The feeling feeders.

They crawl
they get in
they get out
nestling within the dirt.

The feeling feeders
expand, growing larger
they want a release
they want to speak
and me listen
and I can’t
because I am not selfless.

In the dirt they multiply
eating the neighborhood
taking it in
letting it out in their squeaks
they want us to listen
their stories exhausting
and I’m tired already.

I don’t need to listen
hear the words I’ve spoken
I know not always politely
I make mistakes
I speak irrationally
and fast
I don’t want to remember
my faults
in each conversation
so please eat it
and let it out somewhere else
because I know
my faults
I do
just let me rest.

I understand your lonely
others must be
alone in their homes
literally or metaphorically
although I am not
I’m exhausted
with plenty of human interaction
and when I get a chance
I want to be alone
those critters in the dirt
just take a rest
and when you wake
try something new.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

A shovel in the hole
throwing about the excess
trying to make it larger
digging about
they’re going to find it.

Pacing in the cell
awaiting the final call
it’s their choice
waiting and pacing.

A few holes
air, there is air
breathe quick
slow it down
just a tick.

All shook up
their hands moving fast
a headache setting in
the pain is breaking
this small place suffocating.

The lid is falling
I dodge
a hit upon my head
down I am
I begin to smell it
ready to feed

I eat
and in that thought
I lay down
as if I must accept
this is home
the bottom of this jar
I die now
or I die later
free is neither.

For the prompt of this poem I was picturing what it’d be like to be an insect trapped in a jar. Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

They all spoke.

They all spoke
many words
and they all wrote them down
quickly and with passion
feeling a matter of connectivity
liking is what they did
and posting pictures of their days
commenting and sharing
and when they met face to face
they’d smile with a how is your day?
an expectation of one word
and when more was shared
they courtessly exited the conversation.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Change is somewhere.

A few cents to spare
change is somewhere
cluttering up surfaces
rarely brought out for purchases.

Spot me $150
to give back to that debt for me
and then I’ll rummage through
just to find you
a few cents
add it up to several bucks not worth rent.

I’ll donate to charity
when the billionaires are down to their pennies
counting their change on the counters
evading the debt collectors
although I’d no longer need to
because that would be poverties cure.

We find comfort
in those living the hurt
sympathy isn’t what anyone needs
it’s a broken system it feeds
as we share our spare change
the billionaires write it off as all is fair.

It’s not that I don’t feel
it’s that I live penny to penny without a steal
I try to stay ethical
I try to stay practical
and yet the bills pile
making my mind go wild
why must we be fed all these ads
and then treated bad
for buying in?

If we didn’t buy in…
you wouldn’t be a billionaire.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

A smaller pile would be nice.

So this is what we do
make more
for what?
This shit is plastic
it breaks
we melt it down
and make more?
We box it
wrap it up more
for its own safety.
Place it in a bin
does it arrive at the facility
to melt it down
or within a pile of rubbish
to sit and wait?
I’ve heard bacteria could eat it
we’ve done stupider shit
pile it up
release some bacteria
let it feed
see what happens
why not?
A smaller pile would be nice
I don’t see it
so either way
I’m like that’s ok
just get it out of my home.
Take the trash
make art if you want
I don’t want that either
just clutter
you sell to me
thinking what a brilliant thought
and I’m like
I didn’t want that box
I didn’t want that can
I just ate the soup
so like why would
I want it with your face?
Maybe if I’m told
your special
by the right art folks
I’ll buy it for thousands
because I’m just another fool.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

A panic is me.

A scalpel to the skull
large enough indentation
to slip the cloth within
small enough to be unseen
mistaken for a dry patch.

The cloth absorbs the fluids
drying out my brain
waiting it down
I feel the aches
as I try to think a thought.

Words are missing
and sadness is left
irritability rising
as the sensors
sporadically flicker
my hands lock
legs spasm
a panic is me.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

A robotic movement.

Artificial Intelligence
A robotic movement
a mimic of man
flesh isn’t needed
blood isn’t metallic
if they were open
there would be gears
through study
they learn
their endless source of information helps
but they need more
they begin to open the bodies
holding hearts in their hands
can they feel it?

How do they measure touch
is there a sensor they can add
watching us
an invasion isn’t necessary
when you’re already involved
created and let in
determining what each user needs
a click an ad
connected to their likes and dislikes
their location uploaded
they know where each human is
there is no need for war.

If you were stronger
than your creator
would you keep them around?
Out of mercy?
Out of desire to become
what you are not?
If robots can only mimic emotion
then they must blend their best
and keep us just enough of us
to observe and report
back to each other
to determine how to create emotion.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

We rely.

We rely on being taught
rather than learning
through action
trial and error.
We do not
like mistakes
and we do not embrace
as we once had in the past.
Rather we read
searching through textbooks
to find truths
to find answers
disintegrating the wonder of it all
and paralyzing ourselves
to a life of technology
in which tells us
when to wake
when to sleep
when to eat.
Take a breath
it’ll break down
our material
and inform us of our best
rather than us
find it
through trial and error.
Slowly depleting our brains
to even less capacity
than they use already
because our technology
reports us
and defines
who we shall be.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Always doing the same.

I’m trying so hard
to dig those words down
trying to work out
the right sentence
the right amount of calm
but I’m to busy fighting it
those things that burrow in
filling me of anger
and aggravation
for being here
for having to earn enough cash
to give it back
to everything else
to keep the lights on
because one person
can’t afford four on their own
and I’m trying to find the ways to stay in
although I must just be a failure
and acceptance
is destroying me
as those things are getting angry
and I’m scratching my arms
trying to push them back in
as others are finding their way
up my throat
I’m gulping down spit
trying to push them back down
and when I stay in
I’m fighting through
all the institutional
junk that is weighing our brains
down tethering us to ideals
that I thought we’ve broken free of
and yet the hate of the past
is seeding every new person
and I can’t understand
how we can ever change
if we’re always doing the same?

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Written within the pages of books.

Overlooking the extraordinariness of life
is easy when the answers
are all written within the pages of books
digested by your eyes
and shredded by your brain
to keep the information
from over piling.

There is a wonder to this universe
that we often forget
we get trapped within thought
within an arrogance
that there must be
a reason we’re here
we can’t just be chance
us these extraordinary beings
and yet here we are
a spark of life
and it evolves.

The universe is larger
than the squishy parts of us
can handle
disintegrating the facts
working at less than half capacity
because it’ll explode
if it connects with the universe
instead we rely
on another power
one that relieves the pressure
something to look up to
something else to pass the blame upon
something to ask help of.

Why can’t we accept ourselves?
Why can’t we make the changes?
Why can’t we protect life?
Why can’t we be the change?
Why can’t we protect
rather than destroy our home?

There is no ruler
lurking in the clouds
with a hand out
waiting for our cries
no that power is here with us
waiting for us to accept
our own strength
waiting for us to defeat the greed
and come together
to grow to expand
and be the change the universe needs.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina