The Great Duality

Happy Saturday to you! Here's your Saturday Post!

I dreamt this week that I was surrounded by deep water, but my living situation was a high hill with many buildings (think Minas Tirith in the Pacific). My view was sometimes from under the water, and sometimes from a middle place looking down. Family and certain friends were there, and I was teaching. I'm not yet at an age when grandchildren run about my legs, but I feel like it is always going to come down to that balance of duality; not undecided, but with singularity of purpose.

This fountain in me seems full
Grace
Truth
Christian
Pharisee
Family
Business
Pme
Qme

This journey is me feels forked
Heaven
Hell
Acceptance
Rejection
Paul
Peter
Joy
Dejection

I seek purification within and without
Heart
Life
Maturity
Childishness
Wings
Weights
Love
Indifference

I run this race to win
Get up
Go on
Learn
Unlearn
Build up
Take down
Win
Burn

The natural tendency is to choose one side
But I have
Can't you see
Hidden
In plain sight
Complicated
Simplicity
My shadows
Prove a light

When I lived on the East Coast, I told my older brother I was vacillating between staying and moving back to CA. He told me, "once you make the decision you'll have peace". It took about a year before I moved back, but from the point of choice, both options worked toward my goal. I was so scared for so long that people would beat me down for saying out loud the things I say, as if it were about me. I've been told this week, "Do you have any idea how strong you are; and how intimidating that is?" Would it were not so.

I'm human; cuts hurt. I am a phoenix too; only in Christ. I've been given a "talent", and I am duty-bound NOT to bury it, but to make it bear fruit. I was told by a pastor in Virginia, "you have kingdoms in you..." and that is one of the things that have driven me to write poetry, stories, emails, blog posts, dreams... It makes room, like an overfull vessel being emptied (and the relief is sublime).

It is not about me, no matter how I benefit.

With words, song and prayer
TiMo V

Water Dream III

***Another dream of water***

I was at home with Biscuit, my dachshund. We lived on beachfront property in California, which afforded us spectacular views I assume. The light outside the house told me it was about 4ish, so I figure I was winding down my day, waiting for my husband to come home. I was writing and playing with the dog when the day became oddly darker.

I went to the back of the house, which faced the beach. Beautiful latte colored clouds were outside, casting an ethereal grey-gold tint to the sky and water. I became aware that the beach was strange somehow. Not empty of people, but still odd and and quiet. I thought to myself, Okay Lord, is it today? But God was silent, and the sea and sky would not answer. I just stared out, afraid to look, and afraid to stop. The tides were off. I didn't go into our small cement back yard, but I noticed that the water came up to the sand at the bottom of the wall before receding. In my dream mind, I considered the movie Deep Impact where the girl and her father stood on the beach waiting for the wave to take them. 

God didn't have to say a word. 

I knew it was coming, I just didn't know if I had seconds or minutes before it arrived. I went to the front of the house for some reason, when a chill ran through me, and I dashed back see what was happening on the beach. Darkness walked towards the coast from the horizon, and I was about to turn and call Tony when I noticed there was no water on the beach, only a shadowy wall that I knew to be a tidal wave.

It hit, and then receded. My windows didn't crack or break, and Biscuit was cool as he always is. The water was slate and salt and I knew the house was submerged because there were no bubbles. I didn't think about it at the time, but the windows in my house must have all been closed. I ran to the front of the house, waiting for the impending wall of water to claim me and all that was in the house. But the waters receded. I turned to face the rear windows, and the resting water was just at the top of my backyard mini-wall. I tried to escape via the front of the house at that point (silly child) and getting Biscuit past our metal fence was enough of a challenge that I picked him up. I knew another wave was coming and we didn't have much time, so I went back into the house.

Once again, the tidal wave exploded against us. Once again, the water was over the home. And once again the waters receded and I was safe. Shortly after this, mountains of garbage came towards our broken levy of a coast. People were outside looking and commenting on the state of our ocean. I wanted to laugh, and I wanted to scream at them for being stupid and unsafe, but I wasn't about to open my windows. The tidal wave of trash is what knocked my home off of it's foundation and pushed it through the city. We rocked in our house-sized crib all the way downtown...

The dream jumped to the next scene, where I was with my husband in his work-building. There were no windows. His supervisor wanted him to explain why we were going a certain way, but this really heavyset guy with ashy blond curls turning into dreads stood there in sandals, socks, cargo shorts and a tie-dye rainbow t-shirt interrupting him, letting him know that he knew we were saved and wanted to take us to get some water.

That's when I woke up.

*** *** ***

Subliminal response to my life or prophetic dream warning... what do you think?

With words, song & prayer, TiMo

May 12th at 2:05am I Journaled..

Yesterday I woke up with the word FAST tattooed and blinking on my thoughts. It wasn't "hmmm, should I fast?” or "I should fast for a week… starting two days from now…” It was like a solar key chain with the work “FAST” blinking in grayscale, and pulsing from front to back of my waking thoughts.

I sent a text to a group of people I knew would understand the random, yet severe nature of my missive. It read:

​Good morning... apologies if it is too early. I woke up with the check in my spirit to FAST today. For those of you who can join me please do. I won't be on Facebook and I'm also fasting all food but water until sundown. I don't know whose battle I'm addressing, but I say, "Speak Lord, for your servant is listening."

If you can't fast, please join your prayers with mine that the Lord's will be done, and that His victory bring great honor to Himself and His children,  shutting the mouths of the disbelievers as it did the lions in the den with Daniel. I'll be meditating on/in the books of Samuel.

God bless you all, and feel free to forward and ask others to join in if you feel led to.

I will be forever humbled that I heard and obeyed the call to fast, and was a part of the battle that took place on 5/11/15 – one month to the day that Andrew collapsed in Costa Rica.

Early in the day, the doctors were concerned because his heartbeat and blood pressure were too low, while the cranial pressure was too high. At 1:38pm, Mom sent a Voxer message – my brother Andrew flatlined, but they resuscitated him.

My brother called me shortly after Mom’s message, and he and I prayed together.

God spoke to me yesterday in the waking hour, and I listened. I am His. And He is mine. I know His voice. And He knows me. Many women prayed with me via text and individually. The wife of my pastor and a friend of mine in the American South also fasted with me. We kept the prayers going all day. There was even a point where I made up a song refrain. I suspect it will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Thank God for the people who sent loving words, scriptures, made calls, and prayed – and a doubly portion to those who continue to. I know that Andrew is playing with Moses right now!

I felt him whip a hug around my heart about 20 or so minutes before I got the news... It hurts, and I'll miss him, but I know where he is, and who he is with. I truly love my big brother. That gives me great peace.

Andrew Richard Beard

June 26, 1972 - May 12, 2015

My big brother, such a dork sometimes…
© Tiffany Monique 2009

With words, song & prayer,
TiMo

In the Cave - For Mom

Hope you enjoy your Saturday Post!

Where it is darkest
I stand
Exhausted
One more curve until I see the light
In the cave

Where I have been walking
I pause
Preparing
One more rest before the next move
In the cave

Where I have no reference
I consider
Poignant
The path that I am on
In the cave

Where there's so little light
I remember
Persistence
Stopping where I am is deadly
In the cave

Where shades and shadows dance
I consider
Allegory
Perception is reality
In the cave

Where light returns softly
I take notice
Appreciative
The exit is preceded by curves
In the cave

In honor of my Mom as a testament to her strength and endurance, as she stands vigil over her firstborn son Andrew in Costa Rica. 

Mom and Andrew
May 2014

Sometimes the battle (i.e. the cave) is the waiting.

With words, song and prayer,
TiMo

Water Dream II

A dream for your Saturday Post!

***This one is escaping me as I go, but I remember***

I was living in a dead (or severely dying town), and the floods came to the lower part where the businesses were. I was at a school located in that area practicing on some art performance. We knew the flood was coming. We thought we had more time. The practice was over, and my team was cleaning up and changing, so we unprepared when the waters came, but when they did, the group began trying to save others from the dilapidated buildings.

This was not clean blue water; it was thick like mud and full of things. It came, fast as a flash flood, but we did not see it coming. The water was under the ground (as if it were waiting since time began), and just began quickly rising. It started in early sunset, when the light shines gold through the windows and makes the dust mites dance. The ground was dirt, not paved, and soon became deceptive, hiding which was solid and which was water. It was easy to fall as the ground we stood on changed constantly.

After a while, there was a monster in the water that began to come after us. It was hungry, and I remember thinking it was evil and intelligent, but not too much so. The form escapes me, but I heard its hunger for us almost as a subliminal keening. We saved the people we could and escaped that downtown area, going (I want to say North, but it was more up in altitude) to the city, where the people were moving about, busy as with any normal day. It had to have been a time lapse, because we fought the monster at night, and reached the city at the same golden hour.

The first place we went to was a burger joint with a polystyrene feel to the air, but there were people there, and the food was enticing. I remember seeing a beef burger with sliced onion, lettuce, and tomato. It looked perfectly sized to my hungry stomach. There was an argument amongst the group as to whether we should eat or keep running, and go to a place that would have more healthy food so we could last longer. The flood was on our heels, but were all exhausted.

I was surprised at the business of the people, and chastised myself for my own hypocrisy. Isn't that exactly what happened when the flood came to the low town? We knew it was coming, and we all put off preparing.

When the waters came to the city, it began to turn the strongly founded buildings to dirty wood shacks and the paved black concrete to deceptive sand. After a while again, the keening...

*** *** ***

I have ideas as to what I am dreaming about, and this dream evolves. It must be the same dream, but it grows with me, telling me different things as I dream it. Thank God, I have remembered most of my dreams upon waking since I was a small child, and when I've felt prompted, I have written them down. This next step, sharing, seems natural to me. So tell me, what do you think? Care to have a conversation about it?

With words, song & prayer, TiMo
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com

An Artistic Time Capsule - OPEN ME 1.23.15

I've been wanting to write so many things lately, but life has been playing chess with my plans.

I've had at least one idea for a play - a holiday meal with my cast of character family. Poetry coming out of my ears. I've been singing all the way to and from work, and this niggling feeling that I don't want my future children to think I gave up my creative side for the sake of a paycheck. I've signed up for my TLA Certification and I am planning on an invitation-only Dual Expression workshop for five women, once every couple months or so.

If I didn't share this with someone outside of me, I would let is sink back down and it would produce no fruit. So here's 90 seconds of me reminding myself to do these projects, share these thoughts, and invite those who are meant to join me to do so.

I invite you. I invite myself.

Check back with me in January 2015 and I'll be done with at least one of these things:
1. Mylu
2. Family Play - Title TBA
3. Workshop syllabus and invitees for Spring 2015
4. Something Musical - recorded

With words, song and prayer,
TiMo
Here's where you can read me
www.alwaysalreadyalright.blogspot.com
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com

Too strong to bind...

Hey! Here's your Saturday Post!

There really is nothing new under the sun
too strong to bind
you'll find... these preconceived notions
of beauty
of language
of danger and fear

There really is nothing new under the sun
too strong to bind
you'll find... these preconceived notions
of intellect
of communication
of security

this idea is unfinished... 

With words, song & prayer, TiMo
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com

Onward Looking

© Tiffany Monique February 2014

Dream: Tankers and Tidal Waves

Dreams and Weirdness

695 Beltway in the Rain

© Tiffany Monique 2008

Had a cool dream... but it has some weirdness in it too.

I was in "Baltimore" on the street where I grew up, but it was (in that strange way of dreams) only a couple blocks away from the bay. I was on my way from the corner store where some random guy bought me my choice of candy. I saw, in the Atlantic, a tidal wave coming, and there were many tankers and ships in the bay. I woke up before the tidal wave arrived, but I was right in front of the fleet of tankers as they were coming, full of scared people. This too was weird, because the water seemed to be right behind the tankers, despite the fact that I saw the housing being filled up with people annoyed at sharing space... I knew they were going to overrun the housing... but the wall of water was right there, and it was coming in. In my dream, this happened at high Noon with not a cloud in the sky.

Reflection of Mercy in Dowtown Baltmore

© Tiffany Monique 2011

Clouds at the Seashore

© Tiffany Monique 2012

A week or so later I had another dream of a dangerous wall of water flood coming. This time I was in the valley of "Oceanside" and the wall of water came over Mission Avenue, down the hill.

I felt the tidal wave arrive, but I don't remember seeing it, which was weird because I was driving towards the hill to warn someone I knew. My car was turned around and carried away in the murky, churning water towards a bright light in the East. This time the water was full of mud and such. I was alone in my car, and I felt that the warning I carried was heavy.

In my second dream, this happened at night.

I know these dreams are related, and I know my dreams speak volumes when they ping me like this...

I love to know... what do you think?

Forgiving Misdirects 7.5.13
© Tiffany Monique

With words, song & prayer, TiMo
www.alwaysalreadyalright.blogspot.com
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com

Onward Looking - February 2014
© Tiffany Monique

Friday Poetry 12.13.13

Impact Tremors

Not just the immediate metamorphosis
Not just the first seven layers of shifting skin
Something more is happening
Fathoms down
It's just too deep to see right now
But the water in the glass is moving
As it sits idle on the table
And I know it to be true
Something deep is moving
The smell of the air is affected
Flying things have shifted their patterns
Burrowing things have begun to move
Some rising to the surface
Others relocating
Where they are going, I don't know
It's just too deep to see right now
The occasional pebble does a gentle dance
Portents of the coming calamity
Or perhaps triumphant return of a deep truth
The crystallization within the geode
As it is beginning to break open
To shine forth
But I can't see it
Only I know it to be true
It's just too deep to see right now
But the certainty of it
Is humming low in the throat
In the chest
In the gut
In the crotch
In the knees
In the undersides of the feet
It's just too deep to see right now

Geode Dfly Love
December 2013 © Tiffany Monique

With words, song & prayer,

TiMo
Here's where you can read me:
www.alwaysalreadyalright.blogspot.com 
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com



Friday Poetry 8.9.13

Image subject to copyright

I See Dying People

I am surrounded by children these days
There are so many hiding in nakedness
Crying out in disrespectful retorts
Begging to be seen for who they truly are & loved in spite of themselves
They scream laughter because they don't know how much they hurt
They don't want to know
They are afraid to look at their own brokenness
See how scared they are
Of being left behind and looked over
I see them like scenes in a horror film
Long drawn faces of despair
Beggars in a marketplace
Covered in dirty lies and smeared makeup
Scars of lost time and lost hope
They are dying, shouting as they suffocate
Can I come up for air?
Don't leave me behind!
See me! Save me! Love me!
I am surrounded by the beautiful young
Free in body while bound in mind
I am surrounded by their absent looks
And their rage against hopelessness
Tears behind rolled eyes
Afraid to speak, because they have so much to say


A Dream in Prose
A few weeks back, I dreamed of a girl I know. I woke up crying with the joy of feeling overrun by love. After meeting and talking to a young woman on 8/7/2013, I see that there was more to my dream than I initially realized and I would like to share:

The young girl came into the room where I was talking to someone. As she did in the past, she came into the room with her arms out, waiting for her hug from me. Her hands were balled in fists, as she was holding the ends of her shirt in them, so I embraced her, thinking nothing of this ritual. I tried to let her go, but she had buried her face in my left shoulder and was silently sobbing. She didn't want the other people in the room to see, but she couldn't hold it in and she thought I was safe. So I held her secret cries. I held her and stroked her back and kissed the top of her head (which was covered with a white bandanna that had multi-color dragonflies on it). She and I stayed like that for a good long time, and she just cried and cried, and I just poured love into her, rocking and rubbing her back and squeezing her tight. From my shoulder she said something into my ear. I heard it clearly in my dream but I can't recall it now. It was something about wanting to do this for her daughter someday, I think. I said something back, and it was the 'right' response, but I can't remember what it was.

With words, song & prayer,
TiMo
Here's where you can read me:
www.alwaysalreadyalright.blogspot.com 
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com

Yours Truly, Summer 2011

Friday Poetry 7.19.13

Note to the Fallen
You are not allowed to give up on yourself
You are simply NOT allowed
She needs you
He needs you
They need you
I need you
There is nothing wrong with hurting
Pruning is not meant to be comfortable
Learning not to live by thorn
But by rose
Living outside the walls
Of your own comfort zone
You are not allowed to give up on yourself
NOT allowed
Here at the end of this journey
Just before your own coronation
Not of your entire journey
But of this moment
There are other adventures to be had
Far beyond this one
Far far beyond
You are not allowed to give up on yourself
You are NOT allowed to give up
The world needs you
You

From 2010 With Love
Cuando me sueño, uso una lengua que es solo mio
Una sonrisa, una palabra, un cuerpo tambien
Mi corazon esta fuerte, mi boca es grande
Mi cabeza es el mar, mis manos son montañas
Un chiste de sangue y hueso
Yo soy mi sueño
Mi sueño de yo

With words, song & prayer,
TiMo
Here's where you can read me:
www.alwaysalreadyalright.blogspot.com 
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com

Yours Truly, Summer 2011

Friday Poetry 7.5.13

Changing Courses, and Forgiving Misdirects

Short Prose Inspired by Robert Frost
"Two roads diverged in a wood"
And you took them both
Sometimes you want so bad to travel on a particular road
And despite the detour signs,
Construction men,
And police ribbons
You find yourself hurt that the way is impossible to travel
It'll take a minute,
Regrouping
Learning the new way
(Thank GOD for G.P.S.)
And then you turn yourself around
And you get going on the right road
Yes
You're annoyed at the time you lost
At the ground you gave up
Due to wrong turn choices
But then you see this road is much easier
And faster
And your vehicle isn't suffering from the unnecessarily rugged twists
Turns,
Obstacles,
Roadblocks
And you get to where you were trying to go
Which was the exact place you were trying to go
When you were going the wrong way
But this new way
So much more beautiful
And easy
And you realize how lucky you are
To know the difference so thoroughly

With words, song & prayer,
TiMo
Here's where you can read me:
www.alwaysalreadyalright.blogspot.com 
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com

Yours Truly, Summer 2011

Friday Poetry 5.31.13

Bravery - Dedicated to Kriss Mincey

Never so beautiful as when you are singing
And believe me young lady, you've got beauty in spades
But more than that
It is your bravery I most admire
It is the golden power in you
Your chocolate brown soul
That says
I can smile and sing
America can see me
The world can hear me
I am inspired by your bootstraps
The very ones you use to lift yourself up
Cute like the sandals I saw you wear one time
Or the song in the basement
I heard you croon
When you were giving thanks
And your smile tells stories girl
Smart chic
Black nightingale
Tickle YOU love
Thursday night soul cries deep like music fingers
In the waves of oceans of ears
Fearless and fierce
Your bravery like an amulet
Your determination like a phalanx
You are a force
I am so humbled
And inspired too
Never so beautiful as when you are singing
And believe me young lady,
You've got beauty in spades

(c) 2011 Tiffany Monique

A Poem of Deconstruction, inspired by Ernest Silva
Visual vocabulary. Practical craft. Conspirators. Control. "Wars are fought for resources." Glass. Guston. Readable themes. Process of judgement. Abstract beauty.. Playful warfare. Somehow become animate. Personal commentary. Applied seductively. Painting the mask itself. "Are we beneath... are we the mask?". Paul Thek. Upheaval. Westerman. Deathship. People were curious. Passionate. Wooden wharf. Automatic weapon. Transformed objects. Elephant. Quixotic. "It impresses me". Simple inventory. Trigger associations. Goofed. "A constructed person".Volcanic. Dark sea. Visual resources. "Sense of vividness". Voyage. Abstract calligraphy. Homage. Beauty of shimmering. Ephemerality. "Tragic occurrences in the world". Superimposing. "Collisions of realities". Source imagery. Sound of the rain. Wonder. Highly saturated. Rewarding to me. "Conflict between nature & human nature... actor [is] image to pose a question... constructed to keep fear away." Synthetic quality. Unpredictability. Represent memory. Adventurousness. Evoke twilight. "Precarious balance between human nature and nature... destruction of something that is the same as you." Learn your craft. "Only become an artists if you have to". "Play it like this but then put yourself on top of it."

From January 28th 2013

Her voice is so soft, it belies her strength

A strength forgotten in the many maelstroms

I wish her power I can not give

She must take it
She must fight her way to stay awake

Where do they go 

These with voices gone

She whispers

Echoes of beautiful power

Sex, sass, strength, sufficiency

I've lost her

She lost her

I'm not the map

I'm not the way back

But I know she must go back

Back home to herself

From June 8th 2010 

I missed you hamstring.

Inner thigh tried to come between us.

We used to hang out with knees and calves at the beach, and in our dresses.

Old crones would call us provocative and promiscuous.

Perhaps we were.

But we are gonna hang out soon, and more.

You deserve your time in the sun.

A Dream in Prose from November 2009

I dreamed of a man. He was selling wares (the only one at market). Every one bought pieces that were shiny. I chose fabric. I didn't know when I chose it, but the fabric matched the man's. He and I wore dark crimson. I was trying to save a boy, a little boy. He fell against the wall, or perhaps he was thrown. The man calmed me, saying the boy was in no more danger. Then we regarded each other. He saw what I wore, or perhaps he just acknowledged that I matched him. We knew what we were to each other. A performer was behind us in purple. I did not trust them, because they'd chosen a shiny thing. They were jealous of the man and I matching, but they chose the shiny thing on their own.

From Fall 2009

The season is changing

The tide turning

But the dead do not rise

The road less taken

Is still taken

But the dead do not rise

Armies rage and conquer

Political

But the dead do not rise

Lovers come together

Love is lost

But the dead do not rise