Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: IHOP

I wrote this poem in August of 2020.

this was the best AI generated Art could do…idk,,lol

I met you on a cold January night at the IHOP
across your apartment complex
As I was eating up my loneliness
with scrambled eggs and coffee
I hoped you couldn’t see remnants
of tears that had fallen before you came
and you sat across from me
and as we awkwardly made conversation
I wondered if you would be the one
to breathe new life into my almost dead existence
I wondered if your kiss would help me
reignite a fire of desire, would remind me
I’m more than a wife and mother
But most of all I wondered if maybe, just maybe
someone would finally love me

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: tradition not kept

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

me with my oldest in August of 2023

Children should be seen, and not heard is one tradition I’ll never keep
It would mean invalidating my children’s feelings
It would mean for them to have years of therapy trying to find their sense of identity
It would mean to reduce them to shadows who only speak when spoken to
It would mean passing them the torch of a generational curse that makes them question their self-worth over and over again
So everyone can judge me or criticize my parenting all they want
I like my children to not just be seen but also heard
even if it’s sometimes loud and boisterous
even if it sometimes sounds disrespectful
It’s important for their emotional growth, for their confidence
and to break and heal the generational curse where children are silenced

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: pecadora

Here’s the English version of this poem:

Poetry: Dying Innocence

Temblaba con vergüenza por la electricidad
que sentía entre sus piernas
sería esto la maldad del cual las monjas
que le habían advertido
estaba desesperado por parar
pero no podía
seria que acabaría quemándose en el infierno
por ser adicta al placer que sentía
cada vez que se entregaba a él
una caricia de él y ella
se convierte de santa a pecadora

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: could we have done more?

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

ai generated art

could we have done more?
could his story have had a different ending?
could we have all been more compassionate-
more open instead of entrenched and absorbed in our own worlds?
all of these questions are asked, days or week or even months
later, wondering-if we carry any blame or responsibility
when someone ends their life with their own two hands

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: patriarchal bullshit

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

I know too many Kens IRL

complaints about the Barbie movie appear
only from the privileged white men on my timeline
and I shouldn’t be surprised
even if those men call themselves allies or feminist
it speaks volumes to me that they voice their opinion at all
about it and decide to post their sexist bullshit
and maybe this is coming from a middle-aged woman who’s crazy
but it’s hard to see that in this instance
Why men can’t stay in the backseat and allow women to shine brightly
without the patriarchy trying to dim their light

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesia: es mi vida

here’s the English version of this poem:

Poetry: Did I Ask For Your Advice?

los consejos y críticas de los otros
me hacían sentir como una fracasada
como que no estaba haciendo lo suficiente
para mejorarme
y cuando era una chava esto me volvía loca
pero ya que soy una señora
me rio, tomo lo que útil y rechazo lo demás
y sigo con mi vida

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: dumpster fires

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

best advice ever

all of us have been or will be dumpster fires
it doesn’t matter who you are
man, woman or non binary
white, black or brown
with or without a mental health diagnosis
working class or upper class
at one point or another we’ll all be toxic to another person
or to ourselves
some of us admit it and cringe
some of us will ignore it or blame someone else
all of us have been or will be dumpster fires
it’s a rite of passage

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: paper flowers

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

not bad for it being AI generated

she makes paper flowers in reverence for a love that died-
for a love that never deserved her goddess energy
it’s grieving a past, present, and a future
with a lover
who brought toxicity and comfort
and it’s almost indescribable how she feels
it’s mourning a love story she was never ready to end

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poesia: caricia

here’s the English version of this poem:

Poetry: Risen

había perdido toda mi fe
hasta que sentí tu caricia sobre mi mano
me miraste con deseo y sonroje
nuestra pasión se despertó
después de haberse dormido por años
¿será un ensueño corto o la posibilidad
de una nueva realidad para nosotros?

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: reaching out

I wrote the poem in August of 2023.

so in love with myself

I reach out to my unhealed parts when they show up
they’re the messy and crazy parts I hide
the parts that still long to be codependent on others
and are terrified of my new autonomy
the parts that try to bleed into my present
and prevent me from reaching my fullest potential
I reach out, embrace them and whisper
“Our story will be better than okay,
we just need to trust the process”