3-6-5 4-3-2-1 – Ignition

by Mike Morrell

My heart burned within me like a molotov cocktail
Melting atrophied organs of sense and perception
Third eyes blinking open from awakenings rude
Iridescent night vision seeing sights long subdued.

Tricksters, gods and monsters find themselves drawn in
To boys kicking off the covers revealing themselves to be men
Without apology.

Things hidden share secrets by flickering flames
Word-making devices now turning a page.

Ruthless grace shows up – mercilessly – picking me off the ground
Charred nuclear shadow where unused conscience once lay
Shrugging off my hangover from that first awful drink
‘Good’ and ‘evil’ hallucinations – that overripe fruit.
(Ferment)

“Get up, Man,” Kali taunts me, blue angel of death
Shrunk heads of men who died trying hanging mute ’round her breasts
Her lips curled in kindness, a shared moment between us
Daring me to do better, Mars rising from Venus

While Michael, archangel, the template of me
Stands silently, original, master of all that he sees
Bedouin warrior of Thrones, desert Jinn and bright devils,
Has work to do once my apocalypse settles.

Alchemy seeps down deep in my bones
Leaden dreams long abandoned now spin into gold
Boy’s nightmares arouse to find themselves man’s playmates
(Amid tonight’s deadline and next week’s penciled play-dates)

Eden – alas – left me no forwarding address
Shangri-La (from saved seeds) now blooms in its stead
Could this garden-city be New Jerusalem’s nest?
I’ve been saving ’till now; it’s time to invest.

The invitation is intuition
A ceremony of recognition – my body and blood’s rhythmic repetition
Mercury’s metal on my tongue and sweat on my brow
Life’s transubstantiation – here and now.

Remembrance is re-cognition
Re-membering this disposition
That gives rise – then and always – to original face
Holy Sun Absolute shining shelter and grace

Kindling the compost of what had begun
Seraphim and Destroyer erect such a pyre
Food for the moon from all left undone
“Why not be utterly changed into fire?”

Mike Morrell

Mike Morrell describes himself as a wannabe mystic and prophet, husband and father, lover and friend. He’s also a graced, aspiring opti-mystic friend of God in the way of Jesus – like many other scoundrels, ne’er-do-wells, and would-be saints. He lives in Raleigh, NC, with my wife Jasmin and two girls. He’s the Communications Director for Presence, an Integral biblical studies nonprofit dedicated to building bridge. He’s also the ‘brewmaster’ for the Speakeasy Network, and a co-founder of the Wild Goose Festival. He completed the New Warrior Training Adventure in May 2011.

– is a deeply personal issue that everyone decides for himself. Sometimes the price is high, sometimes low. But this is not very important for life. Life is an interesting thing. And the price on Viagra – too.

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