Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: autism warrior mom

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

we lit it up blue and made the colorful puzzle piece our life’s logo
Some of us wrote poems about it, some of us tattooed it on our bodies
we declared ourselves warrior moms and treated Jenny McCarthy’s book
like it was the bible, even blaming vaccines for our children being atypical
and supported Autism Speaks blindly, never question their intentions
trusting it was a safe place for our families
perhaps we were desperate for answers and a cure for our child’s neurodivergence
perhaps we were trying to help them get to what society deems as normal
but looking back now, we were messy and also part of the problem
because while the diagnosis helped get IEPs and therapy for early intervention
it also became how we defined our kids and ourselves unaware
that true understanding and awareness is acknowledging our children
are human beings first and foremost deserving of love, respect, and autonomy

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: Horace and Betty

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I’m both awestruck and jealous at their achievement
because I couldn’t even get past year 11 of my marriage
because now I can’t even get past a talking stage on any of the dating apps
because I can’t imagine the kind of saintly patience, understanding and loyalty
required for that kind of commitment

horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I wonder the fuck they did it
what was the magic key to unlock both their doors to a lifetime of shared love,respect
and vulnerability

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: hinge part 1

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

johnny didn’t make the cut

Downloaded hinge to become unhinged
the fountain of inspiration was waning
and I needed a dose of new character energy
even if some of those characters are icky and shady
even if some of those characters annoy me
I can’t keep writing about the same old repetitive stories
reheating old trauma for the purpose of making art
after a while, it gets exhausting
after a while, it makes no sense since I’ve forgiven them all
and honestly, I can’t do another 4 years of Trump
Celibate and devoid of any romantic energy

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Is that you, God?

I wrote this poem in April of 2022:

this was the image that inspired me to write this poem

I saw a cross written in the sky
and I wondered,
“Is that you God?
Is that your sign that I shouldn’t lose
faith or hope
and I need to keep going,to keep living?
Is that you God ?
Telling me everything will be fine
and one day peace will be mine

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: advice

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

my teenager gives my dating advice,
at 13, he thinks he knows everything
after watching an unhealthy amount of romantic animes
and getting his first girlfriend
says romance should be a slow burn
don’t hold hands until the twentieth date
and don’t think about the benefits of the men I’m dating
Concentrate on what my heart is feeling
and I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed
but then again at 44, I am the one divorced
with a trail of several trainwrecks relationships left behind
maybe I should take his words of wisdom seriously

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Faith

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

I find hope in nature

Faith found me one day
and told me to keep going when I didn’t want to
Faith made me believe in GOD when I wanted to fall
into the abyss of depression
Faith held me as I cried endless tears of my about
my latest life’s catastrophe
Faith loved me when I couldn’t love myself
Faith brought me people who believed in me
When I couldn’t believe in myself
Faith decided to one day bring it’s accomplice
HOPE

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

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: lucky

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

I am a witch and sometimes a bitch
if you’re lucky
You’ll see the sweet side of me where I’m your real life magical wet dream come true
If you’re unlucky, you’ll meet the BPD me
the worst bitch you’ll regret meeting in your entire life
because if you treat me badly, I’ll make sure
you’re laugh at when I read a poem about you
at open mic

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: 94

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

abuela, today is your 94th birthday and I still look for you
in mine and papi’s face
I still wonder how your story would have turned out
if you hadn’t been taken away from us at age 50
I still wonder if your spirit was with me and my son
on that magical day 2 years ago
I still weave parts of your story into mine
since our paths were so alike
and today I wonder if along your goddess cleavage,
I also inherited your fiery spirit and generosity
I wonder if right now you’re looking down on me
confused with the life I lead
or accepting and understanding I was made different
from the women in my family