my best for my gen-z boss
Bloganuary writing prompt
What makes a good leader?
View all responses

When I think of a good leader, I think of the good bosses I’ve been lucky to have. In my opinion, a good leader treats their workers with respect, is compassionate while also holding their subordinates accountable for their errors. A good leader also challenges and encourages their subordinates to evolve and improve. An example of a good leader is my gen-z boss at Kroger who’s always been kind and respectful to me and who has gone out of his way to accommodate to my scheduling needs when my life got crazy. He also gave and my other coworker a $100 gift card for Christmas. At 23, he’s more mature and way better than some of the bosses I’ve had who were way older. It makes me want to always work hard at Kroger. An example of shitty leader is Joe Biden. IMO, my genz boss would make a far better president than Joe Biden.

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: Peruvian ME

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

I still wonder who Peruvian Me would have been-probably not wearing this beanie…lol

if my parents hadn’t chosen america as their new homeland
I wonder who I would’ve been
a woman of priviledge married to a man who loves me for me
or would it have been inevitable for me to turn out as a rebel who’d cause many scandals
would I have take my education more seriously because of the pressure from society and my parents
or would I have still struggled with my ADD and said fuck it
I wonder who Peruvian me would have been if I didn’t have a bilingual and bicultural identity

Posted on by pattytacuri

google storage says I’m running out of room

me when I start decluttering …lol
Bloganuary writing prompt
Where can you reduce clutter in your life?
View all responses

In an ideal world, I would reduce a lot of clutter in my life if my emotionally supportive ex husband moved out. I can’t kick him out though cause my children would cause a ruckus and hate me. Plus, I’m trying to be patient and give him time or find some way we can live apart (I’ve been set on this goal for years), I guess I could find other ways to reduce clutter. I could go through my closet and dresser and get rid of clothes I don’t wear anymore and donate them to goodwill. I could also go through my bookcase and donate books. Honestly, I need to go through my room and the entire downstairs of my house and do a deep decluttering and cleaning. I could also through my google storage and delete the videos, pictures, and files I don’t need since I’m always running out of google storage so this is something I really need to do. My problem is that with little free time I have off, I like to get lost in writing poems, reading, or watch TV and have no desire to do adult things unless I absolutely have to. I guess I could add it to my 2024 goals.

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: same,kid,same

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

the moment that inspired this poem

They laid him on my breast and told me,
“Meet your baby boy” and I was in shock
the alien on top of me is mine?
this wasn’t supposed to be part of my adolescence
I’m only seventeen and some days I barely remember
to brush my teeth
and now I have this great responsibility
and his beady and angry eyes questions
as to why his comfort was disturb-he already hates the world
and I think , same, kid, same