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poetry: charade of love

I wrote a version of this poem in 2005. It was about my frustration with the relationship I was in at the time.

Drown in passion
Drown in passion

I’m hanging on to my last thread of sanity
trying to accommodate to our new reality
I know monotony happens even in the best relationships
but this feels like the death of our love
Where did your yearning for me go?
You used to worship me and call me Godly
now I can barely get you to look at me
and when I say anything, you call me crazy
so I’m going to swallow my words
and pretend I’m okay with this charade of love

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poetry: candle

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

no fuck you and your pedantic machismo- oh and PWM =privileged white male

I light a candle, put on music, and pay tribute to all that I will never be-
it’s not like I’m denying myself possibilities or opportunities
I’m just acknowledging certain realities
I’ll never have the proper words, the necessary pretentious words
of the upper class pedigree to be published in one of those prestigious journals
or win a pulitzer prize
I’ll never be seen as an equal in American because I’ll always be a foreigner
and while this brings me a certain kind of grief
I also celebrate how different I am
I’ll never filter my words or fake eloquence or elegance
to make myself digestible to those with multiple degrees
Nah, I’m a mosaic masterpiece, with my bad grammar,
my simple vocabulary
and my powerful and emotionally charged phrases
I’m not and never will be for those with sensitive ears or palettes
and I’ll always take pride in that

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little moments of joy

sharing these types of memes bring me joy
Bloganuary writing prompt
What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?
View all responses

unexpected joy is felt over little things

the first time I tried on bluetooth earbuds

the wind against my face as I run

eating four types of ceviches in my homeland

awkwardly dancing with my dad’s classmates

laughing with my oldest son over something stupid

a meme about being crazy shared with my friends

its little moments like these that make life worthwhile

11/19/22

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poesía: mi primer amor

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

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my gen-z boss

me in my Kroger apparel ready to work hard and do my best for my gen-z boss
Bloganuary writing prompt
What makes a good leader?
View all responses

When I think of a good leader, I think of the good bosses I’ve been lucky to have. In my opinion, a good leader treats their workers with respect, is compassionate while also holding their subordinates accountable for their errors. A good leader also challenges and encourages their subordinates to evolve and improve. An example of a good leader is my gen-z boss at Kroger who’s always been kind and respectful to me and who has gone out of his way to accommodate to my scheduling needs when my life got crazy. He also gave and my other coworker a $100 gift card for Christmas. At 23, he’s more mature and way better than some of the bosses I’ve had who were way older. It makes me want to always work hard at Kroger. An example of shitty leader is Joe Biden. IMO, my genz boss would make a far better president than Joe Biden.

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poetry: contacts and glasses

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

still cute in my glasses

I go between contacts and glasses to fit my different personas-
in my contacts I’m a pretty woman with makeup and a dress
I become the kind of woman men are nervous to be around
or get intimidated by
In glasses I don’t care to capture the male gaze or even mine
it’s when I work that second job or I’m at home
it’s when I allow myself to just exist
not caring about the pressure to be attractive
or allow my social conditioning to take over
and tell me since I’m this crazy, I need to be pretty, sexy, charming
to validate my existence
Lately I prefer my glasses, lately I want the freedom to just be

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poetry: voodoo doll

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

if I’m going to be a mess, might as well be a hot mess

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

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poesía: me pierdo

here’s the English version of this poem:

Poetry: Unhappiness

me pierdo bajo tantas responsabilidades
y odio a la mujer que miro en el espejo
mi llama se apaga mientras me hundo
en la monotonía de mi rutina
todos me dicen que estoy loca
que debería enfocarme en mis bendiciones
pero mi mente me cuenta un cuentos diferente

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poetry: new year’s day

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

me in January of 2023

On new year’s day of 2023,I have resolutions but they’re simple
a trip to my homeland that’s been set in stone
teaching my son to drive
a divorce as a late birthday gift to myself
keep my bangs because that’s really who I am
pushing my oldest son to be more independent
Continue to share my poetry with the world unapologetically
Be wary of anything that pollutes my energy
try my best to ebb and flow with the turbulent waves of my emotions
take any obstacles that might occur in life in stride
make more time for my friends and family
become a new kind of brave woman
and continue to do things out of my comfort zone
to help me grow and evolve
become an example of determination, discipline, and creativity for my kids
to follow-
and continue to inspire others with my journey of self discovery
2023 will be chaotic with everything I’m planning
2023 will be the year where I’m the definition of bravery

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day twelve of patty: silence is no longer an option

I wrote this poem in December of 2023.

sharing my story is my life’s purpose

silence is no longer an option
if I continue to do so, I’d be suffocating the part of me
who needs to be heard in order to heal
I’d be failing myself, my ancestors, and future generations
silence is no longer an option
to do so is an act of violence against the writer and poet in me
whose purpose is to tell my story, my truth in order to recover

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poesia:nuestra canción

here’s the english version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/24/poetry-lucassong/

Nuestra canción suena en la radio
y el recuerdo de nuestra corta aventura de amor regresa
me pierdo en nostalgia y remordimientos
cómo es que una conversación de música
se volvió en unos de mis cuentos más dolorosos de amor
Cómo es que la vergüenza y culpabilidad de nuestro cuento de infidelidad
todavía me persigue en sueños y me hace sentir mal
quizás no fue tu intención causarme un infierno de trauma
Quizás debería superarte porque fuistes un desperdicie de mi tiempo
Pero a lo mejor es tiempo de perdoname y entender que hay algo de sanar
quizás contar nuestro cuento es la llave para recuperar
y poder enfocarme en el futuro que estoy construyendo

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day nine of patty: june 2014 me

I wrote this in september of 2023.

2014 me is proud of who we are now

The ME from June of 2014 sends me a message and asking, where are you?
I tell her, life didn’t go as planned-you’re divorced and looking for a place for your ex
but your kids are thriving-your oldest son has his driver’s license and is on his last semester
Of accounting at Athens Tech-
Your middle son will graduate from high school this year-
and your baby is now taller than you and becoming his own person
You’re working 2 jobs and you’re a citizen now and you’ve been to therapy
to learn healthier coping mechanisms-
you even drive now-you’re independent as fuck and live life on your own terms
you’ve even been to Peru twice-
You’re learning to follow your intuition and how use discernment in your choices
in how you live your life-
you’ve discovered your values underneath everything society brainwashed into you
and at the end of the day all you want be is a good mom and a good person
that’s the extent of your life’s purpose-
now that we know who we are
our next step is to plan the future we want-
we’ll keep on thriving girl-you were the go getter and determined woman in me
Even among one of my greatest depressions
You still got up and followed your passions-
And you laid the foundation-we’ll be okay-I promise
I’ll make you proud of me-
Love patty

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poetry: war chest

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

always thankful

in my literary war chest lies a lifetime of love failures,
insecurities about motherhood and confusion about my identity
in my literary war chest lies unfiltered thoughts about grief
for everything I never was and potential unfulfilled
in my literary war chest lies the answers to how I survived
Catastrophe after catastrophe-
In my literary war chest lies proof of my strength and resilience
in the worst of times

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day five of patty: on the shitty days

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

on the shitty days, get a baseball bat and take pics

not every day can be filled with peace, calm, joy or excitement
Some days are absolutely shitty and depressing
Some days it’s hard to get up in the morning
without screaming fuck repeatedly on your way to work
Some days are overwhelming to push through
as hormones and emotions fuck you up
Some days are for questions your life choices over
and over again allowing doubt and insecurity
to cloud you its accomplice self invalidation
Some days are for getting up only to look forward to the end of it
when you can sleep with the hope for a better day

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poetry: cut through the bullshit

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

step aside for those ready to read her

pride and ego keeps us from speaking our truths
we don’t want to be perceived as crazy or as a basket case
and we suppress, suppress, suppress-
only speaking with cordiality and respectability
when we should really cut through the bullshit
and let every unfiltered thought make it to paper
so we don’t drown in anxiety and depression
regretting everything that’s never been said