59. SPECIAL FEATURE: Poetry by Jordan Lawson

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Editor’s Note: Take a galactic detour for a moment, from the splendidly staccato bursts of scifaiku found throughout this literary journal, to partake of Jordan’s unique brand of magical spiritualism, fantasy and science fiction in the longer poems that follow. When I learned that Jordan has opened for one of my all-time favorite bands, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and another favorite from my Seattle days, Pearl Jam, along with his professional acting and his writing endeavors, I realized that I was working with quite a talent here, a Renaissance man — or, as I prefer, a Universal Man (Uomo Universale in Italian, the language of the country in which the concept and the term originated and yes, let us update “man” to “person”).

Enjoy this very special poetry feature!

Sacred Desires

To learn from the Great Grandfather of the universe while surrounded by candlestick prospects in the stars

To audit an eternal celestial cosmic chess club game in the Horologium Supercluster

To ride the advanced sport model sphere through Coma, Sloan, and Sculptor Walls into Pavo-Indus

To share knowledge and experience with other enlightened mere mortals

To become a part of the Pinwheel Hierarch and Order of the Omega Centauri

To glide into that which is my own parsec destiny

To transcend all that is tangible and find shelter within love’s Sunflower Galaxy

To be where there are more than four seasons, where the light always shines, and the young never grow old

Peter’s Mortar

Though, there may be many of us in number, there is an unknown existence where true magic comes to fruition for a scarce selection

Moments of realization that reveal bright and shining keys to invaluable wisdom are shared from divinity’s flawless blueprint

Right now, many of them are in full visual display, and helping those lucky few along the way towards true vindication

Therefore, practice infancy and intentional naivete while among the shadows, and your highest self that is the eternal soul will ultimately be led down the bank of a never-ending tomorrow

Circling around a lighted clearing that shines through what is a dense and scattered forest of echoes

Catacomb Airwaves

Leading me by the hand with irresistible grandiosity while clinging to narrow and winding stone hallways of chandeliers

Past the flush and illuminated paths by candlelight under the surface streets through Catacomb airwaves

Hinting to my nasal palate the saliently lingering ancient scents of long-lost communion

Reaching restoration at mile three with a hint of a Jean Marat type presence while slowly filing up the arc rooms prior to melodic obligations

Bringing about an exuberance that could vaguely be heard by an unaware passerby above the mystic hidden network

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