poetry

autumn begins (with a recipe).

autumn begins

it’s an orange only october can explain

the roundness of everything is a beginning

and a beginning is hope.

love letters to begin the seasonal ministry,

the chorus bellows new hues of fat love from a clean slate

i sing to trust as the cold drops into a very familiar heat,

a temperature we have had every conversation with,

moist hugs, layered tank tops, the smell of sunscreen

hanging out on the hairline as I kiss you good night.

good-bye summer, 

hello fall.

falling in love with you all over again, believing in you for the first time,

each time, understanding yet another ochre yellow, deep grey green,

a brown that roots in deeper to a thought process hungering for the

slow down, 

finding me inside my peek a boo breath,

the vulnerability of varicose veins, 

meridians & school bus yellow lines

the road mapping out the direction to my dream.

oh and the fatness! the ok-ness of all the rotund love-

the acceptable obesity inside the celebration of a squash,

round, rind, bright & warm from its nap on the ground.

puy lentil soup with the last of the early girl tomatoes,

the turning on of everything inside –

all the lights, red, roasting the love, flesh down, skin up,

waiting for the heat to hit it’s number, I scan the wisdom list,

the to-do’s of my survival, my weekly vows of overwhelm and

imperfection, 

messy me and the birth & death of everything that

continues to happen, 

the blood of it all.

hoping for some energy in the gas, more time in the fuel and all the

dreams of heroes, 

the freedom they exude, their firm triceps & hip

flexibility- 

the stories in my hips are hiding tight like cross stitch

poetry, 

the answers 

come with tears. 

dying for love? possibly.

how can we really know anything?

the years continue to ground me in knowing less,

finding my way below the neck,

not thinking about anything,

feeling everything.

autumn begins: breasts to feed all of us inside kombochas,

pumpkins, butternuts, all the nourishing shapes we may

remember as warm love in our story somewhere.

a beginning is important to keep going,

it’s vital for survival & it’s happening now. 

ROASTING SQUASH

turn oven on 400 convection* bake

place squash on casserole dish

(big enough for 2 halves of your squash)

pour oil all over squash

(2 second pour)

you can also massage it with the oil

put in the oven for 20 minutes

take out after 20 minutes & cut in half

(should be soft to cut into)

then place squash flesh down//skin up

put in for another 20 minutes

(you do

not

need to add any more oil here)

fork it to see if it's ready to your liking

texture, hardness, softness etc..

i usually keep seeds in as they add to flavor

you can scoop out after and toast

them with the last bit of heat in the oven

(*if you have convection//no worries if not)

you can leave this out on the stove top

with a beauty linen on top to cover it

in it's dish for warming later or noshing

as you go about your day!

you can mash it with earth balance or butter,

just serve as is, you can also put it in the

base

of a soup

creating another beauty love fest

enjoy beautiesxxxx

FALL MIRACLE

SIGN UP 

HERE!

allow.

allow

allow

allow

the teacher said

i inhaled & i exhaled

i laid there with my body yoga'd

allow

allow

allow

i want to share

i want to allow

on my first day of 38, 83, 830

allowing the beauty

my birthed body

my belly skin hangs like a drape

my wrists that can hardly hold me up

my swollen knee

alllllloooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwww

that's all i can hear now

i might need you to repeat it for me

my incision is a bit lopsided

my marriage too

cutting & pasting

 a new priority list

collaging my way

sketching a map

dusting off a compass

turning my ear to the ground

cold, damp, essential

the recipe calls for

gently folding

the egg white 

of myself

into an old 

doughy story 

trusting the stainless steel bowl

turning under and over and

waiting for it to take

allowing for all of it

xxxx

birthday post//part 1//everything.

i found this old wish on my walk this morning

i am wondering if it has come true yet

are they still working on it?

making room for it

trying to make it work

within their lifestyle

every time i blow out a candle

i make a wish

usually about health or abundance

i wonder where it goes

what it takes to birth it

you know, make it happen

i want everything

i remember my everything when i

make a left off the 110

move the wet into the dry

soak the egg pan

draw the kids bath

and now, when i finally sit down with you

it's not as easy to remember

i want to feel happy all the time

i want to have a daily nap

& when i start to nap a little

i am probably going to want to nap some more

i want my body to feel better

i want to be friends

i want to eat dinner out

i want to go to the movies

i want to be alone

i want to go on vacation

i want to buy things, like shoes, good quality t-shirts,

blouses, dresses 

oh and some sandals too

i want a life long membership to empathy

another one for massages, facials and all the up keep

i want a trip, every 3 months,

to check in with me,

meet my husband again

check in with our marriage

our values, our parenting, 

our world that we are creating together

i want to soak inside my voice

sponge bath my way to me

float on the emotional support

that i am so hungry for

where do i ache

what needs to be filled up

the granola in the french terrine

the breast fed breasts

the tears that have been waiting in a single filed line

the wishes

the pink candles

the mourning for days of rest, days for another life perhaps

the gratitude, the blessings of this life

the fragile wrists, fingers, knees & toes

the truth inside who i am, who i want be,

what's growing inside me

my posture & my smile

i don't mean to hurt anyone

i also do a lot of dishes, laundry, toy pick up & feeding the dog

birthdays are an opportunity to go inside

draw the shades & 

see what is glowing in the dark

what do i need to change, shift, pay more attention to

the conversation is

 a poem of intentions, values, 

morals

where do i stand today and where am i headed tomorrow

i don't know how to do anything without a ritual, 

a swatch

of depth, some warm quinoa, sauteed kale & 

some flax seed oil

i want to prepare better for death

i want my body to feel stronger

i want to feel flexible, lucid, flowing

i want yoga

i want to sit criss cross apple sauce with my kids

i want to do a push up

i want to experience fearlessness

i want to have sex with my husband

i want sex to be easy, normal, no big deal

i want to make food for sick kids 

i want people to know about the need for beauty

i want to have all the money i need all the time

i want to swim in a warm ocean

i want to give money to those who need it

i want to travel

i want to show my children the world

i want to learn from other cultures

i want to experience more intimacy in everyday moments

i want to be a better parent

i want to stop myself before i lose it

i want to heal all the wounds

i want to trust you

i want to stop wanting so much

i want to hear your everything

xxxx

our hunger.

the price of admission 

is a seedling in the moist 

all knowing land 

it's the wisdom below our barefeet 

protected by 

so many 

things; rubbers, plastics

anything to keep us from our 

intimate worth - 

the price of knowing the truth 

having the patience 

with heart and mind 

instead of the extreme dance

the marathon of words

the anxious running we do 

all 

day 

inside our skin

little parts, all our parts

running 

naked down every single meridian 

h

ighways full of our knowing 

our wanting 

our intimacy

our hunger

soil beds to lay on 

to steep our 

soaked 

full of stress 

bodies 

our tea bag selves 

dying

to be strained 

pinched 

and 

seen 

in that last concentrated drop

(part of a prompt 'price of admission')

MIRACLE 

ONE WEEK 

FROM TODAY

GATHER in my kitchen

FEED ON spring 

BE inspired

PINCH yourself

MORE here

XXXX

one world soup.

poem of one world

this morning

the beautiful white heron 

was floating along above the water

and then into the sky of this

the one world

we all belong to

where everything 

sooner or later 

is a part of everything else

which thought made me feel 

for a little while

quite beautiful myself

-mary oliver/

a thousand mornings

my wonderful writing teacher says you need to read 

poetry out loud to really hear it, understand it, feel it 

this one is worth your voice

for the last 2 weeks my family and i have been 

traveling the terrain of our immunity; 

pot holes, 

mud slides, hard times with the flu 

sore throats, 

head colds, fevers, a killer cough

wow 

i know it's the farthest thing from 

beautiful

to feel our bodies ache, heat up and

try to process this world

then i read this poem and i thought

we all do this

we all get down 

& we fight this flu

these colds 

we all have to stop 

we all have to allow 

our bodies to get well 

there is a one world beauty in that to me

so here is my one world  soup

for you or a friend who might need 

this hot love remedy asap

one world soup

*gather*

1 onion chopped

2 repunzel herb bullion

2-3 garlic cloves

tons of herbs 

(whatever you got)

parsley, dill, cilantro, thyme

chopped or cut into pot

3+ carrots chopped

3 celery stalks chopped

3+ asparagus

6 - 8 cups of water

lemon if desired

*rock it*

pour 2 wrist rounds 

of olive oil

into soup pot

on medium 

put onions in 

crumble bullion in

add garlic

add herbs

let it all steep &

get to know each other

soften & glaze

add veggies

stir around

add water 

bring to a boil

lid on & low

*love it*

may need

salt or bullion

add lemon if want 

can strain for broth too

love yourself thru this

we are all in this together

stay well beauties

xxxx

parsnips & prose.

in my own private heart 

there is a heart shaped door

it's actually a cookie cutter and the handle 

is in the middle like a cookie cutter

and i am inside

you can see me through the heart  

i'm in my red striped apron with a wooden spatula

i'm singing like beyonce - no- 

i'm singing like barbara streisand - no - 

i'm alicia keyes 

and i'm singing the new york song

i am roasting parsnips with garam masala 

and the tree house smells divine

i look down 

and i see that i have paws for feet

and i realize that i might be in a beatrix potter book 

so 

before i blink twice 

i want to bathe in this simplicity

i want to walk on my paws 

and pet my hairy self

i feel my face and finally 

i feel those whiskers i knew i was made of

i mean the leo thing everyone has always talked about

and my hair 

is finally standing up like the afro 

i have always wanted 

with no hair goop

i have the longest eye lashes 

my eye ball sockets are so much bigger than before

i look around my kitchen and everything is 

copper & wood

i have huge copper pots that make me salivate as a human

they hang from scalamandre fabric 

from the branch on my ceiling

it's really wonderful in here

it's grounded and feels like life

i mean the one you read about

the one life that fits so efficiently (like copper)

in my fantasy ball, just feels so 

good

warm

connected like abundance

with no guilt or heaviness

feels cozy like all the cashmere and its simple

did i say that already? 

i look at my hands, 

they are paws too

and nothing is inflamed

every finger is happy 

whistling while they work happy

that happy feeling people have told me is

lazy

unimportant

not doing anything in the world

that is not what's happening 

in my tree

in my kitchen

in my copper pots

feels like homeschooling and fabric napkins

the on-going fireplace

music you love

books you finish

it feels like time is 

normal here

i am happy as a lion in my kitchen

no worries about low oil in the car 

or 

the million dollars of debt

that doesn't exist here

there is no room for it

it's actually foreign

it's the language of aliens 

to this jungle 

and that could be genius for me

along with those parsnip fries

*15 minute genius exercise from my writing class*

parsnip fries

*gather*

olive oil

garam masala

cinnamon

(add more spices if desire)

good coarse salt

parsnips

big bowl

wood board

good knife

baking sheet

oven on 375 - 400 bake

*rock it*

peel parsnips

cut them like fries

2 - 3 wrist pours of olive oil

some dashes of spices

in your big bowl

massage the parsnips

love love love

add some salt

you can use casserole dish

or baking sheet with parchment paper

throw them on the sheet

put in oven for 20 - 30 minutes

if you feel that they are not crisp enough

you can broil them for a few minutes

do not leave them or they will burn

also - check in on them every 10 minutes

move them around

give them a chance 

to meet everyone on 

the baking sheet

eat and enjoy  

out of the oven

big love beauties

xxxx

dear america.


dear america, 

i'm nervous to be writing you as i have so many things to ask, to bullet point, to list, to understand. i am so confused by you. but first, how are you america? how are you feeling? 'oh, yes, i understand that deep exhaustion...oh, rape? oh, i am so sorry to hear it, to see it, to smell it, to live inside so much of your rape.'

i am so sad for you, for us, for everybody. does anyone else know about it? dear america, where are your gentle parts? are there any left? is there anything left of you? i miss a piece of you, many of you, all of you, that i never met before. you are gorgeous in so many places and i have hope for you. maybe that's what keeps you going? everybody's hope? is it working? 

is there enough light to keep you alive? are the wounds sutured? did you get staples? where does stainless steel come from? is it all ok in your skin? dear america, dear america, dear sweet, needle-point pillow with a smoking cabin on it america. can we weave a new quilt with a new mission for you america?

 can we believe in the real things and not kill so much? can we live in an honest, core based truth, where we unfold our bodies like Rilke and listen to what we need? can we trust you again america? 

are you still there? 

you are so young and so sick, too early in your life. what can i do to help america? my heart is oozing out to you with these words. where to begin? how to ask you about all the things that don't make any sense... how are you handling all of our garbage? is our recycling being exported to china on huge barges? what should we do to change it all? 

how can i help america? can i get you a green tea with a three minute egg? it's a really good start. dearest anerica, are you hungry? please, come into my kitchen, allow me the honor, the vital tincture of today is about feeding you. let me roast a butternut squash and puree some mint with zucchini and sweet onion. 

oh and lets warm the ground. lets plant some seeds together and renew our vows america. i would love that...would you dear america? let me tie my apron around you so that you can feel centered in this story. let me put a lavender warmer around your head like a crown. 

let me share (with you) what continues to save my life: look at this cake plate, this deep wood bowl, this deep green cavolo nero kale, this red vained baby chard.....hold on to this persimmon. let it change your life, america. she was grown here. she loves you, we love you. please, enjoy this warm love, digest it and maybe you will feel better. 

i think i feel better. 
do you? 
america? 

-jbdxxxx

if the world was crazy.

If the world was crazy, you know what I'd eat?
A big slice of soup and a whole quart of meat,
A lemonade sandwich, and then I might try
Some roasted ice cream or a bicycle pie,
A nice notebook salad, an underwear roast,
An omelet of hats and some crisp cardboard toast,
A thick malted milk made from pencils and daisies,
And that's what I'd eat if the world was crazy.

If the world was crazy, you know what I'd wear?
A chocolate suit and a tie of eclair,
Some marshmallow earmuffs, some licorice shoes,
And I'd read a paper of peppermint news.
I'd call the boys "Suzy" and I'd call the girls "Harry,"
I'd talk through my ears, and I always would carry
A paper umbrella for when it grew hazy
To keep in the rain, if the world was crazy.

If the world was crazy, you know what I'd do?
I'd walk on the ocean and swim in my shoe,
I'd fly through the ground and I'd skip through the air,
I'd run down the bathtub and bathe on the stair.
When I met somebody I'd say, "G'bye, Joe,"
And when I was leaving--then I'd say "Hello."
And the greatest of men would be silly and lazy
So I would be king (queen)...if the world was crazy.

by the amazing shel silverstein

here are some wonderful words to bring us into the weekend...this is how my world feels right now and yes, i want to try roasting ice cream. that sounds divine. see you in the kitchen amazing onesxxxx