Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: holy spirit

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

ese escote es pecado

my first lesson in forgetting spanish came at age 6,
that first week in first grade at holy spirit
when Spanish came out of my mouth and sister Loretto screamed at tme
and threatened me with the ruler
I don’t remember what she said bu t I was deeply impacted
learned to be good, to be obedient was to forget who I was
and quickly I made my brain believe English was better,
English was the language for survival in my adopted homeland
and like a sponge, I absorbed it
I didn’t lose heart when I was placed in the lowest reading group,
didn’t cry when I mispronounced a word, and my classmates laugh
I just kept on going
understood that my parents sacrifice in coming here needed to be worth it
there was so much pressure on my shoulders to succeed at age 6
instead of playing make believe and getting lost in disney fantasies
my priority was to learn English and become my parents american dream

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: lies we tell ourselves

I wrote this poem in March of 2023.

the sexual tension between me and ghosting everyone is insane

we lie to ourselves continuously about our needs
to save face, to avoid conquering our fears
to not feel insecure
we’ll tell ourselves we are better off alone and independent
when in reality as humans
we are meant to be social
we are meant to share ourselves with others
but it’s cooler to say, “I’m good with my solitude,
I’m my own best friend”
because deep down inside we don’t want to get hurt again

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Her

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

Haircut
Selfie with haircut

her warmth keeps me safe and loved
it protects me from the harshness of this world
I call her Mami

her strength inspires me to stand up for myself
it makes me want to become a better version of myself
I call her my sister

Her ability to be there for me keeps me from dying
It keeps from falling into a dark abyss
I call her my friend

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poetry: 2012

I wrote this poem in March of 2025.

in total darkness I fell for a while
for a year I didn’t listen to music
For a year I don’t remember being a mom
and while I still function and went to work
Several years later
I realize how I had forgotten all about
the darkness I had fallen in a while ago
my mind blocked it in an attempt to move on
in an attempt to heal

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Poetry: Daydreaming about America

I wrote this in March of 2022.

Sept of 1986-me blowing out a candle right before me and my family started our immigration journey-my aunt had a goodbye party for us

When I was little, I was often lost in daydreams
about America
It was beautiful and blue
I pictured a celestial and warm ocean
where the waves tenderly touch my toes
I was taught it was a better existence than
the one we were living in
but no one told me that dreams sometimes
don’t come true
and the reality of America was filled with a hardness
that even 35 years later I’m still processing
indentured servitude, exploitation, depression,
addiction,racism, mental illness were just a few side effects
of going for the American dream

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: soldier

I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

I’m soldier of love
too lost battles for me to count and recount
how many times I’ve had to stitch my heart over and over again
from the many knives past lovers have stabbed me with
with the last one, I almost lost all hope for love
It made me lose my sanity and almost gave me PTSD
Still the romantic in me refused to die
and resurfaced this year
Told me, “this time it will be different, this time you have self respect
and you’ll be choosy over who’s worthy of your love energy”

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: second chance

I wrote this poem in February of 2025.

raindrops serendipiciously hit the window panes of our room
and the wind sings a song everyone can hear
I lay on your chest in our bed in awe of what just happened
caught lovestruck with a smile of love
thankful for this second chance at marriage
for so long I thought I was doomed to be alone
never expected to find you
especially the way you showed up in my life
and now there isn’t a space between us
and you look at me with goofy smile of yours
the one that inspires the poet in me and say
“we need to make up for lost time”