Several creatures in existence.

Several creatures in existence
to tired for any resistance
as they look away they allow their bodies to sway
with the crowd in any way
the largest carried
emotions are often varied.

The direction
is a simple variation
either way death is in the pavement
no matter the arrangement
a good deed a bad deed
their bodies never freed
contracts never breached
the end will always be reached.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

The critters scurry within the memories that wither.

The critters
scurry within the memories that wither
and decompose from flesh to bone
eating what has grown
from the past
allowing life to outlast
the end of a breath.

Reseeding wisdom
adding in their own
liquids in a lab
a little bit in with a dab
a little bit out with a grab.

At night they imagine
in the morning they put thoughts into actions
erase the last
a new antidote better than the past
a ticket a price
nothing free is ever right.

As the critters re-examine
fighting famine
taking out nutrients
to conquer shelf life they change variants
as they thrive
within another’s demise
they learn
ignore parts over worn
and continue chattering beneath the boards.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

My happy, I’ll keep that for me.

I don’t often share my happy
it belongs to me
it’s what I absorb and not let run free
I take it in
I keep it for myself.

My pain
My hate
My anger
I want it out
disburse it back to the crowd
set it free from myself
regulate it
regurgitate and feed it
to anyone willing to take a piece
a thought
a word
and protect me from what I can’t resolve
other people’s actions
other people’s thoughts
we’re entitled to our own self worth
and yet it angers me
I have no control
and I say take it back
I don’t want any of it.

But my happy
I’ll keep that for me
and my family.

Thanks for reading.
Temperamentally Tina

Life only knows to create.

When I close my eyes
no matter the number of ties
to this life
there will only be disconnect
emptiness
a brains sending impulses
as the body takes its last breath
struggling for answers
as the brain creates images
and if I do wake
I’ll share
as if its an experience of faith
our brains set up defenses
to allow peace
in our last breath
our last thoughts
struggling to understand
why do we exist
if one day we will be forgotten
our thoughts
our minds
why do we exist
because of a higher purpose
no
because life
only knows to create
to thrive to fight
to struggle
and continue
within another.

Thanks for reading.
Temperamentally Tina

The end is what they found.

A face is commonly comprised of two eyes
heavily worn and burdened relieved through cries
a nose which is the detector
smelling for rotted nectar
and a mouth filled of teeth
to chew through the collective grief
as if all the parts together
were glued into place as a lure
to deceive each
feeling as if the truth is always out of reach.

As one will speak
all parts continue to seek
look to the side
dodging eyes
connected
by knowledge collected
yet there is a variance in ideals
between the trees sulking in all the feels.

One face
two eyes intertwined by one lace
pupils refuse to relate
switching, turning one believes in fate
we were born with all our knowledge
as the other tries to muster up the courage
to dispute the theory of a higher power
as if any one view is fitting of the tower.

What is toppling the trees
what is causing their decay, who over sees
ravishing of disease
a vaccine
a syringe over seen
laboratories and a collective goal
the disease itself isn’t the trees foe.

The trees guzzled the liquid through their roots
slurping in large groups
dehydrating the ground
the end is what they found.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Irrationality is welcome.

Art
is not meant to be without flaw
perfect lines
are mechanical creations
we are not robots
gears and links
our brains are organic
our bodies flesh
irrationality is welcome
If we don’t wonder
if we don’t question
if we only create with the hope of perfection
we will never grow
we will never change
we’d merely be a circuit board
fed information
processed through a network without feelings
our ears allow words to penetrate
our brains deflect some and absorb others
we are humans
we are not robotic
we are flesh and blood
mistakes will happen
as we share thoughts
as we share memories
as we write wrongs of others together
as we create
our art expresses our angst
our art expresses our happiness
our art expresses our love
our art expresses our hate
our art expresses us
emotions are sloppy
so why do we expect perfection
is it because life isn’t perfect
isn’t always simple
that we force our creations to be
driven by our inner perfectionist
trying to make right of the world?

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

My thoughts are never emptied.

Some days my head feels fucking huge
all the thoughts are rising
trying to burst out through any opening
working their way out through my nostrils
and pushed back in through my ears
piling higher filling higher
my mouth lets a bit slip
as several more thoughts enter
and my fingers type faster
the space is never freed
and my thoughts are never emptied
my ears ready to take on more
as my body cries out for a break
as my eyelids close
and my brain continues to run
hours and hours of content
more confusing than the last
and I awake making sense of it all
without any release
days weeks months years of life
it’ll end
and I’ll never know what happens next
maybe words will be shared
as others engage
and re-write
and re-think
and create new
out of old
as we all do
simply put we live on
through what we are willing to share.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

The highest dollmaker.

She grabbed the proper tool
swiftly she allowed the blood to fill the pool
draining him of the poison of his thoughts
she needn’t worry of being caught
as the highest dollmaker
no one would ever determine him an imposter
cold as if his skin was already porcelain
she placed her lips on his, a hand on his chin
yes he’ll suffice
a beautiful piece just right
her greatest prize
the sacrifice is his demise
she was filled of joy
her most valued toy
here’s a suit
she smiled “now I am your roots.”
she placed her hand through his back
forcing her way to his heart at last.

Thanks for reading
-Temperamentally Tina

I’m not perfect.

I’m tired of having to ask myself
how will everyone interpret this
is it safe to share
a society of over sensitivity
although that’s a me thing
because I’ve spent most my life quiet
because when I speak I offend
not on purpose I’m just honest
I forget not everyone is honest
and when I create
it isn’t to fit within standards
my goal isn’t to finish a piece
you’ve seen in a thousand different places
although I know that is what sells
and yes I’d like not to be broke
of course
although art is my place to break away
break away from norms
overburdened by words
I let them go
I draw creatures to release myself
from the bonds of perfection
because I’m not perfect
I’m irritable
I’m upset
yet I’m happy in my life
although I yell I scream I cry
and I laugh
I feel it all I share
and I create
even if it isn’t what people want
because to me success
is being myself
and never faking it.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Is that a reason never to try?

Self doubt
is the humans greatest destruction
resulting in a halt of production
never to finish
as if nothing should be done
nothing should be tried
nothing should be created
if it can’t be guaranteed a success
which is why many stop at the start
and many great works go unpublished
many thoughts unread
new revelations never made
each of us creating our own tragedy
never trying
as if success is unattainable
maybe it is…..
is that a reason never to try?

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina