Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: my joe goldberg

I wrote this poem in May of 2025.

my joe goldberg is back and a sense of doom overwhelms me
especially because I know how psychol this Joe is
from thinking he’s in love with me because of my blog
to remember the constant barrage of harassment I endured from him
for a few years, I got a major case of the icks
and while I should be extra happy my blog is getting ten time the views
it normally gets
it creeps me out entirely knowing it’s him
knowing that somehow my blog and my pics on there
are fodder for his spank back and his many delusions

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: May 6, 2025

I wrote this poem in May of 2025.

one day I’m going to make her proud of me with my book

it found me on a tuesday afternoon, inspiration for a book
a poetry book of sorts telling my life story
and while this has happened many times
I pray this one sticks because I have all of my material
in my google docs
at the very least, it’s given me inspiration as to where
to go next

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: the hunger games

I wrote this poem in May of 2025.

it’s the hunger games time again
I meant the MET Gala
where celebrities show off their ostentatious
and grotesque expensive outfits
while the majority of us are trying
to make sure all of the bills are paid,
wondering if we do indeed deserve our weekly treat
at starbucks, while some of us are being deported
to countries we don’t belong to
or that we don’t remember for the sole crime
of being brown and having the right documents

it’s the hunger games time again
oh I meant the MET Gala
and of course we’re shocked Sabrina
didn’t wear pants and that Rihanna is pregnant again
even though half a world away in Gaza,
moms are burying their children,
that’s if they’re lucky to find them under the rubble
and the Good Ole USA is on it’s way
to becoming a Nazi state and half of us
are in a cult devoted to Trump while the other half
are struggling and unsure of where
to look for comfort, for reprieve from all
of the fires burning

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: Dual Enrollment

I wrote this poem in May of 2016.

The bangs tho
2002 vibes with bad bangs

I didn’t think this day would come so soon

I wasn’t prepared for the emotions I would feel

“doomed to be another “statistic” “when I had you at 17
they said

And when at 4, when the diagnosis of autism came
“Good luck to him to becoming a productive member of society
they sai

“No way, will you succeed ,brown autistic boy,
son of a teenage mom”
they said

Yet here you are –
proving THEM wrong

Here is where you belong

not yet graduated from high school
but starting your first college classes
Tonight

Here is where you belong

despite the obstacles,the haters, society
trying to diminish your light for being different

here is where you belong
-on the start of a journey to success

and here I am beaming with pride
And love for you, my beautiful brown boy

defying odds and statistics,
and everyone who ever stood in your way.
as you write your own David and Goliath story

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: some storms

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
like the first steps taken after an invasive and life changing surgery
like the victory dinner after the termination of a marriage
that never should have happened
like the first drive alone after beating a 15 year driving phobia
like the child graduating at the top 10 percent of his class
even though the odds were stacked against him
like the rainbow child born after enduring the nightmare
of losing one
like still being here and writing a poem about storms and rainbows
even though many times you’ve been tempted by thanatos whispers to end it
some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
because rainbows are hope, magic, and joy that make a life worth living

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: That Last Text

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

The first and last time I tried to die
I tried to get everything right
I wrote letters to my loved ones
and swallow each pill one by one
All that was easy enough
but really dying was tough
Something inside me was too stubborn
And sent one last text out to a friend
who alerted my husband
Between her and him, I never reached my end
but in that moment
I understood the suicidal writers and poets
Living is exhausting,living is agonizing
I yearned for the sweetness of death
to take away my mediocre breath
But the universe or God had other plans
And today I finally understand
Living is painful,living is terrible
But living is also beautiful
and really living is admirable

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: sweet little princess

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

the nuns and mami started into obedience and I reverted into a world of silence
And  everyone praised mami about what a good little girl I was
and no one thought much about this
until my parents demanded answers for the rebellious streak in my teens
couldn’t understand the numerous absences, the subpar performance in school,
why I sulked in my bedroom for hours on ended, the disrespect from my mouth
as I stood up for myself, they wondered where their sweet and quiet princess went
all the while they should have looked back 6 or 7 years ago
when they indoctrinated me to hold it all in or else they wouldn’t love me
should have known one day I’d rebel and explode as I was finding my spirit,
my voice once again after it had been buried under layers of good behavior