Tori Dreamer

I watch
And I wait
Worry and wonder

Surely they’ll see
Maybe today’s the day
But the hate continues
The divisiveness remains

Blind eyes turn once again
Ears refuse to hear
Or upon hearing, refuse to listen

These are our sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, CHILDREN
Skin is skin is skin…

The human plight is OUR plight
The crumbling country is OUR country
The hopeless suffering is OUR suffering
The uncertain future is OUR future

What once seemed a joke, is now simply sad
And the anger roars and the words cut
And suddenly the truth doesn’t matter

And suddenly the truth doesn’t matter?

When did this happen?

How did this happen?

Why did this happen?

The fear
The fury
The “faith”
The future?

And suddenly the truth doesn’t matter?

Tori Burris Inkley
2/5/20

man
woman
child
people

splendid
full
beautiful

however,
high wall
great power
feared by world

woman standing looking
fresh and green she longed for
desire increased
woman knew she could not
miserable

husband worried
our house shall die

man loved wife
no matter the cost

In the twilight
he climbed over the wall
and took his wife

She
happy
longed for more

her husband once more
was afraid

How dare you thief?
You shall suffer
frightened husband
have mercy, I had to
My wife would have died

baby daughter
in fear
took away

beautiful child
shut in
no doors
only a little window
she stood beneath the window and cried

she heard voices
wounded
fell
in her loneliness
passed

we cried

we cried

frightened man began to talk
his heart stirred
no rest
no fear
he was kind

I will go away but how

come
we shall escape together

the young child
separated from the world
deceived
seized
lay on the ground
angry
poor
grief
misery
she cried

dearest she
beautiful bird
no longer singing
banished
in despair
with life, but the thorns pierce

the dearest roam in misery for months
no happy and content

Tori Burris Inkley
6/20/19

I love early mornings.
The quiet semi-slumber of the world…
Birds using their morning voices,
as the chipmunks run and play without worry.
Fresh air, dew on the lawn, light breeze…
and quiet.
This time is lost on those who hate mornings,
rushing to work,
cursing their schedules,
running behind…
I know.
I’ve been there.
Still am sometimes.
But as the grass tickles my toes
And the sunlight hits my shoulders,
I realize… I just may be a “morning person”.

And shhhhhhh…
I’m okay with that.

Tori Burris Inkley
6/22/16