Showing posts with label Griotte!. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Griotte!. Show all posts

Friday, January 1, 2016

Consider the Dragonfly

Happy New Year! 

In lieu of a Saturday Post, here is a New Years promise, kept and keeping.
You rarely hear dragonflies 
Coming or going
Resting or moving
Not unless they are very close
Intimately close
Their song
Scary as the portents of
a new year
a new choice
a new life
Amazing
And unapologetic
For being
Quiet OR beautiful
They don't talk mess about 
how bam is their glam
No need for marketing
They don't puff up
They just show up
fly
be beautiful 
As they are
Don't need a billboard
to label them
beautiful
Their wings
Don't need
a million
Social media fans
Don't need merch buying followers
to increase their value
or premium
make them relevant
make them stronger
Don't need to be anywhere
Because they are
In front
On the sides
Behind
Beneath
Holding it up
Holding it down
Loud as the truth is scary
With barely any sound at all
They are free
to be heard
or ignored
Have you ever?
Let's do the dang thing. It's 2016.​

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Off the Grid

From the island paradise - a Saturday Post!

For Tabby
It takes work - real work
To live in peace
It takes pushing and pulling
Tugging and tagging
Learning
To be healthy
From tent to mansion
From pipe to rain
It takes work - real work
To be free

I find myself in subtler and subtler shackles
This size
This food
This mindset
To cry or laugh
And to get up
Say, "yes, it was my fault"
Say, "yes, I was wrong"
To mispell on purpose
To bad grammar knowingly
It takes work - real work
To love without limitations

How freeing it is
To judge myself
To carry that check-double-check
As I prepare for takeoff
These wings are unfettered
But weighted
Because it takes work - real work
To be responsible
To my heart
To my art
To my journey
To my legacy

I've never seen true sustainable living until I saw what I saw in Kurtistown, HI. I am humbled and inspired by the life of my spiritual sister and home-chic. We laughed like we never met in Kingman, but grew up in each other's houses. Having a deep friendship like that is a greater blessing that any high paying job or fully modernized mansion. I salute you girl... can I have some more stuffed peppers and iron sharpening?

With words, song & prayer,
TiMo
Yours Truly, Summer 2011
© Tiffany Monique

Friday, June 26, 2015

Happy Birthday Bro

In lieu of your Saturday Post – here is a post for Andrew:

I heard in an audio book (Proverbs for the People) that there is a traditional calling for one member of the generation to be the griot – historian of that generation (as I am female - I would be the griotte).

They are to learn the histories and tell the stories of the past and present, and feed forward to the next generation’s griot. I have never thought of it that way, but I’ve always known it to be true. I've been telling stories about Andrew since he passed out in Costa Rica.

Another proverb in that same audio book, that like it or not, as sure as the sun goes up and down, you gotta “make your 8”, meaning - “if a man don’t work, he don’t eat.” Andrew was a hard worker. I would venture to say he got it honest. All of the Beard’s did. Once decided, the job was done. It may take a while to get to the decision, but once made, the work is nothing but something to do. He was working hard, up to the moment he was no longer with us on this Earthly plane.

There is a verse in the bible that speaks of us being living epistles, read of all men, and I still read him. He’s a good study, full of intrigue and laughter, horror and joy. I wonder what his index would look like. I wonder how many of his life choices were influenced by the bible, by the people in his life, by the movies he watched. I’m sure Godfather would inform a lot of his non-essential moral questions.

Today is Andrew’s birthday. He would have been 43. He worked harder than a lot (most) of the people I know, and he didn’t do much in the way of complaining to me. He made it up in his mind to be the hero of our family circle, and he made his 8. We all saw him as a man, but I suppose we saw the S on his chest as well.
Andrew Richard Beard Jr.
June 26, 1972 - May 12, 2015
Andrew in DC, 2009 Photo by Yours Truly
Ever the teacher-mentor. Love you Drew.
© Tiffany Monique 2009
Today the family is getting together and watching as much of the Godfather movie trilogy as we can stand.

Happy birthday, bro.

This may be the last post of mourning. This may not. I am honored to have the desire/drive to write, and I will make my 8. I think it would make Drew proud.

Whatever you do - do it with all you got. None of us gets out of this thing alive.

With word, song & prayer,
TV
Andrew and Yours Truly, 2009

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Tell Your Story

Excellence to you and yours! Here's your Saturday Post!

I come from storytellers.

Our history is such that our mundane happenings become performances in sharing with others.

Last night, my brother reminded us of how he wrapped his desktop computer in a pink woven blanket, wrapped it with duct tape (for handles) and took it on a plane to England, just to have it  fry due to a faulty converter on his first plug in. The memory always made me smile, but last night's remindering lit my laugh muscles on fire for about five minutes. I'm still smoldering with hahaha's.

And so, for him (and some other people) -  here is a reminder to tell your stories.

I wrote this for a group of ladies at Goddard College, and now redirect the point to all storytellers, griots, cantadoras and the like.

Find your chairs, your trees, your stages and platforms. Your audience is already listening, whether you see them or not. The sun is going down, and it is time.



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

Saturday, June 7, 2014

dry souls II

Good day to you! Here is this Saturday's post!


Daley Ranch © Tiffany Monique
January 2014

"Yes dry souls do all of those things but why to they do those things?"

Fear I think, moves the beauty from a journey
Making it desolate
a dry soul wanders in the desolate plains
of cynicism and hurt and perhaps fear of being hurt again

Hurt I think, disables the soul from proper travel
Making it root
a dry soul unable to move to the waters of life
of forgiveness, of true rest, a perhaps hope of engaging joy

I was a dry soul once, afraid and hurt
Why did I do the things I did then?
Thank God someone brought me water
told me to forgive them and then
the harder work of forgive myself
releasing in the loving, painful pushes
every blood-lined wrinkle

And for my pain and work
my soul is not dead
my soul is not dry
I take every pain and joy with all their weight
and remember my dry days
so that I never - even when living in a desert
live the death that is life as a dry soul


With words, song & prayer,
TiMo
Here's where you can read me:
www.alwaysalreadyalright.blogspot.com 
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com
© Tiffany Monique
Montpelier, VT 2011

Saturday, May 31, 2014

dry souls

Welcome back! Here is this Saturday's post!


Daley Ranch © Tiffany Monique
January 2014

dry souls smell like dead dreams sometimes
raisins, yes, shriveled by time
scratchy when they pass you by
jealous of your wings

dry souls hunt for your living blood

but lack the energy to do any good
they just smell of rotted fruit
curious people things

dry souls sing with fetid mouths

moments, seconds, minutes, hours
they lie constantly of their powers
chanting hateful songs

dry souls lay in wait for weakness

misrepresenting those born to meekness
within a facade they claim eliteness
hiding plagues and seeds gone wrong

dry souls have claws in their commentary

vilifying those lives not sedentary
defining disease as those not ordinary
"normal" is their land

dry souls waste away parasitically

living off the living just to die inevitably
still they clamor with whispering
chorus of the damned


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


Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Compliments, Callings, & Michele

Before she passed in October 2011, my friend Michele told me, "at 35 you're gonna be a beast!" I post this in honor of her blessing me with her life and friendship (with an audio recording of this post at the end).

Had she read the post below, she would have nodded her head, and said "Whatchusay!" in her "and-that's-the-end-of-that-conversation" kinda way. Then we would have cracked up laughing about matriarchy and patriarchy and insecurity and strength, then debated marriage and prostitution. I miss her so. And I wonder what she'd have said to what my friend posted here:


Speaking of Michele and stereotypes... Here's a thought or two to ponder (via story)... this past Sunday I was taken to lunch by a friend from church, where I've been given the new nickname "Princess", which I found, at first, the biggest joke EVER.

Up until recently, whenever I heard the term "Princess", I knee-jerk stereotyped the idea of some scantily clad entitlement-junkie teenager acting spoiled, arrogant, self-absorbed and unkind. Now I am sure that there are moments when I embody all of these things (sometimes all at once, yeesh!), but now I am beginning to rethink this whole "princess" thing. My paradigm has to shift. It comes with age and wisdom. I called myself a goddess for years, based on the logic that I am a child of God, and so I must be some form of lower case goddess. It was to me, at its most basic premise, semantic argument, but I digress.

Why not be a princess? It would mean I am a role model (check), I have to follow certain "protocols" (check), I can't just do or say anything I want because the consequences are greater by nature of my position (working on it... grace is needed here), etc.

So... I am a princess, a ninja (with a sword), a part-time khaleesi... and these are titles I've come into within the last 30 days (if that). It is definitely something to consider. I wonder how Michele would see all this.
(c) 2013 Tiffany Monique -
"Yours Truly in Galleta Meadows feelin' all Khaleesi"
No I don't.

Michele would have loved it.  WHATCHUSAY!

With words, song & prayer,
TiMo
(Listen to the blog post here)

(c) 2011 Tiffany Monique
Yours Truly, Summertime in Vermont

Friday, June 7, 2013

Friday Poetry 6.7.13

Gonna keep it griot (as in... I recorded these)
My friends are all artists
My friends are all magic
My friends are all crazy
Or maybe it's just me

My friends are all strong
My friends are all loyal
My friends are all weirdos
Or maybe it's me

My friends are all humble
My friends are all honest
My friends are all outrageous
Or maybe it's me

My friends are all mine
My friends are all growing
My friends are all with me
Lucky lucky me

Would like to go on the record... I think that poem is the "perfect world friend poem", because there are times when my friends are not all of those things... but then, maybe it's just me. Part of me wonders if I should have put a line in there like, "my friends are all gangsta..."
(c) Tiffany Monique 2013
Naaaah... I'm a lover not a fighter.
(c) 2012 Tiffany Monique

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Dedicated to A Word With You Press

Last night I was having the time of my life-ish.

Without reading one word of my own; while simply being my normal outrageous self - I was said to be part of an axis of evil (in a "term of endearment" kinda way... I know, right?), and that I should have my own talk-show with my Tiffanyzed Dr. Phil flare called "Dinner at Tiffany's". I read two pages of a new author's coffee shop book that made me feel wonderfully emotive. I ate salad that made me flip out. I read Shakespeare, and gave literary responses to poetry from a beautifully-in-love Slovak woman that started the whole "Dinner at Tiffany's" commentary. I bucked up and asked to submit dual-expression to a larger audience, and wasn't rejected. I coveted a steampunk light-ray. I free-styled for a new friend to his "griot tracks", and I listened to two beautiful songs, the more beautiful one being about Frankenstein.
(c) 2000 Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust

It was a crazy four hours.

The reason I joined this group initially was to get out of my writing comfort zone.

I have admittedly grown to love this group of people (in a pretty initial, rather shallow way to be sure). We listen to or read each other's work and comment with constructive criticisms. We don't pull punches, but we aren't jerks (mostly). And when something is good, we say so, even as we offer opinions on how to tighten loose screws and oil gears that need it.

We are writers. We want to improve. Our group does all kinds of things, not the least of which includes Dime Stories submissions, A Word With You Press Writing Contests, and of course our Anti-Social Writers and Creative Misfits weekly writing club (the basic rules of which you are about to read -personal highlights in bold):
GATHER TIME: 615PM. ( The plan is to give folks time eat food and drink drinks, anti-socially chat a bit. AND THE REAL WORK STARTS PROMPTLY AT 7PM. )

-- EVERY GAME HAS RULES--SO PLAY NICE:

-We a convivial group & serious writers (many of us have been published in various forms). Please bring up to 5 pages each session of your novel, memoir, short story, screen play. And be prepared to listen closely and critique others' work, intelligently and respectfully.

-We do have fun and then clear the desks and work hard. Please come only if you are willing to both read and critique others' work.
-IT IS OK TO "JUST SHOW UP, MAGICALLY APPEAR!" But it is better to RSVP so others attending will know how many copies of their work to bring.
-READERS 'n RESPONDERS WELCOME! Those who love to write and have a story to tell will love this meetup! Come prepared to read your work (5 pages) and have the schmartest, most insightful, and useful responses to offer on your fellow writer's work. So if this sounds like you--come be our Hero! ;-)
-If you cannot make a meeting and have RSVP'd YES, please change your RSVP to NO, as there may be people on the Waiting List who can use your seat at the table!
-Please try to bring enough copies of your work for all members who have RSVP'd YES.
-You can submit as long a piece by email as you want. And those who receive it can read as much or as little as they want. But at the meeting, the number of pages each person can read is determined by the number of folks who show up, divided by available time, square by the orbit of Uranus, allowing for solar drag, of course.( We tend to average 5 typewritten double-spaced 12 pt Times New Roman pages per participant...)
Double-spaced, size twelve Times New Roman font on tap.
Image subject to copyright

I've heard some amazing stories, some beautiful poetry, and some offensive commentary. It's all in there. I wanted to take this moment to say THANK YOU to some of the people like Thorn, Russ, Ed, Kyle, Michele, Billy, Ronnie, Akesha, (the really tall poet guy who's name escapes me), etc. who reminded me that I write because...(that's another blog post). You guys inspire me to TELL THE STORY.

By definition, this post is breaking the rules. How funny would it be to read it at next week's session to hear that very thing?

I think I will. Stay tuned!


With words, song & love,
TiMo

By the way, I'm working on my Dual-Expression workshops (which started me on the path to even think about joining this group). Thorn Sully (oh captain my captain of A Word With You Press) and I are currently discussing how best to share our love of words and wordsmithing with the known world (and perhaps parts unknown...). Again I say, stay tuned.

Here's where you can read me: