Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Privilege and luxury

Very Proud Daughter of Immigrants

What’s the one luxury you can’t live without?

Privilege and Luxury


Luxury looks like the chauffeur
who drives me and my sister
to ballet classes
and my brother to karate

Privilege tastes like eating garlic cloves
in bed with my bunny
who wears a knitted hat
made by my Mami

Luxury smells like el amuerzo
of rice and over easy eggs
the maid serves us

Privilege sounds like a bomb
going off near our house
one of its residents
loses his hearing because of it

Luxury feels like my mami understanding
terrorism is at her front door
and applying for U.S sponsorship
through a relative

Privilege is having parents
who crossed the border
for us and with us
out of love and for our safety

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: jon benet lookalike

I wrote this poem in June of 2024. It was inspired by the disappearance of little Latina girl in my area that I didn’t feel was getting enough media attention.

it’s how this story made me feel

I pray for the little brown girl lost in Gainesville
the one that’s my son’s age
the one that looks like my sister at that age
the one who has my mami’s name
I pray she’s found alive
I pray that she finds warmth in her parents
arms soon
I pray more of a big deal is made out of
her disappearance
and she’s found quickly
because I’m sure that if this little girl
had been a jonbenet look alike
more would have been done to find her
and bring her back to her family
her community
that’s been missing her greatly

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: awkward

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

I’m a classy bitch

I’m ready for steak dinners and an expensive bottle of chardonnay
shared over awkward getting to know you conversations
with no expectations to put out
I’ll be a completely different woman when I’m dating again
a woman selective about who allows near her
a woman who no longer seeks validation and attention
from the wrong men

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: four letter word

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

imagine fumbling all of this

you could have been my forever muse, my forever thot
But like the others before you
you don’t know what to do with a woman like me
maybe my ingenuity is to blame for this
wanting to live in a delusional daydream of love
instead of grounding myself in reality
and radically accepting love is just a four letter word
in my vocabulary that wrecks and ruins my sanity

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: a snap 3 years later

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

remembering how I posted this snap so the muse of this poem would see it-lol

saw you and knew right away there wouldn’t be a second date
thought I made that apparent enough at the end
but 3 years later you send me a snap to ask me
if I’m still interested
Sorry
but the woman you met is no longer who I used to be
maybe you had a chance with her
but the new me-she’s careful who she gives access to
the new me has cut off any strings left
from the old life the old me use to live

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: can’t let go

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

age 8 before I discovered Mariah Carey

at 9, Mariah Carey taught me to look pretty
even as I’m suffering, even as I’m cast aside
for someone else
even as I’m crying and dying from grief
at 9, Mariah Carey taught me about
all of the lovely and terrible things
that come with falling in love
at 9, Mariah Carey gave me lessons
about life and love
I’ve carried into my middle age

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Oh SHIT!

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

me in my favorite dress

Ostracized, alienated, and abandoned for being too odd, too much
cried a million tears over the same story
too stubborn to learn from the tragic lessons sent from the universe
naively believed this one will complete me, this one will save me
it wasn’t until my middle age, I had a great catharsis and said
“OH SHIT, I AM ENOUGH!”
I let go of my damsel in distress story
wrote a new story of empowerment and love within
the pages of my journal
Wrote and wrote like a madwoman until I found peace
and closure from anything that traumatized me
come to the conclusion
the only hero I ever needed was the woman in the mirror

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: crush on gravy

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

my man

he can say anything because of his pretty privilege
I don’t know a woman alive who wouldn’t sleep with him
6’7, blonde hair, blue eyed norse God with silly rhymes
I’d be his working class Peruvian version of Sofia Vergara
Get rid of my empowered Incan Goddess persona
and become sweet and submissive just for him
get wrapped up figuratively and literally in gravy magic

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: she slips away from me

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

a toast to this higher version of myself

I’m lead to a higher version of myself after integration
it’s uncomfortable and I blush red in this latest transformation
annoyed and hate everything I write as most of it
takes a romantic undertone
I started to miss the woman-scorned and empowered
who decimated her exes
the one who came up with the clever phrase
electronic pink slip
but that woman is slipping away from me
transforming into a woman who wears her heart
on her sleeve with her poetry
transforming into a woman who’s grown bored
of hating her exes
and instead wants to be on friendly terms with them
transforming into a woman who understands
and accepts she not defined by her trauma or a diagnosis
and instead should lean into the magic of love
that lurks inside of her

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: I miss being a princess

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

me in my princess vibe

Sometimes, I wish I could go back to being a princess
go back to being a damsel in distress
needing to be saved, maybe then I wouldn’t be so lonely
but then I think of the sacrifices have to make
to keep up that persona
and every time it’s costs me my dignity and sanity
every time I’ve ended up almost committed in the psych ward
so for mine and my kids sake
I’ve burned my dreams of becoming a princess again
and keep on being the powerful and independent queen I am
living life according to my terms, being selective
who I give my lips and hips to
and understanding that to become a princess again
Would be a demotion to my identity