Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: crayons and guns

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

me with my oldest son in October of 2022

With excitement in his eyes, my son used to bring me pictures of made up monsters
Drawn with crayons-
With pride in his stance, he now brings me target sheets showing me how he’s well on his way
to becoming a decent shot with a revolver
When did my child go from crayons to guns?
It seems like I blinked and he went from four to twenty four
He went from being a rambunctious little boy who was hard to keep up with
to a strong and independent man who no longer needs me
And while I’m full of joy about this transformation-
I still miss the carefree days of crayon drawn monsters

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: fighting with my teenage son

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

me and my teenage son when he was toddler

Me and my teenage son fight and I regret it the next day
I’ve watched too many people mourn their sons this year
I’ve felt the screams of those close to me
asking God why he took their babies too young
Young men who will never be fathers,
Young men who will never see their children grow up
into rebellious and sassy teens
and while I understand conflicts happens between
parent and child
I also know we’re both on borrowed time
and I don’t want our angry words
to be the last exchange between us
if its his or my last day today

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: panic attack at work

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

have compassion for yourself

The wild elephant visits me and threatens my sanity and I can’t breathe-
Waves of trauma hit and overwhelmed my mind and body
It’s time for fight or flight and I choose flight-
A few minutes in the bathroom when I count my breaths and calm my inner child
who is screaming internally because she feels unsafe, helpless, and scared
And middle age me quells her-puts on a blanket of strength and resilience
Tells her, it will be okay and she’s safe-and I’ll protect her-
And within minutes I’m back to my normal self-
go back to work and take out any remnants of my panic driven energy
on the product I have left to stock

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: chiste

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: To the Man I Can Never Have

Es casi un chiste decir pero todavía pienso en ti
todavia de extraño
aunque ya se que me has olvidado
porque vi el anuncio de tu matrimonio en el periodico
ojala que a esta le seas fiel,
que a esta la ames de verdad
y no le hagas otra víctima de tu desamor y infidelidad

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: that extra shift

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

worst shift ever

I don’t want to work that extra shift but my discover statement
tells me otherwise-
it tells me that once again I’m falling into a world of debt-
for daring to live a life above my means, above my class
and if I’m not careful I can slip back into poverty status
so I’ll work that extra shift and stop trying to live
a higher class life that’s not meant for me yet-

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: a new love story

I wrote this poem in October 2022.

Maybe I need a new love story-even if it’s temporary
so I can find relief and some peace from this loneliness
That’s making me into an insane mess
Maybe losing myself in someone else
Will stop making me feel less-
or perhaps what’s really happening
It’s me allowing my depression talk me into finding a solution-
for my neverending frustration with healing and growth
and always having to look within for what I need
But perhaps if I had somebody maybe for once, I could just be

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poesía: humanos

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: When Something Bad Happens

hay veces que el universo o Dios no tienen razones
por las cosas malas que nos pasan en la vida
hay veces que es necesario de desahogarse
en un ataque de ira o furia cuando una tragedia pasa
no nos hace malos o inmaduros, no hace humanos