sometimes we spin

there is no pushing away,
no abandonment,

sometimes we pull our lovers close

sometimes we spin them
across the room

there are no absolutes,
though we may scramble for static
and pray for a statued savior,
stowed away in musty books

I am planting the seeds of our freedom
I am unfolding into the negative space
to welcome in positive change


Your roots within me

These mountains were calling me
before I ever knew their name.

I sat with my sister in the moonlight,
body a-buzz with herb and wine,
unfolding the breath from deep
within our bellies, like origami butterflies.

I felt wisps of spiderweb entangle me,
my bare feet on the earth, high hopes
mingling with the intentions of the angels.

We felt it then.

Dangling our limbs
over the precipice of What Is,
the backwards ripples of
reality tickling our toes,
nibbling away inhibitions.

Sister, you taught me then
how to commune
with the elder trees, with the
forest fairies.

When to dance
and drink blueberry wine,
when to pray and when
to surrender
our expectations of the future.

I felt these mountains, then,
moving me,

and the growing pains
of continental shift,
bodies drifting in
melding harmonies.

Sister, still we meet in dreams.
Weaving the web embedded
in our fingers like muscle memory.

And while we sit surrounded
by separate mountains,
I feel your roots within me.




I split my belly open.

I split my belly open –
gutted it

like a fisherman
would a fish,

in the name of
livelihood & subsistence,

a biology student,
in the midst

of curiosity-driven
dissection and a surrender

to the ease of
the academically expected.

Yes, viscera spilled.
And with them, little

bits of plastic,
a sac of eggs, repulsive
and delicate, and the

unsettling feeling
of disconnection.


Spun Gold

Turn your spun gold
into spiderwebs.
Leave them out and see
what you catch.

Get out your newspaper & spy glass to
Burn the bodies in the basement.
It’s no use
Trying to
Force life into the dead;
They may yet
Feel your breath
Ripple their shadowed limbs
like moonlight on the sea

If you find yourself sifting
through ember and ashes,
Desperate for a emblem
of the history you singed,
Sing the song of remembrance
Your grandmothers gave you,
Resurrect the sleeping ancestors
Tucked beneath your skin.

Pluck your prey
from sticky strands
the color of some
sunlit straw

and release them
into morning,
to the unfolding
of the dawn.



The beginning to this one popped into my head the other day, melody and all. The creative process is pretty damn interesting.

tripwire triptych


Yes, my neuroses sometimes
arrange themselves around me
like tripwire.

Other days I unravel them
like spools of yarn,
and trace them back to the
center of myself.


If you listen closely

a Minoan princess

may slit the labyrinth open

from tip of head

to toe


I slither on my belly,

shedding bones,

shedding skin,

stockpiling parts

with which to create

an exoskeleton


On the Third Day

On the third day,
she rose again

emerging from a nest
of poetry scraps and shiny,
metal objects.

I awoke in the underworld,
limbless, stripped of armor
and all defenses.

Genuflected before
the reflection of my

Wept for the deaths
of every skin cell
I slough off, unknowingly.


My face pressed
to cloth,
lipstickless kiss to
the holy shroud, my pillowcase –
in dreams I leave
my legacy.

They asked so sweetly,
for an autograph,
then clawed
for a strand of hair,
attempted coercion for fingerprints,
dumpster dove for toenail clippings
& other remnants
of my former selves.

If you look in the tomb,
you will not find me.
There is no enclosed
sleeping beauty, waiting
to be kissed.

Despite the static,
I hear her coming through,
projections of a voice
through the telephone wires
in synaptic dance.

In the midst
of the unraveling,
you may find yourself
humming little songs
of intentional regeneration.

You may find that you are always finding
a new way of being.




Hey, friends! Here we go. NaPoWriMo 2014. I’ve been scribbling in my journal the past two days, but I’m planning to get all caught up and get ’em up here today. Here’s to continuing on even when you feel like you’re scraping at the bottom of the barrel.




Hey, all!

So, this morning I woke up to this outside my window:


March, you are such a tease. But honestly, I love a good tease. This is all a part of spring’s grand seduction scheme. She knows how to create an air of anticipation. She knows she’s got us holding our breath, on the edge of our seats, waiting for the curtain to open, desperate to catch a glimpse. Hmmm sounds familiar. (Yes, the title of this entry is a punny play on “striptease”. I know I’m classy, no need to tell me so.)

Today was a special Monday because I happen to have the day off. I could enjoy the wild winter by staying inside. I honestly love being able to keep in tune with the cycles and seasons and all systems were not go today and I had the luxury of being able to observe it. I’m grateful! I knew it’d be a day to make food, read, write, drink tea, whatever I fancied. Today I listened to Trio II songs on youtube, sang along, and created some seriously tasty dishes.

Like I mentioned inmy last entry, I recently kept a food journal and noticed what made my body feel great and what didn’t. The food journal wasn’t about cutting anything out, or adding anything into my diet. It was observing what I normally do and eat, and how it affects me. Now that I’ve come away with some clearer ideas on what my body needs from me, I’m stepping it up a bit. And I’m having so much fun.


I made a big ol’ pot of vegetable quinoa stew, inspired by the lovely “Me-me” Sowder. This had every kind of vegetable imaginable: carrots, celery, onion, garlic, green beans, sweet potatoes, kale, cauliflower, corn, broccoli, tomatoes, and daikon radishes (some of these veggies were leftovers from last night’s dinner which you can view here). Whew! Added some quinoa & seasoned with good ol’ salt and pepper, bay leaves, thyme, rosemary and basil.

Above the bowl are some cucumber slices topped with this awesome flaked almond salad — I yoinked that recipe from this Oh She Glows post.

For dinner I noshed on some more of the above but made this whole foods, vegan mousse the main event:


Um, yum, right? Avocado, banana, strawberries, chia seeds, coconut milk (though it was honestly mostly coconut cream), cinnamon, vanilla, cocoa powder, a splash of bourbon, and some coconut flakes & sunflower seeds (I thought of the seeds post-picture taking) on top.

All of these recipes are vegan. In my last entry, I wrote a little bit about coming to that place. I have no rules for myself, no impositions. It’s simply naturally where I’m gravitating when I prepare my own food. Ironically enough, I recently made whey, cream cheese and yogurt for the first time. I was giving dairy another go round to see where I was at — and I turned into a big congested mess. I love yogurt, but after eating it for about a week, I had to admit it wasn’t quite working out how I’d planned. I got congested, my head felt heavy and foggy, and I was developing a cold. Not worth it!

But how grateful am I that I followed my desire to try it?

So grateful!

Why? Well, because I was really listening this time. When I got this cold that just wouldn’t shake (and I rarely get sick! so when I do it’s very noticeable to me) I knew I needed to reduce / eliminate my dairy intake to help me get over it. It gave me that nudge to take things a little bit further. Since I’ve begun embracing this, I followed my body’s desire to buy some amazing produce, and I’m on a little bit of a food high right now.

I am taking steps to support myself and my health. I know that there will be days when I wish I could just take a pill instead of create a loving meal for myself. I know that this excitement I am feeling right now will not last forever. And yet, that in no way diminishes the appreciation I have for this moment in time. It honestly makes me delve more deeply into that appreciation. It’s a feeling that’s entirely linked to the name of this blog,              The Root of the Root. I named it that because I want to approach everything as much as I can from that rooted place, understanding it takes a while for those roots to settle and grow, but when they’re firmly planted, it’s so profound. It’s not about ego or appearances or anything of the purely surface level focus, it’s about a natural unfolding. And we can only inhabit that natural unfolding in each of our own, individual, due times. A bit like this spring, eh?

And so with that, I’m off to bed. Stay cozy, folks!

Join me next time when I discuss face yoga. (Yep. Face yoga. I know. I’m ridiculous. But in an awesome way, right? You know, I really like parentheses. It makes me feel it’s an editing-free zone. Well, this is really dragging on. Cutting myself off now…goodnight!)