TMCFin - Tommi Mäntynen

I'm a 31 year old Poet. From Finland. A true mix of Identities & Cultures. (*See below*) Grew up in a 50-50 split Community, jumping between Social Circles.

I'm a "Renaissance Man" of sorts. My life story includes:

"The Struggle" - The poor boy, 'Street Style & Hunger', service industry. Changed jobs constantly. Tried to find a way, and make sense of life. Simultaneously I had an eye for Art.

The Artist:

It all started with Drawing (Grandpa) inspired me at a young age, to pursue creativity.

Writing lyrics at 19, began on my Birthday (On-Off)

Found Painting, creativity is in the Blood. (Relatives). But it was my Spiritual Guide and Friend who was a part of this Chapter.

Freelanced in IT for a couple years. Until my hobby for cooking, fine-dining won. I started to get burnt out by 1 & 0's.

Cooking & Culinarism: Started craving a performance art. Middle Children need their attention too! All this bloomed to a "Headchef". This time was 'The Forge", that shaped me. Passion & Chaos. Paying off all my Youths mess. ;D

Returned to IT & Remote working, and went Traveling. Almost all of Europe has been visited, and many places "lived in" - Staycations!

My lyrics had slowly transformed to Poetry over the Years. Until I encountered the 'Artist's Muse' who dared me to post it all. Slowly a Poet was born. And I remembered Grandma was a Poet. May she bless my Craft. :)

Cultural Identity:

1. Swedish (Mother Tongue) - 'The Correct'

2. Finnish (50-50 Bilingual) - 'The Raw & Humble'

3. Int - English (Art, work, travels) - "The Player in 'The Game' "

Stick around for the Madness! Through Poetry I did mad shadow work. I can explore thoughts, feelings, memories and the ideas I burn for in this format. No TV or, media just Art and The Code. My artist side took a "Dopamine Detox" during my headchef & travel days. IT is my screentime work + internet.

There you go, tried to fit a life in a nutshell.

Socials:

🌟 Reddit: u/Sufficient_Bite_3111 (Abandoned, NFSW marked)

⭐️2nd Life on Reddit:

https://www.reddit.com/u/Particular-Memory802/ (Discontinued)

A rose from a crack,

Rising from decay, reclaiming

What was lost;

The now- call it spirit, call it dao.

~ Poetry a language of lies? ~

Feed me fantasy-

So my animalistic nature;

~ I'll hide. ~

Promises of white beaches-

under a pastel sky.

Painting dirt, to a new hide.

Ended the search, to a place I found.

Wish I could tell you sweet lies,

keep the secret;

"I'm fine".

Scribbles:

Illusionist

Go ahead! Abuse

Sacrifice

Use I for a villain.

Pick 'n' choose-

Don't let I blow the Ruse.

I'd happily watch hangman

Tie their noose.

Twisted, confused?

'Thorny petal blues'

All for a self-image.

Baby, Blue

Parkbench

Love or a stranger?

Are we sharing same things, or potentially dating.

Do we split like german, or am I paying?

Do you believe in magic?

Or is it a foreign saying?

Poem from irl

Served beer for brunch.

She comments: "We don't typically serve that."

I giggle it off: "Oh, I believe you."

As I'm handed my check,

little too close to skin.

List of Flowers in Order:

Rose

Germander Speedwell

Spreading Bellflower

Lupin

I have spent a moment of gratitude for my Poetic Journey. And I reflected on all the "creatives and organizers", I've met along the way.

Thanks all, BIG LOVE for hearing me. And sharing in expression. Ya'll taught me; Culture & Identity

To Infinity

Discarded Mixed-Media:

(*Cutting Room Floor)

Annetaan itsellemme palan palata,

Asettaa uusiksi, kukka maahan.

Tämä tuntuu hierovan monia,

Olkoon niin.

En tullut pulmia solvimaankaan.

Kuu

Katselemme kuuta,

Eri suunnista, mielessä maalailen meille pilvilinnaa.

Ainut asia jota lupasin ja pystyin antamaan.

On ne öiset hetket.

Hiljaisuudessa, kaukana toisistamme.

Kun katsomme yhdessä

kuuta.

Itseinho #57

Rakastan soratietäni, postikoodiani.

10x 300, Pyhä Katariinan lapsia.

Täällä ei kysellä kadulla.

Juoruillaan porvareina, heittäen kiviä.

Samalla tiellä uima-allas ja lähiö jonne likaiset viedä.

Tätäkö olen?

Vauhdilla läpi soratien.

"Nouse, Istu. Aivan sama!"

"Kurjuudesta pitää aina voimalla nousta!"

Ihan pienestä opittua, kuten äidinmaidosta tullutta.

-Häpeä! Häpeä! Musta täplä.

Tikkuna kuten roskavuori keskellä kaunista maisemaa.

Ikinä ei sovita mielikuvaan.

Jatkuvasti kuulen.

Samaa soittoa eri torvista.

Ääni vaihtui kellossa.

"Nyt pitää sitten, Istua!".

-Ei saa olla parempi eikä leveillä. Kuin virtsalla täytettyä kuplaa.

Nöyrä?

Aivan sama,

Tein oikein, olen paha.

I see the spoiled writhing, seething.

-"Look at them, arrogant & overconfident."

Call it whatever. In the end.

I'm not trying to appear cool, nor clever.

I'm doing what you'd never.

Dreamers and the Spoiled Pt. II

-"Dreamers, absolute timewasters.."

Spend their days smelling, pretty little flowers.

Pathetic.

Like "yea yea".

"We heard you in the back with your dreamin",

Whatchu know bout 'Timing'?

Look at you, you have no patience.

Constantly on a high,

Build your stakes then.

Buncha wastemen.

Yet in that wastebin,

Lies, a dead dream.

The Dark Pt. III

Fortune favors the brave, they say.

To hold on. In low visibility,

To walk in uncertainty, facing the mountain of

Impossibility.

To feel, yet not split.

To keep a dream constantly lit.

Without victory.

A hard pillow to swallow.

Can't judge the ones.

Burrowed in sorrow.

Swedish Melodic-Blackmetal 🇸🇪🖤

Finnish Punk 🇫🇮🖤

Looking at faces o' pubgoers:

Young 'n' Old - faces wearing joy, lust, sorrow.

Drinks reveal: flair, charm, 'class' /

By what's worn in glass.

These the tales of "Drink"?

In bodies liquidated yet hollow¿

-Too deep again, don't you think..

"As I, sigh proceed to drink."

Micro-Poem

Served beer for brunch.

Server comments "We don't typically serve that."

I giggle it off: "Oh, I believe ya'."

As I'm handed my check,

a little too close to skin.

Embracing Metal again. 🤟

I wanted a frappalacca

But I couldn't prononounce it.

Black coffe.

Cause the glam?

I couldn't announce it.

Dust & Water

Feet as kicking clouds,

Ground's dusty- soil's loose,

We need waters. Settling the airborne.

Rain to pack down,

Dirt into solid.

Gluing particles to earth.

Filling cracks, bridging space, and gaps.

All bits n bobs

scattered round.

Blown away

or settled down.

Forming clay.

Human.

Bygslyfe

Thousands of flowers scattered along the meadow.

Under them, crawlers may roam?

Do they see valleys, oceans. Lakes as puddles.

Build houses, run their bubbles.

All under her roof,

Flowers in bloom.

200 Km/h - aesthetic

Open road, seatbelts off.

Loving thrill, scents of gasoline.

The speedometer’s a joke to me.

Riding with Death.

200 km/h

Still doesn’t cut it for me.

Drive off a cliff

Just to feel.

At the funeral: RIP.

He was dead long before then.

Mothers

There for her cubs,

Fierce in territory, nesting -

“Stay away, doggy.”

When Mom is near,

Flowers speak,

There’s cake, there’s cheer.

Mothers love extends

far and near,

Filling our bellies

With royal jelly.

Our moms are queens,

Wise in strategy, leading

pretty black and yellow bees.

Mother Nature lulls to sleep.

Last year: