This brain belongs to me.

Here is a poem I wrote this morning…

This brain belongs to me
these thoughts they multiply
and create lies
I know I am grounded
within factual existence
I must or else I’ll break
within a fabricated society
shattering real physics
and loosing my grip entirely.

The above poem was one of several poems I wrote this morning as I was multitasking. As in washing dishes by hand, dancing, and writing in my phones notepad as I was preparing myself mentally for work. I’m not a sociable person, my home is my comfort zone out of I feel drained. Anyways it feels impossible to commit to one task at a time, because when I do nothing seems to get done.

Most of the poems go along with a story I’ve been writing for several years. Which all the thoughts had stopped, and I wasn’t able to formulate a point to it all. Until recently, in which I’ve been writing as much as possible. A poem for this blog, other poems for various projects. In the past few days many of the characters and concepts I had been thinking of sort of connected and in a moment it made sense where to take it.

One of my biggest questions of life is why are we here? What are we? How did we get here? Evolutionism? Creationism? I’ve always been an arrogant person and the answers I’ve found and or been given have felt lacking. Therefore I’ve stitched together other ideals and transformed them into my own theory. In which I don’t expect to be the true case although it’s as likely as any other. As long as I keep myself motivated and continue on I’ll actually finish this book. What has been helping me is allowing myself opportunities in which I allow the thoughts to flow without holding them back. Without forcing reason within every possible thought.

I feel the poem I shared at the top above my rambles showcases something I’m working on. I’ve been trying to break away from cliqued sentences. I’ve also been trying to force myself to break away and work out side of expected verses and boxing myself in. Does anyone else feel like that, as if they’re trapped within cliques? Especially when I rhyme I feel that way. I often use improper sentences on purpose because I always think someone made up the proper technique at one point why are we not allowed to make up our own styles today? If we keep living within these formulated parameters how will we ever create anything new?

If you made it to the bottom of my rambles thanks for taking your time to read them. I try not to make posts long because time is the most valuable measurement. Each second spent is one second closer to absolute nothingness and who wants to waste their time of total awareness?
-Temperamentally Tina.

You want more?

She looks below her feet
she lets out a giggle
“That tickles.”
she crouches down
“Is it moving?”

She leaps up
lifting one foot
then stomping it down
lifting it up and taking a look
“Gross,” she screams
“There are guts all over me.”

Different bloods mixing together
some oxygenated others not
“Eww it made purple,
get off,” she cried.
“It’s your fault,
stop crawling all around me!”

“You have plenty of space
as little as you all are
we are larger and cleaner
we are civilized unlike you creatures.”

Her eyes scoped out a spot
“Uhh…”
She kept scanning
“Well you have that tree
a patch of grass
you want more? she asked.

She stopped
“Yea so do I.”
holding the chainsaw
“This tree is mine
it’s not like I can handpick my own food
this tree will make the perfect seat
maybe a table I can sell
in order to put food on my own.”

The little things chattered about
combining together
uprising against an enemy
she rolled her eyes
“You want me to starve?”

The new creation
shook it’s head
“No I want to share wisdom.”

She tapped her foot
“I don’t have time for this
I have bills to pay
projects to make
and mouths to feed.”

The new creation spoke
“If your kind had taken less
there would be more
for fucks sake your biggest enemy
is a fictional creature named obesity
eat less, take less, and there will be enough to go around.”

“Are you calling me fat?” she asked.
Angrily she shouted again “Are you calling me fat?”

The new creation nodded it’s head yes
“That is why obesity is strong
until you realize being called fat isn’t an insult
it’s a fact
obesity won’t stop until it’s conquered your entire species.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Create

Create
and to some it will be shit
and to others it will be liked
because our minds interpret differently
and our wants aren’t all the same
and our interests divide us
yet they help us grow
if we all thought the same
advances would have slowed
and we’d been living by candle light
long past the night
and the only part I can share
is that we can’t treat any opinions as unfair
and we must accept the negative voices
because if we drown them out
we’re dismissing their own route
everyone has the right to dislike
it’s not always an attack on your life.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

What is that spot?

She stares at the blank computer screen
waiting as if the words are going to write themselves
her mind empty
she tries again
she looks down at her fingernails
a little dirt
gross.

To the sink
her hands bleed
germs are tough
the water hot
the soap almost empty
her hands still they bleed
and she only scrubs harder
turning off the water.

Her hands twitch
time to try again
she sits down at the keyboard
this time her fingers keep hitting the keys
her wrists begin to lock up
her finger tips throb
she stops.

“What is that spot?”
she scratches
it hurts
“what is that?”
she scratches harder.

Back to the sink
with running water
down to the last drop
she foams her hands
“what is that?”
she scrubs harder.

She sits back down
it hurts
she stares at the spot
it opens
she holds her hand in the window light
“what is that?”
the thing it moves
she sees pointed teeth forming in a circle

The mouth speaks
“I’ll have the rent once you finish that book, until then keep typing.”

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

With your depression bottled.

We go to therapists
to get our grips
on all of this
as if that’s their purpose
although they to stress
fret about how to dress
and they fill of doubt
maybe even regretting their route
wondering if this profession was right
they deserve a re-write
going home with your depression bottled
they take it out of their bags quickly startled
as they see a part of themselves mixed
what about their mental health getting fixed
or are they meant to be forgotten
are they only here to keep the rest from going rotten?

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

I have a heart.

I have a heart
with extra fatty tissue
it won’t kill me
that’s my life motto
something isn’t right
as the doctors state
it won’t kill you.

My heart struggles
fast beats
the more my brain
holds and retains
the harder the struggle
and the lungs have a small capacity
to retain all the insanity
created by the outward factors.

I struggle for air
and I think do I need it
could I survive
with the windows kept tight
would I suffocate on my own thoughts
submerging so far inside myself
that all they see is a coma patient?

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Guppies in the pond.

A calm posture
replaced by complicated matters
collections adding on
more guppies in the pond
and you feel overwhelmed
not enough supplies to go around
because it’s tied up in the hands of cons
you’ve pulled seven guppies out
that one has an ugly snout
with your crafty hands it’ll be workable
to bad for them they were gullible
believing you had several cures
you did only they’re meant to dissolve your fears
chop chop that flesh
will be perfect for a reset
looking down at the calluses
long hours building the betters houses
this guppy is for you
off the books your employer wont have a clue
the other six you’ll dissect
and pull out their intellect
placing it within the brains of the uppers
fed to them through their suppers.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

I shovel myself out.

All these standards to live by
all these standards to fall beneath
I shovel myself out several nights a week
buried by perfectionists
buried by misconceptions
the dirt has reached my lungs
I exhale dust
I feel ok
no forget that I feel exceptional
I feel freed
as I say never
I don’t want the tombstone
caskets are hazardous to natural decomposing
I won’t compromise this
don’t spend the money at a crematory either
just light my body on fire
and piss all over it
isn’t that what we all do metaphorically
what’s ok for you
shall never be ok for me
and vice versa
yea I’ll never lie
I’m not above gossip
if only I was a class above the standards
instead I’ll invest in a better shovel
and a vacuum
to decompress my lungs
in order to stand another day.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

As if your a truth teller.

They’re so fake
that’s a large mistake
claiming others as liars
and living beneath a lower bar
as if your a truth teller
your level of oxygen is bringing us under
all that air compressing out your lungs
it’s time all your lies have been hung
there is to many to be rung out
enough water to adverse a drought
partaking within politics
there are so many take your pick
many lies that have settled within their eyes
I believe they believe their eyes no longer cry
building a life built on the worlds mandates
so far in they have no escape
and they post pictures of happiness
repost quotes of sappiness
to their spouses
lost within houses
and most stop living to be something new
instead the goal is forgetting the lonely few
forgetting their mistakes
for all they know is to be fake.

Time is clicking by just fine.

She had been crafting for years
weaving together all their fears
a blue hat
and a sculpture made of body fat
ear muffs to block the profanities
a knitted sweater to shelter their insecurities
shoes to shrink their swollen feet
slimming garments to flatten what they eat.

Her fingers have begun to curl under
leaving her thoughts to ponder
had she wasted her time
in service to others making sure they were fine.

A clock on the wall
click click it had begun to stall
broken again
she grabs a cane she bought for a bargain
forcing her feet to stand
on the wall she places a hand
crack crack
she hit it with a loud whack.

She turned it around it let out a brief sound
no backing to be found
a quick shock
she had to regain thought
her left hand numb
I hate this clock it’s so dumb
she banged it on the ground
grabbing her cane to knock it around.

“Grandma stop that!
It is a fucking rat!
Your blind
time is clicking by just fine.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina