Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: eggnog

I wrote this poem in November of 2025.

a shot of eggnog for every time love went wrong
and I end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning
something about the holidays always triggers my depression
and now that the kids are older I no longer have to fake cheerfulness
to be a mom to them
and now that I’m alone once again, I regress back to the bitter bitch
I was before him
and instead of reaching out to him and sending him the dozens of poems
about his departure
Instead, I drink several shots of alcoholic eggnog while listening to olivia rodrigo
as I go into hysterics rereading every single chapter in my book of lust and love
trying to accept I’ll always be a failure in love

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: absurd

I wrote this poem in November of 2025.

Become medusa the minute I’m jealous,
left for another or ignored
and out comes my pouts about how
I’ve been so wrong
I become a monstrosity of absurdity
as I distort reality
but really, none of it was really that deep
all these men were silly passing up
a masterpiece like me
and none of the ever deserved
my angry or creative energy

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: I know what I want

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

hope in my eyes
me in Autumn of 2021

I’m ready to start living without demons from my past visiting me in my dreams
or showing up in my poetry
I’m ready for a new love story with someone who’s completely different
from anyone I’ve ever known
not someone who causes me physical and emotional harm
only to later one fill me with pseudo apologies and promises to change
I need someone who’ll make me laugh and understand there’s sometime conflict
and won’t judge me for my complicated and traumatic past-
someone who’ll stay through my bullshit
someone who won’t scare away easily
I’m ready for a new love story where for once I’m the heroine,
the protagonist, the main character,
and not the villain, the victim or someone’s dirty little secret

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: sour

I wrote this poem in November of 2025.

and all of my poetry about them lives here

I never asked any of my muses to become the inspiration
behind my poems
I just take whatever they give and run with it
Sometimes it’s sour, sometimes it’s sweet
most of the time, will be left unseen
a conversation between me and my journal

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: fantasy

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

I wonder who you are-
Will you magically appear one day?
Or are you already in my atmosphere?
somewhere hidden, someone I hadn’t thought of
someone I never would have looked at-
do you stalk me on social media?
do I blow you away or scare you with my poetry?
do you think twice about sliding into my DMs?
do you fantasize about me before you go to sleep?
or maybe you don’t exist and this is one of my fantasies
I just want a hint whether or not you’ll be part my near future

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: real monsters

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

in the dark shadows of the earth
lies the outliers and outcasts
the ones we many times ignore
or only talk about in quiet whispers
we pity them, we’re afraid of them, we avoid them
we don’t want to catch their disease of poverty or insanity
we don’t know how to see their humanity
and honestly it makes us, and not them, the real monsters

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: my song

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

my heart sings a bilingual song in imperfect castellano
and a fluent English
entre carcajadas y calor de mi comunidad de Athens
between my few childhood memories of Lima
entre las risas de mis hijos
between my parents many sacrifices
entre Wham y Slyvia Plath
between Bad Bunny and Gustavo Becquer
llevo América en mi corazón
I carry Peru in my veins
canto esta cancion con amor y dolor
I sing this song with love and pain

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: pesadilla

I wrote this poem in September of 2025.

once again the united states of white supremacy throws another wrench at my community
making it more of a crime to exist as we are
trying to erase our culture, trying to shame us for our heritage
trying to force us into assimilation by any means possible
trying to target us for simply not fitting into their idea of what America
should look and sound like
and I stand up in defiance and say, a mi me vale madre pendejos
estoy que desde 1986, sembrando raíces en California, Hawaii y Georgia
y me quedaré aquí como su peor pesadilla
una mujer latina, criada y educada en este país
que no se dejara llevar por la marginación y racismo constante
de esta administración
y que luchará hasta el último respiro por quedarse aquí

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: not promised tomorrow

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

just me and my entire universe

we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must make the best of our todays-
creating community with our friends, reconnecting with our roots
loving our children with a loud fervor
we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must appreciate
everything we have
the legs that take us on walks and runs
the creativity that flows from our minds
the laughter shared with loved ones