Poem: Immigration

I actually started writing this poem sometime in 2017 and finished it in January 2020. A big part of my identity is being an immigrant. This poem was inspired by the hardships and struggles I’ve seen my parents and other immigrants go through. This poem was also inspired by the Trump administration and the xenophobia that was felt in my life during that time.

Here is an audio link to my family’s immigration story: https://www.mixcloud.com/rabbitbox/rb50-stranger-in-a-strange-land-immigration-stories-patricia-tacuri/

me in January 2020 when I finished this poem

immigration leads to discrimination
of immigrants into this so called united nation
the ones with brown skin and dark eyes
justice to them is greatly denied
xenophobia is the driving sensation

their bosses sing a song called exploitation
and they hum along to it to live in this democratic nation
they leave their language and culture behind
to endure the american lie
but donโ€™t quite fit into the gringo equation

Is their sacrifice worth so much separation
from their families, their language, and their nation?
Ah-America – the land of the free
yet none of them are truly free
living in a soulless and consumerist society

poetry: two miguels

I wrote this poem in February of 2021.

my grandfather and son got that Miguel rizz

One was born in the beginning of the 20th century
the other was born in the beginning of the 21st century
one was born out of unplanned wedlock
one was a planned product of his parentโ€™s love
one was taught hatred for blacks and cholos
the other was taught blacks lives matter and equality for everyone
one had misogynistic tendencies thanks to his machismo culture
the other other is that gender roles and conventions are a joke
One went through the Spanish flu times
the other is going through Covid times
both shares similar genes generations apart
both share the same Spanish name
one could not been possible without the other

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-
itโ€™s not like Iโ€™m denying myself possibilities or opportunities
Iโ€™m just acknowledging certain realities
Iโ€™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
Iโ€™ll never be seen as an equal in American because Iโ€™ll always be a foreigner
and while this brings me a certain kind of grief
I also celebrate how different I am
Iโ€™ll never filter my words or fake eloquence or elegance
to make myself digestible to those with multiple degrees
Nah, Iโ€™m a mosaic masterpiece, with my bad grammar,
my simple vocabulary
and my powerful and emotionally charged phrases
Iโ€™m not and never will be for those with sensitive ears or palettes
and Iโ€™ll always take pride in that

poetry: Peruvian ME

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

I still wonder who Peruvian Me would have been-probably not wearing this beanie…lol

if my parents hadnโ€™t chosen america as their new homeland
I wonder who I would’ve been
a woman of priviledge married to a man who loves me for me
or would it have been inevitable for me to turn out as a rebel whoโ€™d cause many scandals
would I have take my education more seriously because of the pressure from society and my parents
or would I have still struggled with my ADD and said fuck it
I wonder who Peruvian me would have been if I didnโ€™t have a bilingual and bicultural identity

poetry: another day

Aqui esta la version en espanol:

Poesia: Solo y Agotado

another illegal dies under suspicious circumstances and no one cares
or mourns him,
some even comment on how he should have stayed in his country-
and itโ€™s hard to understand the inhumanity, the hateful rhetoric
Is his life worth less because of his ethnicity and immigration status?

poetry: target

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

Family life in the 80s
Family life in the 80s

my aunt treated us like we were inferior and subhuman
constantly pointing out our flaws with subtle sarcasm
putting pressure on my mom to choose her over us
insulting my father or sister
what about us made her project her insecurities
Was it my dadโ€™s intelligence or my sisterโ€™s beauty?
or maybe she really hated my mom for having everything she didnโ€™t have
a loving and doting husband
and all healthy children
What made us a target for my auntโ€™s abuse?

poetry: first grade

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

me in 1987 in first grade

in first grade, I learned to be ashamed and embarrassed of who I was,
and where I came from
maybe the nuns were ignorant of the damage they were doing
and since that time Iโ€™ve had identity issues
for years, i gave up my language and my heritage in order to fit in-
to have proximity to being an American
but all it did was fuck up my identity
and while I have forgiven the nuns for the damage done
I have a hard time finding compassion for myself
I have a hard time letting go the guilt
For the pain I caused my family
I have a hard time understanding I was just a kid
desperately trying to fit in, to belong, to be accepted
to conform of the standards of being American society fed me

Poesia: Maletera Del Carro

Escribi este poema en enero del 2022.

Iba en la maletera del carro
llena de las mentiras de mis padres
que toda estarรญa bien
y nos รญbamos hacia la alegrรญa
a un lugar misterioso y mรกgico

Iba en la maletera del carro
asustada y llorando lรกgrimas
mientras mi mami me abrazaba
me decรญaโ€cรกllate, pronto llegaremos a
nuestro destinoโ€

Iba en la maletera del carro
y casi me sentรญa sofocada
pero mi mami me susurraba
โ€œduรฉrmete, casi llegamosโ€

Iba en la maletera del carro
y cuando salimos
el sol no sonriรณ
y fue el primer dia
en nuestra nueva patria

Poesรญa: Navidad

Escribรญ este poema en Diciembre del 2021.

yo en 1987

La navidad se escucha con los parchis
cantando navidad, navidad
navidad se ve como el รกrbol lleno de muchos adornos
coleccionados hace mรกs de 30 aรฑos
el nacimiento cusqueรฑo con las estatuas
de la virgen, josรฉ y el bebe jesรบs cristo
que tienen mรกs de 33 aรฑos
navidad se saborea con un polla peruano sazonado
con especies รบnicas
con un chocolate y panettone siempre en la mesa
navidad se siente con la felicidad pasando tiempo
con tus seres mรกs queridos
que te llenan con amor y calor familiar
la navidad se huele en el perfume imari de Mami
La navidad siempre serรก una de las tradiciones
mรกs bonitas e amorosas en mi familia

Poetry: Resignation

From the ages of 18 to 23, I worked for a government agency as an interpreter. I was well-liked by many of my coworkers and my first supervisor was appreciative of me. I was very good at my job and even cross-trained in many other areas that didn’t “pertain to my job”. However, at that job, I was also bullied and discriminated against for being Latina. I was also slut-shamed by my second supervisor and coworkers the latter 2 years I was there. I don’t want to say I deserved being slut-shamed but I’ll just say that I trusted the wrong coworkers with my private life and they went on to gossip about me to everyone. It was also a very stressful environment because of the work I did and clients I had to interact with. My depression and anxiety went haywire. In 2003, I decided to enroll in my local community college and major in English. In 2004, I was trying to go to school full time, work full time, and deal with my child’s new autism diagnosis. I was breaking down mentally and something had to give so I quit this job. I was fucking done. And this poem was inspired by that moment. I thought I had processed this trauma until it came back up in therapy in the summer of 2021. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had suffered a deep racial trauma that impacted me and still triggered reactions in me. I was angry. There is actually way more to this story and one day I’ll share it when I’m ready.

So much anxiety and depression hidden behind that smile ๐Ÿ˜ญ

This was the hardest thing I did

but it had to be done

I couldnโ€™t stand the gossip

or the two faces of everyone

the way they pretended to be my friend

but the minute I turned my back to them

they talked like I was the biggest wench

so much envy and hate

I HAVE TO ESCAPE 

FROM THIS MISERABLE FATE!

so today I resigned

I didnโ€™t tell them why

all I know is that for the first time

in a really long time

I feel something like happy

so long to the only place I have known

for an almost five year term

for once I breathe a sigh of relief

I finally had the courage to leave

so long to the hypocrisy of this place

to let myself stay here for another day

would only be a fucking waste