Poetry: Borrowed Time

How does death change your perspective?

word press prompt of the day

lately I feel like I’m on borrowed time-

lately I feel like I’m not doing enough 

and  lately this fucks me up

so I over work, over exercise,

and over post

to make myself worthy of my existence

I want to make sure I’m leaving 

some kind of imprint, some kind of legacy 

behind that I’m remembered by

but it’s really me trying to please 

the inner critic in me

who comes out when I’m most vulnerable

in my grief

Poetry: Duality

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I’m constantly shunned from men who profess their love
when I show up feral and without a filter
They’ll call me their princess until I show them my wild
They always love me beautiful and submissive
and they leave when I get assertive and subversive
They feel deceived when they fall for a polite princess
And somehow end up with an amazon Queen
Maybe it’s the Incan in me who can’t reign it in
They say, “you’re too much, you’re too crazy”
Is there a man out there who can handle my duality?

Poetry: My Happiest Moments

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I’m 18 and walking across the football stadium to receive my diploma
the one I almost didn’t get, my parents and I breathe a sigh of relief

I’m 24 and I hold my baby boy in my arms, it’s love at first sight
he’s the best birthday present and I’m humbled

I’m 28 and I’m graduating from college,it’s been a an arduous journey to get here
but I make it and my dad cries and tells me how proud he is of me

I’m 30 and holding my third baby boy, he’s my rainbow after the worst storm
everyone in my family holds him and there is an overflow of love

I’m 36 and my oldest son is walking across the gymnasion to receive his diploma
I cry with elation and pride, my heart is filled with pride and joy for him

Poetry: Forgiving My Younger Self

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I forgive myself at 15 for crying over an idiot
who was never worth my time and energy
but he did spark my poetic voice

I forgive myself at 20 for writing more than 50 poems
about a 6 week relationship in 2001
but it did make for some hilarious blog content in 2021

I forgive myself at 25 for not fighting harder for my dreams
and for swallowing my anger and angst for the comfort of others
but that year I became a playwright

I forgive myself at 30 for drowning the writer in me
as I lost myself in my roles as wife and mother
but that year I launched my blog

I forgive myself at 35 for swallowing a bottle of xanax
because I felt like a failure as wife, mother, and worker
but the dark poetry from that time is some of my best

I forgive myself at 40 for wanting to die for two weeks in July
after being discarded by the “supposed” love of my life
but that summer I found the confidence to call myself a writer

Poetry: Bilingual

I wrote this in January of 2022.

me at work living that bilingual life

Stuck in between Spanish and English
is a bilingual nightmare
constantly switching between languages
gives me a lifelong jaqueca
and at times I don’t get it right
it’s switching between two identities
Latina or American
it gets hard and confusing at times
but it’s who I am
Hablo con mamá en Español
I speak to my sons in English
Hablo con los pacientes en Español
I speak to my coworkers in English
and to code switch parece una comedia
I’m told that I’m fun and loud en Español
pero soy profesional y reservada in English
eventually I learn to meld
my American and Latina personalities
and I find my most authentic
bilingual and bicultural identity

Poesía: Advertencia

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/26/poetry-why-dont-you/

porque no te armas de valor y le dices la verdad
en vez de correr de tus sentimientos con infidelidad y borracheras
estas haciendo dano a ti y a ella
pronto tu conciencia te devorara
no te estoy juzgando, estoy preocupado por ti
la gente está empezando con sus chismes
hasta piensan que soy la causa de ti infidelidad
y mientras me río de sus chismes
nuestra colega me contó la verdad
que ella es cómplice en tu infidelidad
y la mirada en su cara me dijo todo
ella está desesperadamente enamorada
esto es un juego de amor peligroso que estás jugando
donde tres personas se van a quemar

Poesia: Maletera Del Carro

Escribi este poema en enero del 2022.

Iba en la maletera del carro
llena de las mentiras de mis padres
que toda estaría bien
y nos íbamos hacia la alegría
a un lugar misterioso y mágico

Iba en la maletera del carro
asustada y llorando lágrimas
mientras mi mami me abrazaba
me decía”cállate, pronto llegaremos a
nuestro destino”

Iba en la maletera del carro
y casi me sentía sofocada
pero mi mami me susurraba
“duérmete, casi llegamos”

Iba en la maletera del carro
y cuando salimos
el sol no sonrió
y fue el primer dia
en nuestra nueva patria

Poetry: The Revenge of the Karens

I wrote this in January of 2022.

Karens always think they’re the best

one day the karens will rise up and protest on the streets
with their short blond hair auspiciously blowing in the wind
and their know it all smirks, armed with latest iphones
in their gucci bags with signs that say, live, laugh and love
or I want to speak to the manager
they’ll stomp in their $100 uggs with a purpose
to be seen and heard
with a purpose to complain about everything
wrong in their world
with a purpose to take their name back
one will get on the megaphone and talk about the oppression
they face because of their name or the pale color of their skin
or their higher social status
and people-well they’ll laugh at them,
they’ll love the absurdity of their message
and live for this-the least empowering moment in history