Poetry: Company

I wrote this in 2002 about my former friend Brad. He was the type of “friend” that kept trying to sleep with him and I tried to have boundaries with him. I guess I should have seen the red flags then.

Growth begins by choosing yourself

My dear friend
Why do you want to stay with me tonight?
Is it because you’re lonely?
Or is it because you’re sad?
Or maybe you just crave the company of my warm body
Sorry but I can’t allow it
Because I’m selfish
And want to keep memories of you pure
and free of any sexual intimacy

Reflection: My Relationship with Poetry

it’s like that

Poetry is and always has been a big part of my life. Poetry is everywhere . Poetry is in the lyrics I sing, it’s in the love I make, it’s in the beauty of nature, and even in the grief I feel. Since as long as I can remember, I’ve used poetry to process my feelings.

At first, it was me finding comfort in song lyrics when sadness or anxiety hit me even as a young child. I remember being 5 and belting out the heartbreaking lyrics to Juan Gabriel’s song “Querida: or the romantic lyrics Daniela Romo’s “De Mi Enamorate”. When I came to the United States in the 80s, I learned English at school but also through song lyrics. I remember at 6 or 7 singing the lyrics to George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” or Rick Astley’s “Together Forever”.
Around 6th grade when I started getting crushes on boys that never gave me the time of day, I would alternate between being angry and singing salty songs like “Someday” by Mariah Carey or singing and crying to Boyz II Men’s “End of
The Road”. Yes, I’ve been super dramatic and emotional since I can remember. Haha.

Here is a short playlist of these songs:

Poetry Feels like

And then came the age of the internet when poetry became accessible to me with just a few clicks. I remember being ghosted by this ex when I was 15 and finding this poetry forum with poems full of teenage angst, anger and sadness. It was incredible to me that there were other people feeling how I felt. Yes, some of these poems could be called cringy and corny – but it got me through what I thought was the worst heartbreak I was experiencing at that time. Here are a few of those poems

I Want to Know by Cammi Thorn
Ride by Unknown Poet
Check Please by Unknown Poet


Around this time my mom noticed my new fondness for poetry and introduced me to the love poetry of the Spanish poet Gustavo Becquer and I swooned. This is my favorite poem of his:

Asomaba a sus ojos una lágrima, y a mi labio una frase de...
Rima XXX by Gustavo Adolfo Becquer

Eventually I started writing poetry to process my feelings and this is one of the first ones I wrote inspired by what else-a breakup. Haha.

Jaded me at 15

In some of my blog posts, I’ve said that I shouldn’t have written poems about so and so and should have gone to therapy; and while that may be true, poetry was also a type of therapy for me. Whether it was writing salty and angry poems or processing feelings of infatuation or existential dread; poetry has been one of the few constants in my life

In my 20s, I discovered Maya Angelou’s “Phenomenal Woman” and Sylvia’s Plath “To a Jilted Lover” and my love for poetry became even stronger.

Phenomenal Woman - Maya Angelou Photograph by Maria Angelica Maira
Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou
To A Jilted Lover by Sylvia Plath - To A Jilted Lover Poem
To A Jilted Lover by Sylvia Plath

At that time, I also found the courage to join the literary club in college and start reading my own poetry in front of my peers. I call it brave because poets that share their poems, whether it be through open mic night, social media, a blog, or a book are sharing an intimate part of themselves with the world. They’re sharing their vulnerability, their grief, and sometimes even their most private thoughts. It’s brave to do this in a world that shouts at you to “fuck feelings “or tries to tone down the many emotions we as humans feel as we go through this beautiful and complicated thing called life. Sharing your poetry can feeling like opening and inviting the world to your innermost and private thoughts.

For me, poetry is part of how I process life. Sharing my poetry through my blog or at open mic sometimes feels like the last step in healing from trauma. I told my therapist that sharing my poetry through my blog feels cathartic because afterwards it feels like I’m completely done with revisiting a traumatic event. I’ve also received comments from people that they’re related to my poetry because of something similar they’ve felt or have gone through and that’s the other reason I share my poetry. IF even one person can relate to any of my poems and it makes them not feel so alone then I’ve done my job as a poet.

My Pathetic Little Beast

Poem: The Objectification of Eliza

I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow.

Often men want this girl…the ones that’s always down for a “good” time
BUT run away from this one….the other girl …the vulnerable one that has a realness hard to accept

Tell me I’m pretty, tell me I’m sexy

Tell me I’m beautiful

Objectify me, fuck me, 

Forget about me

And then

Try to come back to me

And when I deny

your lust filled request,

Put me down, threaten me

Try to hurt me-

Your words mean nothing to me

You’re not the first 

But will be the last

Who tries to destroy me

You’re not the first 

But will be the last 

Who treats me like a doll

to fuck at your convenience

You’re not the first

But will be the last

That tells me I’m not good enough

Tell me you miss, tell me you want me

Tell me you’re sorry

Be persistent in your quest

In trying to get me in your bed

with empty promises

about how this time it will be different

Sorry to my past, my present, and

future lovers-

I am pass being the girl

that’s just used for fun-

I am pass being the lover

you never introduce to your mother

I’d rather live in a world 

of solitude and calm

than to once again fall

into the objectification trap 

Poesia: Falsa Esperanza

Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John. Estaba tan decepcionada de el. Fue difícil dejarlo ir.

Pero fue lindo

Yo tenía la esperanza
Que tu eras el hombre
Que yo tanto esperaba
Pero después de ver
la fea manera que me trataste
Ahora me doy cuenta
En realidad los que tu piensas
Que no mas fui
Cualquier otra para ti
No fui algo especial
Nunca te iba a importar
Y ahora me quedo sola
Y estas lagrimas
que se convierten en un mar

Poetry: Stupid Game

I wrote this poem in December of 2002 cause well dating sucks and it’s still timely. Haha.

2002 was such a rough year for love

I hate playing this stupid game
Called dating
Trying to decide
Which move to make
So you can have him at checkmate
It’s no longer about falling in love
Or even real feelings
But it’s about winning
So if sit here wanting to hear hisvoice
I don’t dare give in to this yearning
To want to call him
Because then they’ll almost be winning

Poesia: Algo Pasajero

Escribi este poema en Diciembre del 2002 porque estaba amarga y triste que los hombres siempre me tratan como un juguete.

Asi me siento a veces

Los hombres me miran
y yo sé que ven
Nada más que ese algo pasajero
Que nunca de amor se atrevería hablar
Pero ya me canse
De la manera que me ven
Porque yo soy más
que un cuerpo en sus camas
Porque yo tengo sentimientos
Y quisiera algo verdadero a mi lado
Porque ya no quiero ser
Nada más que una de sus muchas amantes
Porque algún día quisiera tener
Un verdadera hombre
Que me vea mas allá
Que una de sus muchas faldas
Y va a querer saber quien soy en realidad
Para empezar a amarme!

Poesia: Adios

Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de todos los pinches canallas que me han roto el corazón.

un hombre muy sabio

Adiós es todo lo que se puede decir
Cuando tu ser mas querido te hace sufrir
Aguantarte el derrame de lágrimas
Es lo que tienes que hacer
Para que el vea
Que eres una mujer fuerte
Callarte los gritos dolorosos
Y no le mirés a sus ojos
Y sonreír por más doloroso que sea
Para salvar alguna parte de tu dignidad
Y para que el vea
Que no logró su meta
De hacer lo que quiera contigo
Que para él no más fuiste un juego
Y después cuando él se arrepiente
De ser un desgraciado ser
Tu le puedes decir por fin
Nunca más te deseo cerca de mi

Poetry: Gone

I wrote this in December of 2002 and it wasn’t inspired by any breakups, it might have been inspired by a movie I watched or a book I read.

it’s like that sometimes

I woke up one day
To see that you had gone away
All you left was a note
You could no longer cope
With our love mess
You had tried your very best
To be the man I wanted you to be
The one who only cared for me
You had only pretended to be true
And now you say the time has come
You’re sorry it took so damn long
All that is left is goodbye
You tell me to not even ask why
You wish me the best in life
One day I’ll make a great wife
And with your signature you sign off
I hope that someday you’ll find true love

Poetry: Mistake

I wrote this in December of 2002 after I had a one night stand with this dude I met in a bar and he didn’t tell me he was married. I found out a few days later when a coworker told me. I felt shame, guilt, and like a dirty whore for what happened even thought I knew that this time I was an unwilling homewrecker. It was rough.

deserved an award for biggest douchebag

This was a mistake
I wish I could unmake
I didn’t mean to kiss you
And I didn’t mean for us to screw
But the alcohol got to my head
That somehow led me to your bed
And now you have to understand
Our destiny has been written in the sand
You will never be the man I dream of
Who will deserve the best of my love
So now it’s about time
for you to open your eyes
What happened between you and I
Was chemistry I could no longer deny
So stop trying to interrupt my life
And just go back to your wife

Poetry: The Ending

I wrote this about John in 2002 when he ghosted me. I really liked him so I was really sad. Feelings of worthlessness came up and it was hard to not feel so shitty.

exactly

Our love has ended I know
There’s nothing more to say
To make you stay
We were too different, you said
I guess I was just too damn naive
To think someone like you
Could fall in love with an ordinary girl like me

Poesia: Moriste Para Mi

Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John. Estaba bien enfadada que el me rechazo y abandono porque su madre no aprobaba de mi.

eso

Tu moriste para mi
Cuando te fuiste de aquí
Y decidiste que yo no era más
Que una de tus muchas faldas
Pero tu te equivocaste
Al pensar que yo soy cualquier otra mujer
NO! Yo soy algo divino y estupendo
Que pena que tuviste miedo
Pero sabes algo
Ya no hay modo
De que algún día te perdone
porque eres un cobarde
Y ya no me importa
de amar tu nunca fuiste capaz
Y quizás es mejor así
Ya no me puedes herir
Y habré llorado bastante
pero de mi ya no te doy un instante

Poetry: Lust High

I wrote this in December of 2002. This was written about John before he ghosted me. If you can’t tell already, I have a tendency to idealize the men in my life.

it be like that sometimes

I haven’t felt this way in a while
I just get high from talking to you
You just drive me so damn wild

You just don’t know
How you about kill me
When you have to go

Now I couldn’t even imagine
Living without your presence
You are my most wonderful sin

And I will pray every night
That my love you never try to fight

Poetry: Extremely False

I wrote this about John in 2002 after he ghosted me after taking me to see his mom. His mother didn’t approve of me-an uneducated single mom. It was rough and of course I took it personally. So John fell off my pedestal and it was a long fall.

truth

Perhaps you feel too smart
to let someone as ordinary as me
into your heart
Perhaps you think I’m not good enough
to be deserving of your love
Perhaps you are only sure
I’m just good for pleasure
Perhaps you wear a know it all smirk
And believe I’m just like any other girl
Perhaps you believe in your head
I’m only good to warm up your bed
But darling I’m sorry to say
You won’t get your way
Because I respect myself too much
To let myself melt with your touch
Because I am worth a lot more
than any of your trophy whores
Because I have an actual mind
Without you I’ll be just fine
But mostly because I would never fall
For someone so extremely false

Poetry: My Son Throws His Blocks

I wrote this poem in 2006 about my middle child who was toddler at a time. He’s actually my birthday twin and very much like me personality wise.

My Second son as a toddler

My son throws his blocks

They hit me like rocks

So much damn temper

Within my little fellow

Little does he know

About the bad people that sew

many, many spiderwebs

to put you under duress

and he throws and he throws

Like life’s unexpected woes

Those wooden things hit my head

he won’t listen to what I say

He sure has an arm 

for knowing how to harm

In this just a phase

in this life of a maze

Finally he stops and looks

It is another tantrum in the books

I think this is a preview 

to his ever changing mood