Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: under

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

me with one of my voices of reason

I feel left out by my friends and I cry and whine
“they hate me, I’m not good enough for them”
my voice of reason tells me
“it will be okay, you don’t need them”
it’s my sister

I break down in the middle of the sidewalk
and cry and scream
“I’m unworthy of love, I’ll be alone forever”
my voice of reason tells,
“that’s not true, you just need to focus on you boo”
It’s my son

my voice of reason has comforted me and loved me unconditionally
my voice of reason keeps me from going under

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: epidemic

I wrote this poem in September of 2024.

me right after I wrote this poem

this time it hits too close to home
this time it feels like a matter of when
in America my children learn run, duck, and cover
before learning to spell the word “Gun”
but this is the deck of cards dealt to all of parents
living in America
safety in schools is an illusion long gone
since the days of Columbine
but with each massacre we all break a little more
and our anxiety skyrockets even more
the closer this epidemic gets to us
this time I’ll hug my teenager as tightly as possible
when he gets home, even as he rolls his eyes at me
and says, “ew”this time I allow my fury and rage
at this continued senseless violence to pour out of me
and on paper
collective and personal grief covers me
accepting once again, no matter what I do
or how hard I try or how much I love my child
I can’t shelter him, I can’t protect him
from the epidemic of violence in this country

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: summer storms

I wrote this poem in August of 2024.

always a triunfadora

the storms this summer have been intense and scary
Some days I had to run for cover, other days I ended up
saturated in self hate
the storms this summer tried desperately to tear me apart
ruin my reputation
everyone watched me waiting for me to turn into
a trainwreck
but instead I do what I always do
rise out of the ashes most triumphantly

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: faro

I wrote this poem in August of 2024.

scene from Autumn Sonata

In Faro, magic took place
In Faro, Liv lost her mind
trying to conform
to Ingmar’s vision
of serenity and love

In Faro, Liv and Ingmar’s
story of love started with
silences, longing glances
and art made on the beach
with Godly cinematography

In Faro, Liv felt constricted,
restrained and isolated
and had Ingmar’s love child

In Faro, Liv tried for a year
to salvage a relationship
that was far beyond repairable

and in Faro, Liv put up
her white flag and decided
she couldn’t waste any more
of her life on something
that was never going to work

so she took her daughter
and left
the man, the life she thought
was going to be her forever

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: how do you do it?

Back in 2023

people wonder how I do it all
two jobs, three kids, the stream of poetry
and still finding time for friends
and honestly sometimes i don’t know
perhaps its because i’m crazy
and have the determination to live
to live the fullest life I have
even within the limits I have
maybe I don’t to waste a single minute
of regret wishing I could have done that
or this like I used to and now just do
I’m no longer a woman of mere words
I’m a woman of actions

8/28/23

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: marionettes

I wrote this poem in August of 2024.

AI Generated Liz Taylor

Mae West and Liz Taylor knew how to take up space in a man’s world
and that was the problem with them
it intimidated the fuck out of the men who worked with them,
who loved them
so they were ostracized, made to be cautionary tales
the minute they got out of line
so much beauty partnered with intelligence
made them a target in a patriarchal society
that like their women cute and mute
like the marionettes they can pull strings on

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: experiment

What curse to be a lovergirl 😭

The experiment of life leaves me breathless with rage
Why keep trying love on over and over again
when it continually abandons me
It’s like a balloon
I’m filled up with joy and happiness
and then there’s life’s pin of reality
makes my balloon burst
and I’m reduced to nothingness until I find rage
to fuel me to move forward
it’s exhausting, it’s madness

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: day of the dead

I wrote this poem in August of 2024.

this day of the dead, I’ll pay reverence to my female ancestors
i’ll build a shrine with their pictures and letters to honor them
it’s the least I can do do the generational gifts passed down to me
this day of the dead, I’ll pay reverence to my female ancestor
write down their stories and later on share them
remember that doing this heals something in me,
something in them

Posted on by pattytacuri

Finding Community in Athens

worpress prompt: What do you love about where you live?

me at open mic a few weeks ago

when I finally took myself seriously as a poet and writer, I was 40
before that I thought I was some cute and crazy girl
who used poetry and stories to express herself on paper
whatever she couldn’t burden loved ones with
but now at 40, between the July heat and mental health diagnosis
I had a breakdown
and I used my creativity to get through it
so I started blogging and used my poetry as content
I had no idea anyone would like it, resonate with it
and subscribe to it
and after a year, I went back to open mic
and keep going and bared my most vulnerable
and intimate thoughts
this lead to me finding community with the local
poets of Athens
and it’s what I had always wanted but was always
too scared, too insecure to seek out
and also too busy with everything else in my life
but one day I got tired finally embraced the fire
of my creativity
and decided to share the artist in me with the world
once I did that, I created an online community
and eventually found a community of writers and poets
who accept me, encourage me, and inspire me

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: a year from now

I wrote this poem in August of 2024.

I’m the magician

a year from now things will be radically different
I will not be stewing in my misery and making poetry out of it
instead I’ll be more empowered, more creative than ever
instead I’ll be wiser and stronger understanding
the rollercoaster of the storms of 2024 was needed
to inspire another cathartis, another catalyst for change
the universe had to humble me for a bit
to remind me of what’s really important
to assess how I’ve been living my life
and whether or not the many hours were worth killing myself over
a year from now this will be radically different
I’ll have a deeper knowledge, understanding and clarity
about what’s in alignment with me
life will be more balanced, more full of joy
and with an abundance of everything that inspires me
everything that brings purpose to my life

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Labyrinth

the labyrinth of love made me lose who I was for a while
I used to base my sense of self on who loved me or who didn’t-
and thought I need a lover to feel whole
after every breakup, I had a breakdown
and it felt like an eternal labyrinth of despair
I couldn’t find my way out of
it was like the most complicated of Borges stories
caught in a complex maze of misunderstanding and intricacies
of my own mind
and for a while it felt like I’d never get out-
until faith shone a light on me
and it drove me out of the labyrinth of despair
and into a clear path of compassion and self love

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: bothered

I wrote this poem in August of 2024.

trying to not be bothered

when I’m bothered, when I’m embarrassed, when my inner critic
starts knocking on my mind’s door
the best thing I can do is reapply my lipstick, write some angry señora poetry
Remember the goddess that I am, and take my power back
I’m not some stupid and weak little bitch some people perceive me to be
(that narrative ended at age 40)
now, I take the disrespect and insults with grace
keep my composure, pretend I’m unbothered
even as I fume inside
I still keep on going
I won’t make a big fuss or call anyone out
that story usually ends with me being gaslit and called crazy
instead I adhere to the age old adage “aqui no paso nada”
Really being the opposite which is everything
my anger, rage, grief being the fuel to become better
to prove to myself and others
I’m not the mentally unstable bitch society perceives me to be

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: when

I wrote this poem in August of 2024.

trying find balance among the chaos

lately life has been a most unfortunate chain of events
and my universe is upside down
can’t tell which way is up, which way is down
I just want relief from this elephant of pressure
that sits on my chest
I know that it will get better
I know a sudden rush of clarity will come after this
but the not knowing when is killing me