A rock.

To exist in matter
but be nothing in that of thought
a rock can be held
can be placed
cannot walk
cannot think
cannot grow
although it isn’t nothing
I can feel it
I can see it
and it is nothing
in that it is not living
it is an object
that I can think of
that can be withered by a storm
that can be changed
although it is nothing
it cannot die
it cannot grow
yet I could trip upon it
breaking my neck
meeting my demise
so is it something?

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

I’ m not really sure where my mind was going with this poem maybe you can make sense of it? Sometimes I just write when frustrated and just sort of just let the words clutter the space.

(I am a participant in the Amazon Associates Program and any purchases made through affiliate links I may earn a commission on at no additional cost to you.)
I used the Surface Go 2 like the one shown above to make my poetry book Can We Sleep Now?

I don’t want to be in debt to this.

I don’t want to be in debt to this
to a thought
to a territorial institution
to an idea of Country
to an idea of people.

I must work
to pay out
for water
for food
for electricity
for heat
for shelter
upon land
that once was finder keepers
then claim for the slaughter
now we think we have it right
paying for parcels of red.

We have small homes
like my own
and then we have those that are large
paying in as they need
taking claim to space
their minds ruin us
why wouldn’t it ruin another planet
another place
if they build it
and live upon it
it’ll die
as this one will
used up
abused it is
because they take
and they say their sayings
“be happy with what you have”
isn’t that easy
when you have a home chef
with no debate
about what you can afford for dinner?
Then there’s the rest of us.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

This human thing is killing me.

I just feel
like to much is in my head
and I can’t cry it all out
and I don’t feel like
being this human thing that I am
I feel it’s disgusting
a monstrous condition to be.

I’m always thinking
of how to be polite
of how to be safe
of how not to fuck up
and I’m always failing
saying words
that aren’t proper
aren’t helpful
never making enough money
to buy the food a family needs
always losing time
never enough to make it all happen
always hurting within the brain.

This human thing
is killing me
this overly politeness
yet nobody has it
and yet they mind you
of your cruelty
speaking up
honking as you past
no sidewalk
it doesn’t matter
they’re not kind
not then.

It could be the weakness in me
I feel shame
I feel the want to help
although the ability
is not in me
because I feel sickened
by this human thing that I am
we all must right?
Otherwise we wouldn’t classify
separate ourselves
although how can you
truly separate yourself
from an entire species
human is human
any color
any size
it is human
and it is fret
and it is spiteful
and it is difficult to be this.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Is this reality?

Is this reality
or is this
the fictionalized realm
that we’ve projected in our deaths?

A collective unit
lives playing on screens
and the thoughts we think
they’re that of everything
that’s why I worry
that’s why we go insane
because that is sanity
realizing reality
isn’t this.

I spent every thought
trying to understand everything
trying to understand the human condition
trying to accept social cues
trying to notices feelings of others
and being conflicted
living this reality
and I wonder if this is really the truth
are people really intelligent animals
or is that just what we think?

Reality is it what is happening
or is what happening the past?

If you believe in quantum entanglement
there is no reality
there are just moments intertwine
easily erased
skimmed over
forgotten
recreated.

If time isn’t one direction
then reality isn’t reality.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

I can’t be this environment.

I can’t
be this environment
I can’t
take off my skin
and let the soul be free
to meet its place
above in paradise
or below in an eternity of torture
I can’t be
just another name
to be praised
I’m not
I’ve never been
the kindness person
the prettiest person
the perfect person
I’m not
I haven’t been
and I won’t be
I’m not troubled by that thought
just grounded by debt
and the need to pay it
buried within my art
knowing it isn’t
and my words
they’re just not quite
I’m just this
a person
with a brain filled of words
trying to form a unique thought
and slipping within a fear
that I cannot
I try
creating something new
right now
I can’t
I try
I can’t be this environment
and yet I am
it’s poisoning
all the policies
just let us all be nice
polite kind
and even that feels worthless
because whom determines
kindness?
Not me
I know that
I am not
a voice of interest
I am just a person
lost within it all.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Human

Human
we try to define it
try to separate it
try to categorize it
try to define it.

Human is human
if it breathes
if it thinks
anatomically it is human.

We separate
classify it
disassociate aspects
as if this human
is better than that human
any human that breathes
any human alive
is using resources
is conducting mistakes
is pushing something someone else
into the dirt.

It’s all human
it’s all terrible
incredible
conflicted
because that is human.

Hating any
to that of color
to that of size
to that of Country
is hating itself
because it’s all human
me
you
they
them
it is
we are all human.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

I can’t keep awake.

I can’t keep awake
and when I am
I can’t keep my mind in place
it runs fast
and it stops my ears from listening
because the thoughts it thinks
are quick
and rarely stopping.

When I’m asleep
it stays busy
creating dreams
playing beneath my eyelids
and I can’t stay wake
can’t keep myself
thinking with purpose
rather my brain
changes the thought
and writes out the rest.

My body is exhausted
as it sleeps
my brain continues to creep
finding work
finding dreams to play
it can’t quit
it doesn’t rest
always thinking
till the very last.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

There isn’t my best.

There isn’t my best
there is just a portion that tries
a part that keeps doing things
keeps waking in the morning
keeps forcing me to sleep
keeps forcing me to eat
there isn’t my best
just a portion that tries.

A portion that combines words
hit up against the other portion
that hates structure
that hates authority
that hates any
that tells me how
and the part that listens
stumbling on the grammar
the other part
that tells me not to fix it
that tells me
the authority is shit
their rules are worthless now.

There isn’t my best
there are only parts of me
fighting
telling me to be nice
to be kind
to speak politely
and the other part
that asks
who decides what is nice
how can you be right
when there are voices
in every direction
how can you be your best
when opinions aren’t based within facts?

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

My brain is drowning.

My brain is drowning
within this age of knowledge
the information is pulling it
weighting it down
it cannot come up
it’s forgetting the automatic tasks
breathe it tells the lungs
it had forgotten.

Opinions are spitting about
and the facts can’t counter enough
blocking a few particles
as the others enter
my brain is drowning
within all the saliva
flinging from their mouths
I can’t keep up
that is an opinion
not fact
I can’t justify
right and wrong
based off a feeling.

Overwhelmed
my brain drowns
it can’t quit
hands pulling at it
prodding it
responsibilities
keep it awake
keep it thinking
keep it fearing
pulling it out of the water
for the only bits that matter
are the words
of the ones I love.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina