Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: August 2009

They should go out of their way

August 2009

In anticipation of the night
I was excited to see you
But then we met
And the look you gave me
said it all
without saying anything
at all
I had warned you
I had changed
But you refused to believe it
and held onto
an idealistic image of me
in your head
Worthless small talk ensued
Even though there was
nothing left to say
Your body language screamed:
“Get the fuck away from me”
But a small trickle of hope
cemented my feet to the ground
next to you
And then a sorry excuse
trickled from your lips
And you left me stranded
that night

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Poetry: Blocked

Blocked

Blocked from my phone
Blocked from my world
Blocked from being
The constant chaos
That torpedoes into my life
And fucks things up

If only I could
Block you from my mind
If only I could
Block you from my heart
If only I could
Block you from my dreams

Blocked from mentioning your name
My friends know better

If only I could
Block you from
My poetry and prose

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Poetry: Virus

Virus

Loving you feels like a virus
I’ll never recover from
I lie awake at night
and thoughts of you infect me
I keep saying I want to be cured
of your love disease
that travels from my body
and into my mind
I’ve tried to find the cure
in someone else
But for some reason
your virus is resistant
It won’t go away
no matter what I do
I try hard to stay away
but it’s no use
The virus that is your love
is incurable
Virus

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poetry: breaking the vow

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

ready to break this vow

this time I’ll give myself permission
to let my body explore pleasure
with someone else
telling myself,
“This time I’m keeping it casual,
it’s nothing serious, it’s not a big deal”
I’m just ready to once again
share my sexual magic
write erotic poems about a human
and not my vibrator
it’s time to break my vow of celibacy
and let someone in on my sexual energy

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poetry: too much time

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

I choose to change the narrative

I wasted too much time in comparing myself to other women
and blaming them when my exes chose them
and allowed my jealousy and rage to speak for me
Never understanding how they were all just innocent bystanders
in my complicated and chaotic love stories
I’m sorry, I didn’t know any better
and I wasn’t mature enough to take accountability
and it was easier to use y’all as scapegoats
when I lost war after  war of love-
It was easier to say you won
because I wasn’t educated and white like you
In reality, I should’ve used my ammunition
only towards my exes
It was never y’alls fight to be a part of
even if some of them used y’all as an excuse
for their departure
I’m so sorry, anna, david’s ex-wife,
my ex metamours,
maybe my message will come to you in a dream
or you’ll see this poem in my blog one day
and be able to forgive me

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poetry: ivory tower problems

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

a collage of me in my kroger garb

I’m starting to radically accept someone like me
will always be judged differently from my peers
it doesn’t matter how many degrees I have-
how much I code switch to fit in-
it will never be enough to be truly accepted
so I’ll smile and nod while they complain
about ivory tower problems
while I roll my eyes inside my mind-
man, I really wish I had your problems Susan
but I got to go to my second job now

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poetry: purgatory

I wrote this poem in September of 2023.

ai image of purgatory

in purgatory, I live
waiting for the finality of my longest chapter of love
to end
In purgatory, residual anger and resentment
Invades me-
and I turn into an emotional time bomb
Waiting to explode
In purgatory, I wait for my sentencing,
praying the judge sees things my way
and honors what is best for broken family

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Poetry: Thank You

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

me in May of 2022 coming out of a major depressive episode

To the one who stay to love me
Thank you, thank you, thank you
I know I’m not always easy to deal with
I know my brand of crazy doesn’t always
bring out the best of me
I know that my anger makes me a monster sometimes
But you’ve stayed and dealt with it the best way you could
Either calling me out when I’m dramatic
or expressing your concern when I’m salty or impulsive
The sense of community you’ve given me
feels like my life’s remedy
You’ve never asked me to change
and really love and accept me

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Poetry: Reality and Fantasy

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

yo en mayo del 2022

Lost between fantasy and reality I stay
Reality feels boring and monotonous
and to constantly dream is free
I dream of traveling, of success
of stability within
and it’s nice to stay lost in the fantasy
of what I want my life to be
But I can’t and must return to my reality
of always working, of always hustling
because my dreams won’t come true
unless I work to make them happen

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Poetry: Capitalism

Happy International Workers Day! I wrote this poem a few years ago reflecting on what achieving my American dream looked like at the time.

me around the time I wrote this poem

I am a slave to the severe master
of capitalism and greed

Risking my mental and physical health
to get closer to the haves

New car, new therapist–
Am I closer to the American dream yet?

Capitalism and greed has become my religion
The curse of consumerism some say
The curse of wanting better for me I say

Greed and capitalism–
is the American way
for my American Dream

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Poetry: Seen and Heard

I wrote this in January of 2022.

one of the ways I make myself seen and heard is through selfies….lol

everyone wants to be seen and heard
it doesn’t matter who you are
some of us show it through passive aggressive posts
on social media hoping they trigger a response
some of us show it with our fist by punching
holes in walls to announce our “masculinity”
some of us are quiet and whisper
“Don’t forget, I’m here too”
some of us are loud AF and shout
“I own this fucking space”
everyone wants to be seen and heard
it’s part of the human condition

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Poetry: Distorted Reality

I wrote this in January of 2022.

it’s so much damn work

My emotions cloud and distort my reality
anger brings out passive aggressive social media post
sadness tells me I’m worthless
joy makes everything seem magical
numbness makes me want to end it all
hyper-sexuality makes me want to fuck almost everyone

My emotions cloud and distort my reality
I get paranoid, mad, sad, happy, and horny all in one day
My escapes used to be fucking and drinking
But I got older and wiser
And now I run and I write

My emotions cloud and distort my reality
And I learned to regulate and control them
I observe, I listen without judgment
and I honor my emotions

My emotions cloud and distort my reality
but now only for a short time
And I’m in control again
I’m no longer a mess of destruction and chaos

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Poetry: Love me out LOUD

I wrote this in December of 2021.

me in December of 2021

I’m not meant to be loved behind closed doors
or only at night or kept as your little secret
I’m not meant to be the mistress, the side chick
or your on call whore
I’m not meant to be devoured at your convenience in 2 hour increments
I’m meant to be taken out in public in the daytime
and introduced to your family and friends
I’m meant to be part of your relationship status, your girlfriend,
your partner in crime
I’m meant to be paraded and exhibited everywhere
but most of all I’m meant to be loved out loud

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Poetry: The Modern Southern Woman

I wrote this in 2016.

me in 2016 when I wrote this poem

Faulkner wrote about her ancestors
She stood like a pillar of strength between her mother and daughter
She stood strong as both of them held her arms that were their life jackets
as they drowned in endless sorrows
Tears silently fell from her face as her father laid in his closed home
And the reverend went on about him being in a better place
And her strength did not falter,
She let her loved ones hold on tight while she tried to blink away tears ,
She swallowed her pain and absorbed the pain from those around her
She wasn’t just strong for her mother and daughter,
but she was a goddess of strength among the mere mortals
around her that wept