neither craven nor valiant
an indifferent air
calm and collected
all invited
regular
expected
within easy reach
the end
for everyone
Tori Burris Inkley
2/7/20
[Blackout Poetry – excerpt from Moby Dick by Herman Melville]

Always breathing. Always learning. Always searching. Always dreaming.
neither craven nor valiant
an indifferent air
calm and collected
all invited
regular
expected
within easy reach
the end
for everyone
Tori Burris Inkley
2/7/20
[Blackout Poetry – excerpt from Moby Dick by Herman Melville]
So I’m not terribly close to my dad. I suppose. At present. I used to be… when I was a little girl. A little less as a teen. A little less still in college. And then after I married and moved to California, we basically maintained a telephone relationship, seeing each other once every year or so. But for over a decade now, we haven’t seen each other at all. Even the phone calls ended somewhere along the way. And then the coup de grace came around the end of November 2016 when I found I just didn’t have the energy anymore.
Let me make it clear that my dad is not a bad man. In fact, I truly believe at his core, in his heart, he is a good man. It’s just that he and I are polar opposites when it comes to many of our beliefs, and we hit a wall we couldn’t get around/over/through. The distance had been growing for years, but on this last issue, my own anger became so fierce that in order to save myself, I had to cut ties. So I did.
I guess it doesn’t really matter what the last straw was. It’s enough to say it was huge. And we were both headstrong enough to not back down. Social media was not my friend, as I took quite the virtual beating from some of his pals. So I made the decision and I broke free from the situation. I’ve honestly never regretted that. My heart and soul and peace of mind required me to do so. I’m grateful I had the strength to follow through because the anger and negativity was eating me up.
So after almost four years, we haven’t really found our way back to each other, although I finally began answering his texts a few years ago. The messages between us are short and factual and almost formal in nature. Oddly though, they always end in “I love you”. You see, I never stopped loving my dad. Even though we grew WAY apart… he’s my dad. Two years ago, when my oldest daughter was planning her wedding, I decided to extend the olive branch and invite him and my stepmother to the wedding. I’m not really sure what response I was expecting, but they RSVP’d with a “No”. Part of me was relieved I suppose, but part of me was incredibly sad. I guess in the excitement of the upcoming wedding, I had envisioned a happy reunion and some sort of rekindling of a father-daughter relationship.
In the two years since, we have continued to text. The subject matter seems to always revolve around someone’s health and doctor’s appointments. Boring and predictable, but at least it’s some sort of contact. My love for my dad continues, and I have no grandiose ideas that things are going to change much. This morning I found out that he’s been admitted to a rehabilitation center due to some health issues. I’m worried. I’m sad. I’m wondering how it will all turn out and if he knows when I text “I love you” that I truly do mean it… even though we haven’t really spoken in years.
I’m not terribly close to my dad. But he’s still my dad.
Note: My dad passed away around 2AM this morning (6/4/20). And I’m so incredibly sad. I truly did love him. He was, after all, my dad.
The tide turns…
Coming in…
Coming in…
Going out…
And I relish it.
The energy and the spirit flow to me
And I drink them in…
Every drop
This is a welcome change
Will the world stop if I take a moment for myself?
… if I care about myself
… if I focus on my own energy
… on my own balance
… on my own soul
I smell the sea in my nose
Taste the salt on my lips
Feel the sun on my shoulders…
Yet I’m miles and miles from an ocean
Instead it was given to me…
By me…
In a thought
In a word
In a feeling
In a wish
I am the ocean
I am the waves
I am the energy
I am
And I am
Tori Burris Inkley
3-10-19
Breathe in, breathe out.
The rise, the fall.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Be proud, stand tall.
Relax, relax.
Slow down your pace.
Relax, relax.
Smile on that face.
Wake up, wake up.
No time to sleep.
Wake up, wake up.
Promises to keep.
Faster, faster.
We need it now.
Faster, faster.
We don’t care how.
Breathe in, breathe out.
The rise, the fall.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Now do it all.
Tori Burris Inkley
8/21/18
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
Be at peace, dear child
Let the grass tickle your toes
and the sun warm your shoulders
This life is yours
All yours
Only yours
The laughter
The love
The tears
The heartache
All yours
Do not shy away from the hard times, dear child
For those are the times you discover who you are
The laughter and the joy are magnificent
But in the salt of your tears you are found
Use every moment of this beautiful life, dear child
To learn to stand on your own
And if while standing, you discover how to run,
Or to fly,
Or to just breathe,
Then every single tear was worth it.
Tori Burris Inkley
6/24/19
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
like the ocean
like the sky
like my 1976 celica after an old boyfriend dented and scratched it and I had it repainted
like a carolina tarheel
like my favorite light sweater
like the eyes of my oldest daughter when she was an infant in her great-grandfather’s arms
like a sapphire
like berries for sal
like suede shoes in the 60s that you had to stay off of
like a jay in the trees
like the moon of kentucky
like eyes crying in the rain
like midnight
like dress uniforms
like a slurpee at your local 7-11
like marge simpson’s hair
like the body of an avatar
like a lonely fall weekend with a cold wind blowing and no motivation to be found
Tori Burris Inkley
6/25/16
In the cool morning air I sit
Half awake and full of questions
Longing for quiet relaxation
On a beach perhaps?
Or a mountain peak?
The clouds cover me and the trees embrace me ever so gently.
The day is young, but I am not.
Caught between mother, daughter, wife, friend, self…
Shuffling thoughts and prioritizing
Waiting for clarity
Longing for peace
Begging for strength…
Life is funny.
Life is cruel.
Life is beautiful.
And here I sit… shuffling thoughts.
Tori Burris Inkley
8/20/18
The Poetry of Emotion
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Listen to your inner self..it has all the answers..
Bernie Gourley. Traveling Poet-Philosopher
Some thoughts from author and agent Marie Lamba
The home of poetry
Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.
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