Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: State of Modern Womanhood

I wrote this poem in December of 2021. I was kind of angry. Lol.

performing this poem at open mic in October of 2022

Let’s hashtag the fuck out of our imperfect perfect lives
smile for the camera but make it look candid
this is for instagram after all-
we want to present an image of authenticity
Authentic needs to look put together and balanced
there can be no cracks in our suburban realities
no one wants to see tears and frowns
let’s continue to act like modern clowns
except our lipsticks presents a false smile
that hides our misery inside and let’s add a witty caption
that spells out live,laugh, love
and hashtags about #momlife,#gratitude, and #bestlifeever
depression, sadness, and anger has no room in our modern world
where we pretend to be perfectly imperfect moms and wives
with these amazing and perfect lives
let’s continue the facade of authenticity
even as we burn inside and want to die
we are not just okay but we are fucking fabulous
so honey continue to smile for that selfie
even as the expectations of modern womanhood
continues to burn us all up

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poster Girl for Failure

this is so true….makes lemons out of lemonade

How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?

I used to think I was the poster girl for failure
I’m a failure at love, I’m a failure at life, I’m a failure at everything
but all of these are thoughts of a past version of me
the version of me who saw herself as a victim
the version of me who took comfort in her misery
in my middle age I changed that narrative
I no longer see myself as a failure
I see myself as a person who makes mistakes
who’s deeply flawed, who has caused pain
it’s doesn’t make me a loser or a disaster
It makes me a human who’s trying her best to live her life
and sometimes that doesn’t always look pretty
I now see failure as stepping stone,a learning curve
to continue to grow, to continue to evolve
to become better and healthier than I’ve been before

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: The Zeitgeist of COVID Times

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

me in March of 2020 when the Pandemic started

Toilet paper, hand sanitizer,
Masks, COVID tests

the judgy quarantined
Karens and Brads
or
the overwhelmed essential
workers

Solitary confinement
or
Endless work hours

Creative new hobbies
or
No time to think or sleep

Neverending restlessness
or
Neverending adrenaline rushes

Mental breakdowns for all
This was the Zeitgeist
of COVID times

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poesia: Miseria Toxica

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/03/poetry-tired-2/

Mis amigas son mi peor enemigas
Sacando a la luz todas mis inseguridades
y siento ansiedad que me trae insomnia
pensando si ellas tienen la razón
seré en realidad una mujer suela?
seré en realidad una madre negligente?
seré en realidad una estupida,
por querer superarme?
y me convenzo que nunca
seré suficiente para lo que se
espera de mi
y me siento deprimida
con esta realización
y me quedo dormida
con un corazón lleno
de miseria toxica

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Waiting for the Impossible to Happen

Aqui esta la version en Espanol de este poema:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=1929

I wait and wait for the impossible to happen
for me to fall in love again
even though I’ve sworn off romance forever
because of the catastrophic emotional earthquake
that takes place within me
everytime a lover stops loving me
but the romantic in me refuses to die
and won’t listen to logic
she tells me, “it would be truly tragic to deny
yourself another love story, you never know,
the next one could be your happy ending”

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The Work Blues

I’ve made taking selfies at work part of my routine at work
I bring style, beauty, and entertainment to my job-they’re lucky to have me

Do you enjoy your job?

It’s a moody Monday full of dread and adult angst
but to work I go even though I don’t want to
I’m rather stay home creating new worlds
that bleed from my mind
in my sweats and sans bra
but bills need to be paid
so I put on appropriate attire to face
my Monday to Friday hostage situation
put on my customer service voice I’ve perfected
and turn on my fake positivity
all because my passion doesn’t pay the bills yet
but it’s okay, i say to myself
because this hostage situation
is temporary

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Poesía: Posponer Nuestro Fin

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2023/01/09/poetry-silence-3/

me acuesto junto a ti en un silencio severo
Pospongo y pospongo
lo que tengo que decirte
y siento la culpa en mi estomago
y quiero sentir alivio de esto
pero como te confieso mi infidelidad
sin destruir tu alma
“te amo pero me acosté con alguien,
nunca fue mi intención herirte”
todo suena tan estupido
y la cobardía me consume
no quiero leer la devastación en tu cara
al confesarme
mejor esperare
quizás te mandaré un correo electrónic

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Poetry: soft again

I wrote this poem in March of 2022

me around the time I wrote this poem…

I want to be soft again and fall in love
without thinking
that feels like a special kind of freedom
to share the burdens with someone
to share the laughter with someone
to share a unique kind of love with someone
but my heart is locked under a fortress
and I refuse to let anyone in
because in all honesty I don’t think
I could stand the pain again
when another lover leave suddenly
and I’m left again with the shards of my heart
to put them back together and carry on

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Poesía: Lo Que Podría Haber Sido

Here is the English Version of this poem:

Poetry: A Note

el abre la guantera y sale una hoja de papel
es una nota de ella-el está nervioso en leerla
es un poema que ella escribió para el-
ella le dice que él es su amanecer
y le hace una declaración de amor
todo este tiempo, el pense que eran algo casual
el llora porque es demasiado tarde para que él le corresponda
Y piensa en lo que podría haber sido

Posted on by pattytacuri · 7 Comments

Poetry: The Writer’s Fight

I wrote this poem in February 2022.

me around the time I wrote this poem

To write is to fight
words that cuts like swords
How do I stop this torture?
of suppressing a petty light

Pen stabs paper with might
about past regrets and lost love wars
and memories best left ignored
of a dreadful and chaotic life

To write is to fight
Demons I want to hide from
But I can’t help but succumb
to my constant inner fight

Pen stabs paper with might
and I try to find closure
about past lovers
I write from love and spite

To write is to fight
Do I really need to say that?
Yes,it’s my trauma to unpack
and my words take flight

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Poetry: Third Party

Aqui esta la version en espanol de este poema:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/24/poesia-que-espera/

I can’t wait around for you to choose me
I’m losing sleeping with dread and anxiety
imagining you loving her
I think this needs to end soon before I lose it
I’m not made to be the “other”woman
I’m not meant to be a third party
in anyone’s love story

Posted on by pattytacuri · 4 Comments

Poetry: The Gift of Solitude

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

me in February of 2022

My solitude comforts me and completes me
this much tranquility is a gift
I thought being alone meant wearing a misery crown
Instead I found serenity and calm
I found a love I thought was impossible
self compassion and self love fill the void within
to care only for myself is a blessing
And I need to stay like this for a while
anything else feels too draining
being alone feels like the ultimate prize
in this beautiful thing called life