Brittle bones fluids surrounding the curves.

Decades of blending
is it worth defending
the bitterness eating the nerves
brittle bone fluids surrounding the curves
tired of all the noise
caught up by the illusion of poise
defecating others hatred of skin
fake smiles often
frightened by others anger
guilt is the trigger
confusion is all the creature can muster
outer appearances they blend in with the cluster
for what’s in their heart and their head is hope
that all the hate and all the anger will fade and in unison the world will cope
seeding new love
and all that hate will dissolve
and the focus becomes repent and forgiveness
as we admit our wrongs of the past and halt impulsiveness
actions of desire
brains need to be rewired
retaught retrained from birth
and one day all that hate will have no worth.
 
Recently I’ve been using my random drawings to invoke thoughts and write poems. Tonight the above poem is what came to me as I finished drawing the image. Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina.

The flow an outpour.

The liquid begins to drip
as the creature readjusts its grip
the flow an outpour
of blood and more
bile, and tears
from all the days over the years
a heavily weighted mixture of happiness and sadness
all of it had driven the heart within madness
as if the heart could cry
thump thump with each beat the creatures claws pry
shredding it open
a gush and a life stolen
sadness an escort
the allure of a long rest doesn’t hurt
because sadness elegant cousin happy
is impossible to claim when lounging in a canopy
especially after long nights drinking with gloom
taking a leap feels improbable when it comes to out smarting doom
so instead we fester within the clutches of the temptress sadness
because they promise us rest and solitude when the light goes out and were surrounded by darkness
as happy pushes us out of the holes we make ourselves
forcing us to dust off our shelves
and exit our self-indulged interior
to smile, laugh and acknowledge the world exterior.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Living in a solar eclipse.

Each person exists
trying to find their worth within it
our opinions escalate
as we stake claim of knowledge to determine their fate
over shared and often over blown
all we know is what has been shown
the history of humanity
determined by the writer rather than certain clarity
facts often shredded
by the ones most credited
it’s as if were all living in a permanent solar eclipse
look to close to get a glimpse
and your permanently blinded
by the top rated figure head.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Infinite theories.

Decades of research
the scientists pass the torch
untouched wide expanses of space
as the rest of us grow more haste
the sun is dying
the planet is crying
searching for a home
riddled with inhabitants to dethrone.

Infinite theories
every idea makes me leery
quantum entanglement
in other words time management
in contradiction
I believe time is one direction
there is no double takes
no quick erase of your prior mistakes. 

Life is simply a condition
an act of reproduction
growth before death
distinguished by breath.

The image I chose to go along with the poem may not seem entirely relatable to each other. Often I’ll finish drawing an image and as I stare at it whatever pops in my head I’ll write down as a poem and well the poem above is what popped in my head.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina.

His entirety of self dissolved within despair.

His entirety of self dissolved within despair
like a beluga whale coming up for air
his head surfaced to fight
through the twisted waters of his plight
ready to accept doubt
withering within thought
his humanity had been lost
during the last frost
freezing cold
shivering as he stood bold
as the ice broke
allowing the others to croak
the lone survivor
living had been the lure
and after his eyes barely closed
all he could picture was the moment they all froze
beneath the ice
not everyone can get a slice
if we were all on solid ground
there would be no room for a crown.

I drew this image a few days ago and was scrolling through images I made and decided to write a reaction to this one. The poem above is what the image made me think about.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Within an ordinary swamp.

The inhabitants of this Earth
tend to wallow within an ordinary swamp
and when they rise their grime is simply the same
they titter within the shame
as if a yearning for good health
rather than wealth
is a pitiful claim.

I try to think
I try to create
I try to continue
I choose to take a chance and fail
rather than wallow
within the swamp.

Although of others I’ve felt beneath
and yet the further down I creep
the more substance and grime I’ve collected
wearing it as an honor of a new perspective.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina.

So many thoughts erupt.

So many thoughts erupt
full bloom crooked and corrupt
the tree screams to rid itself of wicked deeds
each one re-seeds
as the sun settles behind it’s protective shield
radiating its heat upon the tree branches peeled
the sun narrates
no resolve as the tree grows irate
feeling used and upcycled
dwelling within their predators arrival.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

A crooked pen binds like minds.

A crooked pen binds like minds
all the words join paraphrased
As if anyone could be pursued.

A heart fed on
twisted and gnawed upon
pounding within the rage
as if each heart deserves it’s own stage.

There is right
there is wrong
yet most fact is dissolved within opinion
and stapled upon the bulletin.

There is no purity
the world isn’t built upon simplicity
if each asshole was evil
and each kind deed came at the hands of genuine sincerity
everything would be solved.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Adrift amongst the specks.

Adrift amongst the specks
disburse the crowd upon requests
an informal greeting initiated
as the commander stays elevated
the face forces a friendly gesture
a smile stitched as each frustration must fester
a blister that takes on an identity of it’s own
the commander hasn’t always been shown

Hi
two letters wrapped in a lie
the face would rather shelter alone
forced to make nice and atone
for past mistakes
before they’d ever been awake
the commander intertwined with their late ancestors
always repeating disasters
as if life amongst the specks
could be anything other than hexed.

My drawings are a way to kind of not think and just draw something whatever happens just happens.  When finished I often use the image to inspire random thoughts within me and trigger some sort of poem.  The poem above was written in reaction to the image.  Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina