Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Uncaring

I wrote this poem in 2004 about my husband, then boyfriend. I guess I was mad about his lack of affection. As you can see, this is a pattern for me. I bottle my emotions up until one day I explode.

If you don’t want any of this 

You should just leave 

I can’t take anymore 

Of your uncaring words

I don’t want to keep you from 

Having your fun

So just go away 

You only hurt me if you stay

Go back to the way you used to be

Alone, happy, and free

And take your precious independence

You prefer  it to our relationship nonsense

So stop acting like you care

To us, it wouldn’t be fair

Adieu, adios, and goodbye

To our enormous love lie

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Poetry: Frigid

I wrote this in 2004 about my husband who I thought was being distant at the time. As you can guess, I don’t deal with rejection well at all and this is one example of many of how my mind deals with it.

Your frigid ways turn me into nothing

I don’t ask for much 

but to you I ask for the world

I try so hard to make something 

Out of the nothing 

That has become us…

But all of it is meaningless to you

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Poetry: Poor and Destitute

I wrote this in 2004 inspired by a rough family situation I was going through at the time. I needed to process what was happening in some way because I couldn’t confront the person. And well, I wrote this narrative poem.

Poor and destitute

in front of me she stood

asking for shelter and food

with tears streaming down her cheek

she kept on repeating

“let me stay with you tonight,

I promise, one day I’ll make things right”

I didn’t know what to do

for a while I just stood

trying to decide

if what I was about to do was right

so with pain in my heart

I had to say

“please go away”

she tried to resist

by giving me a guilt trip

and I  told her once again

“please go away”

she still wouldn’t listen 

and made me listen to her reasons

this time I lost control 

and yelled at her to

“PLEASE GO AWAY

IF YOU DON’T WANT ME 

TO GO CRAZY”

this time she listened to me

maybe she does care for me

it hurt to turn her away

but I couldn’t be swayed

to feel sorry for her

and allow her

to ruin my world

so in the end

this was the dreadful when

I would have to decide 

between saving her or me 

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Poetry: Oil and Greed

I wrote this poem in 2004 about the War on Terror. I had quite a few friends in the military do tours in Afghanistan and Iraq. My son’s bio dad did 3 tours himself. It affected him greatly like it did other veterans I know.

Nothing is said. 

Only tears are shed.

Over broken hearts

   and lost dreams

   and the disillusionment

    of it all.

We once had faith

    that they would be okay,

   and not face

such a deadly fate. 

We once had much hope

  that our loved ones,

   would one day come back to us,

We never once dreamed 

   that it would destroy ,

  the most sacred thing;

  the innocence of our 

  children

How does one explain to them,

  that their parents died in 

   a war about oil and greed.

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Poesia: Solo y Agotado

Escribí este poema narrativo en 2002. Temas que tienen que ver con inmigración están cerca de mi corazón porque soy inmigrante. Inmigrantes indocumentados son explotados y muchas son invisibles en la sociedad.

Solo y agotado

El se sentó

En el  banco viejo

Esperando por su bus

Para irse a su case

Con el poco dinero

Ganado ese mismo dia

Pero el no sabia 

Que unos malvivientes 

Le estaban siguiendo sus pasos

Que tenían otro plan para ese día.  

Y sin darse cuenta 

Lo acuchillaron de atrás

Y el quedo botado

 Sangrando de sus graves heridas 

Al siguiente dia 

La gente diría 

Que su muerte no importaría

Fue lo mejor que podía pasar

Un mojado menos

De qué preocuparnos

Pobre señor,

Hasta este dia

Su familia no sabe que paso

Pobre señor

Todo por ser hispano and indocumentado 

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Poetry:Childhood Lies

I wrote this in 2003 reflecting on the immigration of me and my family. The first six year we were in the United States was a nightmare. I’m not sure how much I will share of my immigration story because of all the trauma involved.

Cuzco, Peru -Christmas of “85, I’m the one in the pigtails

I was five at the time
when my parents lied
they said it was going to be great
our brand new fate
we were going away
so we could be safe
we weren’t exactly prepared for
the horrors we would endure
the hardships and struggles
the wonder of it all
why did they persuade us
in them we lost our trust
now we’ll never again believe
what they want us to see

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Poetry: So Many Things

I wrote this in March of 2004 when I was feeling nostalgic about Lucas.

So many things left unsaid 

the day you decided to get away

So much left undone 

Because I was no longer fun

So many tears I had cried 

Asking myself a thousand whys?

Why did you leave?

I thought we were a perfect fit.

What was wrong with us?

That made you leave in a rush

Why did you break my heart?

by pulling us apart

And why didn’t you love me so?

It’s excruciating to let you go

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: Our Spot

I wrote this in February of 2004 when I was feeling nostalgic about Lucas.

I sit here at what once was our “spot”

and contemplate our last conversation

And I think over and over again how that last phrase got to 

“Me and my wife had a long talk-and we decided to work things out”

I know I should have been happy but I was sad

I know I should’ve smiled but instead I cried

Of course I hid this very well from you

And the few words I could muster up was

“Well that’s good, I’m happy for you”

And I wonder why when I should’ve been happy for you, my friend

But I was sad for me

I sit down and wonder why

I always end up with the same lost guy

Who doesn’t know what he wants and hurts me tons

Who uses me just as an escape 

to get away from his mate

Who never wants to tell me I love you

and thinks of me as anything but the one

who never cares after our tragic love affair fails

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Poesia: Dulce Realidad

Escribi este poema pensando como seria si me encontraba con Lucas de nuevo.

Tantas veces que yo soné

con volverte a ver

Y ahora que estás aquí

ya no sé qué decir

ni cómo actuar

no se la diferencia

si esto es una fantasía

o una dulce realidad

Lo único que se

es que esta vez

No voy a soltar

esta milagrosa oportunidad

de volverte a conocer

Y amarte otra vez

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Last Week

I wrote this in February of 2004 after my car accident after I was feeling lost and deep sense of despair and worthlessness. It was a trauma that would affect me for many years to come. I’ll tell the story of the accident one day when I’m ready to.

Last week I was where I needed to be

Today I am lost again with no sense of who I am

Or where I want to go

They tell me I’m a mother, daughter, coworker, 

Student, sister, and girlfriend

But I don’t seem be right fit into any of those roles

So can somebody instruct me

on how to get to where I once was 

Or more importantly on how to be happy just to be me

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Poetry: Lost

I wrote this shortly in February of 2004 shortly after my car accident. I was feeling so much depression and anxiety because of it.

I feel so lost

without sense of direction

So many feelings of frustration

over my life’s woes

Feelings of rejection

by the ones who once loved me

Feelings of anger

for never doing anything right

Where can I find the shining light

that I desperately seek?

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Poesia: El Pasado

Escribi este poema en Marzo de 2003 cuando estuve visitando Hawaii y pensaba en mi pasado.

A veces es asi

Estoy en el mismo lugar

donde era una adolecente inmadura,

Impulsiva, e insegura

pero ahora soy otra

Una que piensa antes de arriesgar

una que mirar antes de pisar

Una que trata de olvidar

Antes de contemplar todo 

lo que no fue de su vida

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: Dear Son

I wrote this poem in January of 2004 when I was frustrated with Matt and blamed him for my life going awry. Looking back, it was misplaced blame on a situation that only I had control over. At the time, it was much easier to blame Matt rather than take a look at myself and how I was responsible for the mess I made of my life.

Dear son

How do I stop

from feeling all of this resentment and anger

at the deadbeat who calls himself your dad?

Dear son

Will I ever feel better

about our almost dead-end situation

your dad has put us in?

Dear son

Will you ever forgive me

for not having everything

someone as wonderful as you should have?

Dear son

Can you show me where to

find a glimmer of hope

and that without him

 both of us will be alright?

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Poetry: False Fairy Tale

So I wrote this poem in January of 2004 when I was dating my husband and maybe I was foreshadowing my future with him (sort of-haha). I think that maybe I was paranoid he had someone else at the time because he was such a private person. Reflecting on this now is kind of strange because I was the one that ended up with the indiscretions. I was 22 when I wrote this and I have I think that this is a good example of “splitting” meaning that I went to black and white thinking about him.

FALSE FAIRY TALE

Everyone believes that you and I 

 are the real deal

That we are perfect

  and don’t have issues

Little do they know

  that you treat me with no worth

That to you

  I am not your only girl

That I close my eyes and ears

  and  deny to myself the fact

That your indiscretions are real

  that  you just used me as a tool

To have everyone fooled

  That you have the perfect wife

And you are the perfect husband 

  but  I am too tired of this

False fairy tale

  I have to get out of this lie

Before I lose what’s important

  for  the sake of your arrogance

So tonight I leave our once “happy” home

  so  I won’t lose 

All that’s left of me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Puppet

I wrote this in January of 2004 when things were good with my husband but I was already having lots of anxiety about our relationship.

Why couldn’t he see 

that him and I were meant to be?

Why couldn’t he say

that I was more than part 

of his wild phase?

Why couldn’t I be all he wanted

instead of sending my heart 

to its deathbed?

I will never love again!

Why couldn’t I see right through him-

Instead I let him pull me like a puppet

on a string

Why couldn’t he see that me and him

would make sense as a we?