if I had a pet, I would want them to understand how to pose for the camera. My kids learned real quick and were posing by the time they were 4 to 5 months old. Also, this seems like silly prompt but whatever I’m answering it only cause I promised myself to answer every prompt on wordpress this month.
aqui esta el poema original que inspiró este poema:
Poesía: Falso 2005
we were another lesson in love lost and mourned
I tried everything to make it work
even where it was past our expiration date
I never wanted our children to be products of a broken home
but even my best efforts could not fight how different we were
or our long term story of incompatibility
it wasn’t your fault or mine
we were just both too stubborn to see what was in front of us
a friendship that should’ve stayed platonic
but you fell in deep for me
and I was tired wanted to settle
and we made it work until one day I realized it wasn’t enough
so I was named for my mom’s sister Patty. My aunt Patty was also the rebel and the baby in the family. My mom named me after her because I had another aunt who wanted me to have her name and my mom hated being pressured about it. So she was pregnant and feeling petty and named me after my aunt Patty. Growing up I was intimidated by her because she was the beauty bombshell and I was this awkward and shy kid growing up. Maybe she’s who I channeled when I pose in my pictures, lol. Anyways, like me she’s also divorced and has three boys of her own. We also both go by Patty rather than our formal name cause Idk Patricia feels like it belongs to some old stuffy Irish nun. Anyways, unlike me, my Aunt Patty is a fabulous cook while I can hardly make rice. Her ceviche will make you cry not only because it’s spicy but because it’s super delicious. As far as the etymology of the name which is such a boring thing to investigate, here’s a link to it:https://www.etymonline.com/word/Patricia
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
My heart betrayed me last night
it was on the same page that I need to put any hope of love on hold
Until I’m free of my marital ties-
Until I’m no longer suffering of any residual trauma
from my last failed romantic relationship
but in one night, my heart betrayed my mind
And it felt euphoria and everything that comes with meeting
the potential of love
And while my mind tries to reign in my feelings
My heart says “sorry, we’re already in too deep”
here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Andrew
cuando me preguntan acerca de mi primer amor
siempre pensaré en el
aquel muchacho alto con los ojos marrones profundos
fue el primero que me trato con respecto y como una princesa
Nuestro cuento de amor fue casi como una película de disney
fue algo mágico y bello
pero algo tan bonito no puede sobrevivir en este mundo cruel
lleno de realidades que se tienen que enfrentar
aunque nos amábamos con una pasión hecho de fuego
no fue suficiente y nuestra llama de amor se apago
y nos fuimos por caminos diferentes
el hizo su vida y yo la mía
pero aunque han pasado más de 25 años
cuando me pregunten que fue mi primer amor
siempre pensaré en el
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
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
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.
I remember being super excited and happy going on this bus ride because going to Oxapampa has been a dream of mine for quite some time. Oxapampa is the town my dad was born in and raised. When my dad talked about it, it always seemed picturesque and like something out of a fairy tale. I was also excited to meet my dad’s relatives (aunts and uncles) who helped raise him and the cousins who he played with. His relatives also seem to be larger than life characters who were genuine and good people according to my dad’s description of them.
when I think about my most memorable road trip, I think of my 10 hour bus ride I made from Lima to Oxapampa when I went to Peru last spring. It was memorable in a good way. The company we booked the trip with was wonderful and me and my son were mostly comfortable. So the trip to Oxapampa meant going up into a high altitude of 5951 ft above sea level from the 528 ft above sea level altitude in Lima. We were advised to consume coca leaves before going to prevent motion sickness so we went to the pharmacy and they gave us coca leave in pill form.
Our seats themselves were super comfortable and we could recline into an almost bed so we slept super comfortable. They also had screens where we could watch American movies dubbed in Spanish. One reason we were super comfortable was because we were on the upper deck of the bus which had more space for seats. Of course, we paid more for this V.I.P seating but damn , it was well worth it. Unfortunately and fortunately, it didn’t have WIFI so I just listened to my downloaded spotify playlist. There was a lot of Conan Gray and Taylor Swift I played on my way there. We went at night so we slept most of the way there but I did manage to capture some short videos of what I saw outside the video. We went through a lot of provinces and small towns. Here’s a short video of going through Pasco. This was shortly before we arrived.
I also want to mention that going on this bus ride was also kind of exhilarating because some of the roads are treacherous and narrow and sometimes we were going on terrain that was high. That meant if the driver lost control of the vehicle, we were SOL. Haha. It’s a good thing that a lot of drivers in Peru start driving between the ages of 12 and 14. There’s probably more I will write about this trip. So when we arrived, my great Aunt picked us up and we stayed at her air b&b on her property. Where we stayed had this rustic and magical vibe. I’ll probably write more about this trip that was life changing and healing in so many ways but for now, I’ll just answer the prompt for bloganuary about memorable roadtrips.
If I had my gluttonous way
and I wasn’t counting the sodium content
in fucking everything
I’d devour an entire bag of chili cheese fritos
in between purchase orders and writing poems
I’d stress eat the fuck out of them
I’d even offer some to my friends
everyone needs to taste this salty and crunchy treat
everyone needs to get addicted to this devilish snack
that had me buying 4 bags at the time when it was on sale
me and Chili cheese fritos were the most epic poem,
a match made in consumerist heaven
until middle age and genetics brought on high blood pressure
and my addiction to chili cheese fritos had to end abruptly
so for now, I’ll write silly poems about how I can’t have the one thing
I once was addicted to and still crave
and hope that once I get my blood pressure under control
I’ll be reunited with my comfort snack
and we’ll be together again as I write, as I cry
as I lay on the couch binge watching
some depressing show on netflix
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
does someone have a voodoo doll of me and stuck pins inside my head-
inside my heart-because lately I’m finding it hard to breathe
as my emotions consume and control me-
and I feel like the biggest failure and imposter for allowing it to happen
even though I still function well enough to mask
the mountain of turmoil and grief that’s currently residing me
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
Jealousy is a normal emotion of the human condition
and shame shouldn’t be associated with it
everyone feels it
I used to run away from it
but now I sit with it
ask what it needs
Sometimes it’s me projecting an insecurity
or sometimes it’s a legit feeling
And that’s okay too-
and jealousy doesn’t have to destroy anything
as long as I know how to acknowledge it
and don’t allow it to consume me
An item of my youth I was incredibly attached to was my doll Dandee. I actually had two of these dolls given to me as a young child. The first Dandee was given to me by my aunt shortly after me and my family immigrated to the states when I was 5. This was in 1986. What happened to the first Dandee? Well, it’s a sad story of trauma. When me and my family first moved to the states, we moved into the apartment next to my aunt C and her family. The living situation there was not ideal. Actually that’s the understatement of the year. Here’s a poem I wrote about her:
poetry: target
Anyways my aunt C owned the apartment we were renting so she was our landlord. She was also the one who was giving sponsorship for our green card. At the time we immigrated, we had done so four years earlier than we were supposed to so we lived undocumented for four years. So my Aunt C took advantage of the situation because A) with a call to immigration she could deport all of us back to Peru and B) she was our landlord so she also held control and power over where we lived. It was a terrible situation. Aunt C had a massive 3 year old son J. He was probably one of the most terrible toddlers I’ve ever encountered. Aunt C would not control him and when he would bully me, either hit me or take away my toys, Aunt C would say, “dejalo, es chiquito” which basically translates to “allow him to do whatever because he’s small”. It was hard for my mom to say anything to her or protect me because of the living situation we were in with Aunt C. The best she could do was take me somewhere else. Shortly after Dandee was given to me, he became my most favorite toy in the world. He was given to me by my favorite Aunt Luz. That toy went with me everywhere. However, one day, Dandee was taken away from me by my cousin J, and he wouldn’t give him back. My aunt didn’t do anything to remedy the situation. According to my mom, this broke my little 5 year old spirit and I was inconsolable and cried and cried for days. My papi was upset that my mom wouldn’t say anything to Aunt C. He hated to see me cry every day for that damn doll so even though they really couldn’t afford it (it was an expensive doll), papi went to the toy store and bought a brand new Dandee for me. I was a happy child again taking that doll everywhere with me. Playing with him and my imaginary friend Calincha. Anyways, a few months went by and I was at my aunt C’s house with my mom. I was playing with Dandee and my cousin J came up to me and started trying to take the doll away from me. The adults weren’t doing anything and I got angry. My five year old self could not take the bullying from J anymore and was not going to allow him to take my doll away from me so I punched him and he fell to the floor. I wasn’t punished for it and went back to playing with my doll. My mom tells me that her and my aunt C were surprised by what I did and had no idea until that point that I had a temper. I was always such an obedient and quiet child, it was shocking to them that I had it in me to fight back. Needless to say, my cousin J never messed with me after that day.
So fast forward to 37 years later, that Dandee sits in my bookcase in my room next to the baby Yoda I bought for my youngest son a few years ago (that he didn’t want anyways cause it looked creepy). When I look at Dandee, I’m reminded of my fierce and fiery spirit at 5 years old that I’ve carried with me since then. When I told my sons the story of Dandee, my oldest son said, “Dandee carries your 5 year old warrior girl spirit” and that felt empowering to me. Dandee taught me a lesson in how to take my power back from a situation I thought I had no power or control in.
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
we won the national championship and everyone is so happy
and I feel nothing
I graduated from UGA but never felt included
so while I’ve pretended to care, I’ve always felt like an outcast
in a town who cares more about football and idiotic art
and bike lanes for woke and privilege white people
than for their poor and marginalized communities
I wrote this in January of 2023.
Yesterday I wondered how it would feel like to travel at the speed of light
I almost thought of trying it as I drove-but knocked out that intrusive thought
as the faces of my sons came to my mind-even in the worst of my crazy moments
my boys come to rescue me-reminding me I have so much to live for
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
to little me, I’m sorry, lo siento
I’m sorry, lo siento
There are no words that could make sense
or give purpose to what you went through
it was awful that your childhood was tainted by trauma
that wasn’t acknowledged
or that your feelings were invalidated
by those who promised to love and protect you
I’m sorry , lo siento
I’m sorry, lo siento
and while I know my words are insufficient to lessen
the pain and trauma you experienced
I’m here to acknowledge it and make sure you can heal from it
Life on the BPD 