A space in which the world is not.

Your stuck in the sticky trap of personal time
saving a few hours for yourself
and slipping within exhaustion.
Marriage is giving yourself
and breaking away from that part
the part in which defines an individual.
Time is fading
exhaustion it overwhelms
and as your lover
I myself forget to take time
to hold you
to tell you I love you.
Simple words to speak
and when I speak them
I choose times in which
they’re not always spoken for free
because I use them during arguments
which is unfair to you.
I’ll try to pay better attention
to your pain
to your personal space
to your feelings
and when you say
I don’t want to talk about it
I should respect that
rather than fall within patterns
because I fear it means
you rather not hear my thoughts.
I know the truth
that you want a space
in which the world is not
and I’ll try better
to answer that prayer.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

The fruit is deadly.

Fruits are to be taken
better hope not to be mistaken
a fruit is chewable and sweet
swiftly taken and swallowed as a treat
as long as the tree permits
another to take several hits
and if the tree is to determine
the taker as a vermin
the fruit sweet and loving
turns nasty in wording
as it writes its truth within your blood
as it curdles and twists out in a flood
leaving a letter
to be found rather
someone is around to see
or not besides the tree.
the letter becomes you
for others to see as their clue
the fruit is deadly
if the tree isn’t ready.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Fresh is a way to take.

Language was created
words defined
for us to connect
to share
and understand.

Each word has been spoken
and new editions are rare
for the writers of today
are reading the words of yesterday
and trying to switch them
put that word on the right
this word on the left
throw the words together to make a scene
to set a new tone.

Reshifting
rearranging
renewing
that’s what we do
trying to find that new
new character
new twist
and the same is hard to resist
twisting hoping to be noticed
swiftly we write words
consciously and unconsciously
to mimic that of those we’ve idolized
that we see as a historic figure
to look upon
our pens are coated by their slime
gutting the binds
eating their paper
as if those books are salvation.

What if we burned it all?
What if we destroyed it all?
What if we cleared the slate
and started fresh
and began to write for the enjoyment
rather than the hope of more?

In that thought
I stopped thriving for great
for excellent
for proper
for known
and then the stopper
cleared and unclogged
the words released
and I began to write
without worrying if it was good
because the past is dead
and the new faces here
are hard to please.

The past kept all down
keeps us all down
deep within a bitter sadness
keeps the dirt in short supply
of worldly resources
due to material goods.

Fresh is a way to take
to release our inner words
words that push through
without proper grammar
and marks
rather than stopped
by what the dead has created
a system of languages
that are entirely make believe.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina


A building inside a building.

There is a building inside a building
in one building there is you
in another building there is me
the measure of seconds that leads to a life
is determined by the tadpoles that swim
and maybe if they’re tired
or they arrive late
whatever the case
there are infinite buildings inside buildings
in which there is only one of you
and one of me.

For there to be thousands of us all
roaming about dimensions
that would have to mean
that each person is predestined
and that’s not the case
life happens upon fertilization
and if another swimmer slips in
swiftly to the egg
you may not be you at all.

If there are an infinite number of buildings
you may only exist in one
and in this one building your standing within
slipping within the infinite possibilities
that partake each person
rippling down from centuries of time.

You may never existed at all
standing here in this one building
and maybe neither would I
and if you slipped in elsewhere
maybe there is no you to find
no me
someone else entirely standing
within an entirely different building
in that same location
in a rift
between here and there.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

To prevent drowning.

To prevent drowning
one becomes submerged in another
as their air is no longer their own
they become encased inside
as if the others body is a tomb
and in centuries
what once was two
will be split apart
and chiseled
after their deaths.

As the ground above
continues to sink
opening it’s mouth
to feed upon their compost
before it becomes a shelter
to the bones left.

The tentacles
reach higher
tickling that above
causing a stomach upset
as it spits out the nutrients
and feeds it back to those
it has taken from
in which it’s given to
in which a cycle
makes it impossible
to claim what came first
the inhabitants taking from the soil
or the soil feeding upon
the tiniest of life.
Was the soil itself
always filled of
the tiniest particles of life?

Often I draw to give my brain a break, so I can let go and not overthink. It’s a way to take a break away from drawing something that must look a specific way. It stresses me out and I often fill of self doubt as if my skill will always be lacking and in those cases I take a break and let my mind run free with no picture in my mind. I enjoy those type of drawings because I like to create work left up to interpretation as well. I am rather intrigued by the idea that each set of eyes that come upon a piece could see something entirely different. Each poem I write in reaction is only meant to allow my mind to wander further and it doesn’t always have a bigger meaning behind it nor does it always makes sense. Although the same as the image the poem is open to interpretation.
Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

We must laugh.

We must laugh
to feed the monster
if we stopped
the monster couldn’t grow.

Hovering above our words
hovering above our laughter
it swallows our insults
churning in the pit of its gut
and shitting out
upon the rest.

If we stopped
the monster couldn’t grow.
If we didn’t laugh at the wrong jokes
the monster would shrivel up
and have to be watered
until it sprouted up
turning on itself
because a monster
is only as strong as what it eats
and the truest of monsters
thrive to be the strongest
and if we didn’t laugh
the monster
would find others to feed upon.

The truest of monsters
have a vile spit
to sputter upon
the insulters and the insulted
that makes it believe it is of pure innocence
although its snide
and its need for justice
has turned it the most dangerous.


Tonight I drew an image to inspire thoughts and the above poem is what came out as I stared at the image. Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina.

Conversations don’t connect.

Conversations don’t connect
as if there is a wire in my brain
that has been severed
and no current can get through.
When people speak
the signal is often weak
and my ears they can’t carry all the words
chopping a few through as the rest fall out
and tumble out
never entering my brain.

I feel overwhelmed
trying to fill in the missing words
and then several more voices speak
in crowds I turn weak
trying to keep up.
The words they never make it
and mumbles drift out of my mouth
as the rest stays locked up
as my brain tries to process
and it is never fast enough
slowly churning
most of it is lost
and I begin to panic
and I stop
and turn away.

A struggle to keep up
to process
to listen.
Sometimes I speak
before they are finished
because my brain will forget
quickly every thought
and I’m trying
slowly beneath the rest
with their poised words
and conversationalist skills
as I stare above
down at the bottom
feeling small
and smaller
till I stop talking at all
and I turned to written text.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Good and bad doesn’t really exist.

At this point in time
I’m not looking to save
or to fix.
I’m just preparing
for the final collapse.

Yes there is good
and for all that good
it’s balanced by bad
and that’s an even score.

Although
good and bad
doesn’t really exist
in factual grounds
which complicates
the entire conversation
because your opinion
and my opinion may not connect.

Which means
good and bad
cannot be defined
at this time.

Yet it will
and yes it has been said
taking a life is bad.
Although hunters kill deer.
That’s ok it’s said
It manages the population.
What about our population?
That’s human life.
What about war?
They are bad.
By whos definition?
Who is bad?
Which side is bad?
Which side is good?

As I stated above
at this point
I’m not looking to save or fix.
For opinion is always justified
on a bias
and saving
would be hard terms to set
because all those thoughts
would take beyond a lifetime
to sort through
and every mind filtered through
would be that of a biased mind.
By the end
the terms would be left undefinable.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Uneasy Silence.

Under the boards they could hear it
never stopping masked by their voice
easing the nerves as they speak
allowing the empty spaces to fill
slowly their words stopped the knocking
yelling as the knocking started again.

Silence is what we ask
ill that is what they are
loudly tapping
every time conversations stop
noise cancels noise
cancelling the despair
endlessly nervously till the thoughts overtake and the silence sets in
destroying their comfort
because silence is where their truth lives.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina