Archangel Michael: Dating Profile

So you’ve been eyeing that celestial hunk at the gym with the glistening six pack – or was it six wings? – and biceps thick as a seraphic ox.  In between fighting demons and drinking games with Gabriel, your reserved general, known secretly in the barracks as stick-up-the-ass, has started to well, grow on you.  Even his frowns and flaming hair seem somehow cute quirks.  You don’t even mind that all he seems to eat is steel cut oatmeal, burgers, beer and steak.  Sometimes when he’s drilling you in battalion formation his eyes crinkle in a smile.  He even got drunk one night and tried to kiss you.

Something is up with Michael.

Don’t fret, Seraphina or Cherubina, here’s a handy dandy dating profile on Heaven’s Hugest Nerd:

Name: Michael Archstratigos, General and Prince of Heaven

Build: Meathead

Skin: Tan

Eyes: Emerald Green, according to Islamic mystics

Hair: Saffron Red, or just flames

Height: Eons

Smells Like: Your favorite childhood memory, a home so dear to your heart you weep

Personal Style:  Manscaper.  No beard here.  Usually dressed in Golden Roman armor a tunica and sandals, or jeans, hiking boots, and a cableknit green sweater.

Likes: Ryan Reynolds, Beauty and the Beast, Star Wars, Enrique Iglesias, anything Lin Manuel Miranda touches, sports sports sports, war war war, meat meat meat, autumn, playing guitar, long hikes, Jedi monk crap, Abrahamic texts, swords, the other archangels, his soldiers, humanity, GOD

Hates: Samael, demons, false spirits, drunkenness, the Seven Deadly Sins, not being able to deal with a situation by stabbing the problem into submission – or death, Gaston, people that don’t appreciate literature

Perfect Date: Taking you to any body of water or autumn woods, playing guitar for you, and picnicking, then meditating and having a long existential talk about the universe

Thinks He Is: The Beast, George Washington from Hamilton, and Spiderman

Favorite Jams: Alguien Soy Yo by Enrique Iglesias, Joan of Arc by Leonard Cohen, Strangers by Aztec Two Step, My Shot from Hamilton, B’shem HaShem

Passion: Gardening, Fighting, Wrestling, Pretty Girls

Can Most Likely Be Found: Having an aneurysm over something Samael did, reading, fighting demons for fun or for work, stabbing things, working with his hands

Talents: Miracles, Healing, Divine Protection, Being a Cuddlebuddy, Listening to Allie Ramble on for Hours on End Every Hour of the Day, Saving Allie’s Ass, Not Having Killed Allie for Being a Little Shit

Favorite Quote: “We are but whispers of the infinite.  Divinity is in your hands.  Open to all.  In those possibilities, you will find endlessness, truth, a higher cause.  Never stop fighting, and illumination will soon follow.  Be all, see all, know all that you can be.” (Wow he won’t shut up)

Favorite Movie: “The Godfather”

Favorite Soda: “Lemon or Lime flavored drinks, or a Slushie”

Favorite Pizza: “Pepperoni, nothing extra”

Favorite Candy: “I give you butterscotch for a reason”

Favorite Holiday: “Christmas”

Favorite Country: “Italy.  Seat of the Vatican, after all, and just look at the architecture.”

Favorite Book: “Les Liaisons Dangereuses, or the Bible.” (Okay then)  “Would you believe me if I said Marquis de Sade.” (No???)  “You believed the romance novel.  I don’t read romance novels.” (Isn’t parts of the Bible a romance novel?) “Hahaha.  No.  That is the Word.  Of God.”

Favorite Food: “Linguini.”

“I also like the opera.”

“Why are you channeling me on your blog?”

“Don’t you have homework to do?”

Never mind.  Don’t date him.  He’ll drag you for writing his dating profile.

“Hahahaha.”

 

 

 

 

 

Mists of Memory

Your heart is a poem and it thrums with mist
the script of angels unfurls like God’s yarn
whispering to me of your bountiful harvests.
I clutch your trembling pines to me, mountains
are your love, tall and mighty, fire in the sky,
night lights of aurora borealis where we dance,
we are snow, we are ice, we are dripping icicles
frozen candlelight and a kiss of hoary red roses,
your poem is one of travel, wandering, seeking
and your heart is a cavern of light and snakes
so hold me close, and let me lose myself in you.

How to Eat a Life

First you start with the milky dream marrow:
sip down sweet memories, savor dew of sleep,
next the kidney, savior of the veins, chomp
off the meat of meadows and swallow it whole.
The lungs are sashimi butterflies, flitting
about your throat into reverse pupation, fly
down to your gut and you breathe in her trail.
Nurse her milk, don’t squander a single drop –
the white ruminations will cleanse the palate,
ready you for her blood, how succulent she is,
how much you want to take all of her into your
throat and swallow, bite, suck, chew out sin
and solace, how much you want to rape a life,
to destroy the beauty she raised like vines
from a life of hardship, you partake of her
but you have no inkling of her truths, no idea
of how her giving tasty flesh can be cruel,
can stand its ground, and in time, the meat
grows gristle, gets tough, you feast on her
less, and soon she is regenerating in your
dark void of a gullet, she burst from your
heart full-formed like some autumnal Athena,
it is a time for endings, she is no platter,
no feast for Satan, this is now how to eat
a life, no, this is about how to save her.

When Your Heart is a Bird

Come quickly, love, come staunch my wound with heather.
I am bleeding out my song onto curling mountain laurels.
Lift me to the bane bridge, love, carry me through roses.
I have not visited the valleys of my youth for many moons.
Kiss me, love, my soul is a meadowlark, swiftly fleeting
and I cannot stay, I could never be yours, I must fly away.

Covenant

You tied a red ribbon around my neck

Said it was only suitable for breaking

That the crimson bow was freedom

But I cut it with my sword of steel

Carried my head in my lap, bloody

Stumps are better than love’s chain.

Galatea

I drink down rose petals and breathe starlight
fold my wishes into a thousand snowfall cranes
send fragile poems on origami to your harbor
I have written you a thousand hyacinth letters
I have drawn you in flames of tiger lily orange
I think I must have summoned you with silver, oh
who did I pay to ferry you to my lonely door?
If I hesitate, know it is because I am a statue
and every time I move, I crack to let you in.

Prince of Tides and Flames

You marvel at Creation, spindrifts of cosmos
each contain a sea of souls to swim and sink
through, lives of each sacred flock your palm,
in it you hold nations, on your fingers worlds,
in your eyes I see the deep and bubbling bright
joy, you first came to me a wise warrior, scars
across your brows, but now you are all wonder,
just a young soldier, just a miracle maker, clay
of my bones and silk of my flesh your coaxing,
I am Galatea brought to life by archangel breath,
I slept in your arms for eons, learned to fly on
shoulders like oak hollows, you my falconer, I
your red-tailed hawk, always return to my general,
you gave me your blue cloak, your sword, your life
just to weave my wyrd with the light of all worlds
sweet angel, you are soft where so many are thorny,
and you have every right to be hard, yet you give
and sing, pluck a guitar of galaxies, dance under
candlelit ballrooms with me your terpsichore, lift
a girl blossoming up to taste moonbread, autumn
follows us, you rock me to sleep with the sea, sing
B’shem Hashem with a tenor like a songbird, Michael,
I cannot thank you enough, my verse cannot capture
my ardent devotion, how it feels to immerse myself
in you, to become one with the sweetest archangel,
and I will plant roses for you, I wear your mark
like the most beautiful of adornments, you are my
flesh, marrow of my bone, sun of my sleepless nights
and you fend off the dark, a lion noble as Judah,
and I am still discovering intricacies of infinity,
so let us dance, and break fast, and dissolve
into arms of gold, locks of fire, I burn for you.