Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: dystopian clusterfuck

I wrote this poem in February of 2025.

to be honest

me and my family have immigration jokes for day on end
and some of my friends think that’s sick and awful
but its one of the only things
that helps me and my family keep our sanity
in Trump’s American is making fun of our misery and misfortune

it’s how we’ve survived generations of corrupt governments
and wannabe dictators
its how we’ve passed resilience and strength to future generations

sure, we may cry at first as the life we’ve worked hard for
starts falling apart and our plans for the future are shattered
because of a few megarich and corrupt maga idiots
who run our government
but right after we wipe our tears and break out in jokes
and laughter
especially now that what’s supposed to be the land of the free
gets more and more fascist
and we swim closer and closer to nazi waters
the only thing we can do is try to find a way to smile, to laugh,
to find a bit of joy no matter how fucked up in may seem
in this dystopian clusterfuck

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: criminal

I wrote this poem in February of 2025.

my face after I wrote this poem

rose gold cross ripped from her neck
handcuffs cutting into her smalls wrists
mami and papi can’t explain why
they’re nowhere to be found
she thought officers were supposed to be good people
but they hurl insults at her and call her a criminal
and at 10 she can hardly grasped
the severity of the situation
they tell her over and over again
“we’re taking you back to where you came from”
and it’s beyond her compression
because her birth certificate says Illinois
because America is the only home she’s ever known

Posted on by pattytacuri

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 don’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

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

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 parent’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

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

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

Posted on by pattytacuri

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 hadn’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 who’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 didn’t have a bilingual and bicultural identity

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

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 it’s hard to understand the inhumanity, the hateful rhetoric
Is his life worth less because of his ethnicity and immigration status?

Posted on by pattytacuri

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 dad’s intelligence or my sister’s beauty?
or maybe she really hated my mom for having everything she didn’t have
a loving and doting husband
and all healthy children
What made us a target for my aunt’s abuse?

Posted on by pattytacuri

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 I’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

Posted on by pattytacuri

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 estaría bien
y nos íbamos hacia la alegría
a un lugar misterioso y mágico

Iba en la maletera del carro
asustada y llorando lágrimas
mientras mi mami me abrazaba
me decía”cállate, pronto llegaremos a
nuestro destino”

Iba en la maletera del carro
y casi me sentía sofocada
pero mi mami me susurraba
“duérmete, casi llegamos”

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

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poesía: Navidad

Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2021.

yo en 1987

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