I’m really just here.

An exhausted state of being
overwhelmed by mistakes
that only exist
by those that created them
trying to find
a fairness of life
in which doesn’t exist
does it?

There are ecosystems
food chains
of smaller things
existing to feed
the larger things
I often wonder
does a bug exist
to feed a racoon
or to scatter the pollen of plant
or has the racoon adapted
to eat it
or does it exist for it
and did the flower appear first
or after
the rest of us
vegetation had to be the first
right?

Is there a fairness
in being eaten
a logical reason
that another must survive
at that of your own life
and with that thought
brings me to us
to the human of animals
we’re always creating rules
setting up boundaries
trying to correct that of the dead
but they’re dead
so why must I right them
accept their wrongness
and do different
or shall I quiver
and beg for others forgiveness
for people I never would have liked
people that disturb me
people that confuse me?

I’m really just here
trying to understand
trying not to harm
trying to treat
you
myself
and everyone else
in correlation to their actions
rather than their appearance
because what others do
doesn’t have to be me
nor does it have to be you.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

That parasitic thing.

I don’t believe if I die tomorrow
I’ll go somewhere else
this person I am
will be no longer
unable to think
unable to be
just gone.

Let’s say there is a soul
and I believe you
even if I don’t
I’ll say I do
and even then
I’d still believe
I will go nowhere.

That parasitic thing
it’ll detach from my body
separating to it’s place
under evaluation
was it good
was it bad
was it ambivalent?

It doesn’t matter
because I’m dead
and I don’t have to
over think it
over feel it
over live it
over analyze it
igniting the stress in my brain.

The brain; is that taken too
on the sly
for logistics
to see what it unravels
or is that parasite
judged on its own
are my actions its actions
or my thoughts
were they theirs
rather than my own?

In death
I won’t have to over think it
so for now I’ll let it rest
igniting the worry
onto something else.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

It never was on you was it?

There’s this focus
to speak up for what cannot
to stand up and scream
let it be born
then it is.

Older it grows
that’s what living things do
they grow
they change
they age
and their memories fester
taking on
gathering pieces
in which shatters
piercing glass within others.

Those that once screamed
let it be born
are those that now scream
that is a monster
that thing
that does not do right
that thing that speaks differently
that thing that is not
that thing
God will bring it to justice

because it never was on you
was it?

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Thinking is painful.

Thinking is painful
my head is weighted
with all the worries
and my body is feeling it
the pain of understanding
the pain of obligations
the pain of the human condition.

I think in webs of frustration
navigating through thoughts
stopping
it isn’t blank
although the thought is worthless
because it doesn’t pay the bills
the words don’t change the world
the thoughts can’t defund the wealthy
I am just here.

If I was stranded on an island
I’d starve
aware of the ability
to catch a fish
to filter water
to survive
yet stranded I’d be.

I’ve been trained
to sleep upon a bed
to shop the grocery store
to eat fruits already picked
to run water out of a faucet.

I’d lay down in the sand
fighting through the withdrawal
of this modern convenience
that strips me of sanity
of patience
of the ability of living
within it all
and I’d die
because I never learned what real is.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

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