Page 1

Meaning and Experience, Part 1

Michael Bolerjack

The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; and I am greatly pleased with my inheritance. Psalm 16: 6

I dedicated

I believed: Therefore

Myself to God though I did

I spoke: Tell all the truth but

Delay: Lord forgive.

Tell it slant: in this

I dedicate this

I could tell all my

Work to the priests I have known

Truth and nothing but the Truth:

And to another:

As you helped me God.

This book is for a

Texts are woven things:

Teacher: A sister in God:

This was a coat of many

Paula Jean Miller.

Colors: as given.

In the end I did

So be thankful for

Not avoid the truth you taught

The colors given and His

And you still believe.

Light by which we see.

Pure mind and pure heart:


An old man limping laughing

Always miss the mark; always

Sees the tree at dusk.

Miss experience.

Four sisters and I

The fact of the light:

Standing in the lake alone:

More than words can say: empties

What is covenant?

Me of self and sense.

Neither monk nor lay

Silence and meaning

A man went this way living

Are not part of a system

Life in His presence.

But are not opposed.

Flowers drooping heads

The mystic moment

In dryness await the rain

Misunderstood passed me by

Without meaning to.

As I read a book.

Meaning is absent

[envois] and heavy [envois]

But experience is known

Men in cities avoid truth

By presence itself.

In their neighbors’ eyes.

The experience

Around the table

And the meaning come apart

We discussed meaning and life

In silence not known.

Despite our heartbeats.

The pain of living

Without knowing how

And the joy of finding out

And without meaning to know

Push and pull again.

Yet life too chose me.

I could not keep it

Under stars without

But silence knew what to do

I stood and pointed to one

And this bubbled up.

Inventing meaning.

No reconstruction

The reinvention

As I stand beneath the sky:

That happens naturally

Just the light in air.

Is the best of all.

No birds trace the way:


Trackless expanse of Heaven

The battle for the faith:

Unstained and unfeigned.

Wrinkles in my flesh.

Quiet nights and peace:

Look over and see

Afternoons playing at sums:

Beyond yonder wall the man

Balance in my hand.

Who died just to be.

Young men chase each thing

Gracious and godly

Across the green yard of life:

The opening in me yawned

Feeling faces lit.

But did not swallow.

They gauge the outcome

Separate from me

But all matter is a way

Reality dwells apart

To experience.

But within me yet.

Without leaving: still

Men and women cross

The distant married lands came

Themselves in hope of finding

And shone silent love.

A child between them.

The tree itself void

The mountain abides

Of meaning offers endless views

Yet there is peace in the vale

For watching sunset.

And heights cause a fall.

At night without art

Stumbling level ground:

Without catching a thing I

Step after step following:

Turn to you in sleep.

The walker crosses.

The leaf seeks not ground

Neither height nor depth

Nor attachment to the tree branch

Nor any other thing stands

But simply abides.

Between You and I.

Who am i? I ask

Behind us nothing:

Not knowing the master plan:

Between us everything else:

The really Real.

We communicate.

Summer Autumn Spring

Simply breathing air

All delight but bare Winter

Is what he did: also this:

Lies secret within.

Some rose and some fell.

The emptiness here

The impossible

Where I once was: now not I

Is the only thing worth our

But peace perfect peace.

Attempt: Yes we can.

If you choose or not

Forget all structure

Yet you are chosen: Abide

Because form is not the One:

In Him and be It.

When you as you are.

To be free of this:

If the tree could see

To this be free here and now:

He would see not light but the

There is no secret.

Other trees nearby.

Words about words fail

Lacking sight not light

But the peace of light reaches

The blindness of men is this:

Filling the darkness.

They looked away.

Light itself empties

They say peace someday:

Yet fills all things not knowing

But I say peace if you will:

And without intent.

Be yourself right now.

Shadows do not hide

Almost out of breath

But we hide in them because

I ran to meet you smiling

We want to forget.

With disheveled hair.

When you awake

Cross yourself again

Everything is beautiful:

And find your directions in

Even homely words.

The silent imprint.

Too much instruction:

Neither cold nor wet

We sign and we sign without

I am yet the hungry dog

Our feet on the ground.

Standing at your door.


I met you at church

Created the meaning but

And what we became was more

For a mundane love.

Than that: Life itself.

If you could touch me

Yesterday I drank

I would neither indicate

And you filled me with travel

Nor express meaning.

Taking me away.

After the heart breaks

In joyful wisdom

We learn to sing the blues out

Neither rational nor not:

Yet the wound remains.

Whiskey and Women.

If music were words

If I care too much

It would lose its emptiness

I will not let you ascend

And begin to mean.

To where you must be.

The heart must empty

He showed me the way

Before it can fill with blood:

And we placed our crosses

In rhythms we live.

In Jerusalem.

Crossing the river

A city I see

I saw an island in mist

Unlike any other one:

Without being there.

If only love builds.

The dry: The empty:

Remember me then

The desert full of wisdom:

Once or twice in the wake

The place of testing.

Till we meet again.

It doesn’t matter

Not understanding

What color her eyes or skin:

I loved I knew not what yet

But can she forget?

Love itself was true.

If I stayed longer

I loved you without

It would be to love you more:

Concepts ideas or things

Without fear or care.

But in the living.

Meaningful research

To carry something

Does not combine others’ words

For somebody: Charity

In new arrangements.

Brings unending Grace.

My father appeared:

What is past is past

Traveled everywhere he went:

And yet without forgetting

In ashes he blew.

We invent our life.

My wife came so far:

In discovery

So far from her home seeking

Without searching or meaning

For something somewhere.

We will love again.

Our city ruined

Too much straitening

We rebuilt with trowel and

Causes order to structure

Sword: our two arms full.

Chaos completely.

I always loved you

If I could sing you

For you were with me before

Without words or intention

In the dream I had.

Then you would love me.

Only yesterday

Lived experience

I had a glimpse of life and knew

Escapes meaning giving thanks

Without meaning.

Morning and evening.

Lovers and deamers

If I try to be

And madmen like I speak

I am not: but sitting still

No image: one Word.

He found me alone.

Without cognition:

A dark night ordeal

To be the substance itself

I could not count the [envois] so

Is finding Truth.

Black in my own mind.

Without losing hope

Salvation saw me

Yet without expectation:

Sitting still beneath a tree

Wait and wait again.

And He called to me.

Nothing behind us:

He empties Himself

Nothing is what it seems and

And shows a way that cannot

You already are.

Make sense to the world.

I fell into Grace

He sang his own song

The only way I knew how:

Yet given from above In-

By being broken.


Light absolutely

Touch me in pity:

Breaks and scatters the darkness

Find a heart beneath my mind:

We are despite love.

Now: without passion.

In breathing I am

I learned despite not

In all things respiring in

Knowing and I gained more than

Him and He in me.

An education.

When not if He comes

After I was shot

He will find faith in cities

It took 20 years to die

That we did not burn.

But now I can live.

When not if He comes

A man all in black

Only His words will matter:

Said very well and fine but

Not our constructions.

What do you do now?

When not if He comes

The compass caught north

Every Buddha will clap hands

And despite direction lost

While sinners rejoice.

The future beyond.

Mindful without thought

Put your right shoe on

Children play and old men dream:

First and the rest will follow

Life itself goes on.

Of its own accord.

Victory is not

She found the water

Simple assertion and yet

Without a bucket or well:

It must be disclosed.

Life itself happened.

He said keep dancing

Women O Women:

To your own drummer so

You and you and you: without

I went on my way.

Your knowing I died.

If you can’t sit still

Keep alive the dream

You must run until you walk:

Especially while awake:

Then you will allow.

Let your feet not stray.

Allowance found me

Will your love survive

Alone on my bed without

Without understanding why?

Expecting a thing.

I say better yet.

I lived on sheer faith

The double-edge sword

Climbing the cliff face without

Cuts this way and that slicing

Any skill but hope.

The knot of knowledge.

O little children

If I could be you

If I could only free you:

I would still be me only

But you must free yourselves.

Without the desire.

O men of eighty

Language fails because

If I could restore your life:

It means too much: the Truth is

You would not let me.

Still and in stillness.

I had a feeling

The light that breaks us

There was literature here

Is more than we could have hoped:

But could not find it.

Every knee will bend.

Without a purpose

I have spent more time

The tradition is taught you

I have wasted more money

While you inform it.

Than [envois].


Forgive me for this

To the nth degree I read

It is not to be allowed:

Life backwards fading.

I almost told you.

Some people work in

Out of the depths cry

The Church while others pray for

Words that indicate without

A Kingdom to come.

Expressing the truth.

I will come with you:

All we can do is

Wherever you go I will

All we can do and not much:

Be there before you.

Will it be enough?

Without certainty

With fear and trembling

Universities will fail:

And in joy and hope we live:

Yet You are the Truth.

With what will we die?

Is bad love better

The sun will come up

Than no love at all? It seems

On us tomorrow always:

That time of season.

God willing it so.

I was always wrong

I saw an old friend

But turning left one more time

And exclaimed at the species:

I arrived at peace.

One in a million.

Vain is all seeking

All are lost but so

And yet when He finds you then

That all may be found: we are

You are truly found.

One in salvation.

Look not here nor there

Good and evil were

Still less within: if He knocks

My limits but without them

Do not be afraid.

I reached out to you.

Stranger in the night

Without meaning to

Announced again and again:

Means I cannot make a claim:

Still He surprised me.

I am what I am.

Pierced to the marrow:

I intend no thing:

My heart was ready for death

Neither play nor purpose nor

And even for Him.


Becoming simpler

Pure mind and pure heart:

Is not simple but involves

To forget yourself for love:

A winding detour.

How necessary.

In our labyrinths

Unbecoming mind:

In our selves we lose the way

Mindfulness without grasping:

Till it shows itself.

Hard the narrow way.

The Revelation

My wife and I climbed

Who God is and who you are:

Kilimanjaro today


And touched butterflies.

Nobody knows why

After the poem

But we stumble trip fall and

Has been interpreted what

Find it anyway.

Remains of silence?

Felix culpa is


The great truth of life because

Must be grounded in something

Humility is.

Autrement: Freedom.

Pure mind and pure heart:

Meaning plus music

To love the Good without guile:

Allows freedom that mere play

How simple: How hard:

Can never afford.

The deconstruction

Writers write: fish swim:

Cannot deconstruct silence:

Some people cook their food and

Mystic effraction.

Some eat their food raw.

Circular meanings

To get at the thing

Implicate endlessly but

You must uncover it and

The silence escapes.

In this words can help.

Neither expression

The blue butterfly

Nor indication: music

(for instance) in his pathless

And silence vibrate.

Flight lit on my hand.

The crisis passes:

I eternally hold

Minds allow each other more

A hand at no striving [envois]

Than bodies can know.

And yet it happens.

Without conventions:

It did not mean to

Neither seize nor know the day:

And I did not know meaning

Simply release it.

Itself afterwards.

Poets cannot know

Angela the saint

Anything but write their verses

Suffered me in the holy

Any way to live.


To be there with it

Dharma way also

Beneath sky-high waterfalls

Is Christian: Buddha made no

Was without meaning.

Claim against the Truth.

But it had event

One way all [envois]

Written in it and a hand

But no one is the actor:

Greeting not grasping.

Deny yourself: Yes.


He did not mean you

Will not do and description

Must suffer but meant you must

Never tells the truth.

Die: Unless a seed…

Alain Badiou

But we suffer though

Wrote the truth is like saying

We need not: because of love.

“Keep going forward!”

Compassionate One!

To adequate Christ

Christ nailed to the tree:

And Buddha: Empty within:

Buddha meditating on

Everything is grace.

Suffering beneath.

The way is of Christ

Both take on and put

And we all walk on that way

Off perishibility:

Though some walk away.

Both arise awake.

Buddha in glory:

What is not present

Jesus ran His race well:

Cannot be shown to you in

In both completion.


Resurrection is:


I must decrease: He is here:

Are not: images are not:

No actor: All: All.

You and I are not.

God is all in all

God is all in all:

So He had to die to be

Without structure or being:

Completed in us.

He is this movement.

Not that God Himself

It is a hard thing

Needed to be completed:

To deny yourself for Him:

It was for our sakes.

Yes: He is: not I.

Subjectless without

I am not I AM:

Object there is no is-ness

I am does not anymore:

But simply presence.

He abundantly.

I am not present

The cross is in this:

Nor can I be shown in your

Realization consists


Of denying self.

I mean that I am:

Meaning always means

Experience is other:

I am but in self denied

I AM does not mean.

Experience is.

Meaningful research

The cleavage is real:

Into self reveals nothing

Paradoxically real:

At bottom but God.

Reality IS.

I am illusion:

God is not only

Whatever depends is not:

The Most Real but the only

He is in my hand.

One Who IS: despite:

I cannot be me

Despite language games:

But there is nothing else but

Philosophizing reasons:

To be me here now.

Desires: Lusts: Pleasures.

What is here and how

Sense is not non-sense:

In denying self empties

Reality exceeds both:

Itself into Him.

The absolute IS.

Neither I am nor

Awareness is real:

That thou art: but even less

Jesus as man felt the pain

Solipsistic sense.

For our pain was His.

He was at the point

Find the beginning:

And broke through all suffering

Where I end is where He is:

In contradiction.

I must decrease.

Buddhas in ascent:

Words are not yet Him

Christ descended into hell:

And writers neither lose Him nor

All is redemption.

Find His meaning.

The teacher instructs

The writer seeks not

By various ways and means

Meaning not expression but

To light up our minds.

An experience.

Lamps unto our feet

The trap of writing

Guides to our paths: meaningful

Is that it is illusion

To the moral faith.

And does not mirror.

But experience

Referring to self

Of Buddha and Christ is not

It fails: but we are not it:

Found in their meanings.

The Lord uses us.

God is undefined:

On the battleground

No propositions in God:

Minds are lost and won and more

De-limit the mind.

Won in the losing.

When you fail you know:

He did not tell us

You know you do not know and

Repeat after me but this:

Must stop trying to.

Deny: and: Follow.

Desks are poor things full

Following does not

Of papers and ambition:

Mean anything: it is the

Here I sit not-I.

Act of walking with.

Old boy what seek ye?

In walking with Him

Truth is not illusion but

We have sympathy and in

Knowing is just that.

This is understanding.

Truth cannot be known:

Many have told us

Truth is then when I am not:

What He meant: What did He do?

How can it be known?

He emptied Himself.

I allow (let’s say)

Vessels of light are

By emptiness a space for

Not full but empty so that

Truth to emerge in.

The light may fill them.

Detached: dismantled:

The blind do not know

Words are the last delusion:

The light despite accurate

He did not SAY it.

Explanation: Because:

The experience

Reconcile yourself

Of light itself acts like light:

To Him in forgetting that

Light has no meaning.

Once I was I AM.

What makes meaning is

HE WHO IS is that

The thing that is like the sun:

Absolutely: vanity

Was Derrida right?

To replace His place.

Poverty dumbstruck:

Literature is

Meaninglessness rather than

Still the tower of babble:

All these useless words.

Brick on brick on brick.

Abide: dwell: silent:

God did not do it:

Avoid speaking vanity

He does not but is beyond

Of all the vain things.

Our little towers.

We are: already:

Not analogy:

Useful words are words that use

But He will substantiate:

Themselves for climbing.

Transcendent in us.

Do not rebuild it:

Not even being:

Let it lie: release it; Gone:

That is interpretation:

Lovers: in love forgetting.

Withdrawal of self.

Meaning is order:

I meant nothing: say

To experience again

It was not my intention:

My meaninglessness.

Say something happened.

However much I

It was as she wished:

I seem to persist: My will

We went somewhere and we did

Meaning intention.

Something: yet did not.

At some point the thing

We believe all things:

Approaches in silent notes

We rejoice in the day of

And music happens.

The Lord: we are glad.

We walked up and down:

That night I awoke:

We roamed the butterfly fields

I said there is something that

At the mountain’s edge.

Is outside of me.

The butterflies seem


Erratic: wandering: not Lost: but Bliss is Bliss.

No point than to live:

There is something there

Till then my hand there appeared:

Outside of me and allowing

Another moment.

Myself the stillness.

The butterfly IS:

We too with Buddhas

A hand was extended and

In glory and Christ in light

Then something happened.

To resound in song.

What? I cannot say

God sings Himself in

Because it cannot be said

Us: through us: for us: and we

Without a meaning.

Give Him instruments.

If I seem to say

Truth asks nothing more

It is only an illusion:

Than that it be sung: I say

I have not said IT.

Even these stones sing.

Buddha and Jesus

Even my mountain

Lived IT: said words to be heard

Cries out and will not let still:

More real by witness.

Harmony allows.

Light and all shadow

Allow Jesus to

Approximate the seasons:

Sing His song in you: never

Jesus died in Spring.

A song of myself.

I trust in this fact:

In absolute peace

The Promise: He will come take

The greatest songs are silent:

Us soon to Heaven.

Becoming seemless.

Jesus died in Spring:

A billion writers

Look at the flowers around

With their streaming meanings still

And see Him growing.

Cannot make you fly.

Without deception

If you do you will

Following butterflies

Do so by your love: a

Will also lead you.

Love without knowing.

They sing the same song

Neither hand will know

Without words without knowing

The exchange of self for God

Without notation.

Or when you took flight.

The meaning (again)

The dignity of

Impose suppose interpret:

Us is in our willing not

The butterfly IS.

Our own but others.

It is we who mean

To take flight cannot

And we who sing but not the

Mean anything until you

Butterflies who fly.

Fly: less even then.

Each blue dash and dart

Stable but shifting:

Simply was and I was not:

The words mean something but a

And yet I may be.

Butterfly wants more.

Simple clarity

All I have is yours:

And words about what happened:

When you give yourself to Him

Discernment required.

How can you remain?

The paradox IS:

Neither “I and I”

We efface ourselves when we

Nor “Every Other” even

Realize ourselves.

But beyond all that.

Never imitate:

I will never know:

Don’t just sit there and stare at Him:

When I know I will then cease

See the truth: He IS.

To exist as I.

Never imitate:

No mystery: Then

Be: when you are yourselves then

Why so few reach for knowledge

You no longer are.

Knowing they will cease.

One above behind

We will destruction

Us all behind all signs and

Of the world rather than this:

Things makes us: Believe.

Let God be you now.

In belief hearts are

And we would rather

In sacrifice of self torn

Speak a streaming discourse:

That we give the gift.

I: than not be I.

Yet I will not be:

Talk now less and less

Why not now? Why not by Him?

As monks learn to teach an all

We say by His grace.

Through whelming silence.

Even without [envois]

Poor butterflies: rich

Or effort at the right time

In poverty taking no

It simply happens.

Thing but simple flight.

Though trials there to be

I saw them make love:

And the fight of ceaseless war

In natural attraction

The peace is: still IS.

With us by their side.

And the war is won

But they (who can say

Not by surrender but [envois]

Why) flew away leaving us

By coming onslaught.

To interpret them.

Just be the peace and

Butterfly lovers:

See: no will: no mind: no one:

Us and them: in all we are:

Radiant presence.

And in love finding.

Still dismantle me

For compassion IS:

As talk continues to be:

To give a home and blessing:

Continues to see.

To find the right time.

To not dwell alone:

He the essential:

Neither dwell without meaning:

I the passing: memories

We finding outside.

Will not be mounting.

When I am not-I

On the one mountain

Then suddenly there is THIS:

There is but glory alone:

A world surrounding.

Let it be: enough.

Jacques said the context


Is the meaning: Nothing can

Is the conversion of I

Carry it: but be.

Into the not-I.

We absent ourselves

Experience is


Not this: Experience is

Until transformation.

Forgetting to mean.

Stepping outward bound

Buddha on his side

We are almost are that Glory:

And Jesus on the cross died:

Yet not us alone.

Yet they did not die.

Glory means nothing

Buddha’s mindfulness

If I glorify myself:

And Christian suffering are

Give glory to God!

Not polarities.

Experience first

Neither description

After suffering before

Nor explanation will do:

Teaching us the way.

I am not an “I�.

Experience last

If language distorts:

Through suffering in order

Vehicles of metaphor:

To teach us the way.

Words are not useless.

Truth is the only

Convey your belief:

Thing left to see: Whatever

We are separate and so

Is not is not real.

We still try to say.

Life is a vector

Just this separateness

Moving in a direction

Falls into the signs of what

Without [envois].

Plato called the Gap.


Between the ideal

Come together fall apart:

And the real is the shadow

Particularly words.

Which cannot be said.

Mirrors of the real

We lovers till then:

They are not real but seem:

Love us by separation:

True propositions.

To jump the abyss.

Love is our meaning

What IS simply IS:

Yet in our experience

When you become you will be:

We find what love is.

But we always wait.

Not only feeling

The kingdom is now:

But in the ground of being:

When we realize it we

Love creates our need.

Show ourselves kingship.

Pounding out the hours

He is still within:

We would set sail out of love:

Find after your “I am” the

For love: toward love.


And we stand still

I am not: He IS:

Stranded on the shore waiting

My “I am” is an echo

For better relief.

Of the great I AM.

There is one to come


And He wipes away all tears

Is the fool of time [envois]

In our dark sainthood.

To good and evil.

And we climb the steps:

Knowledge must be: Yet

We shake off the need of pride

In the Phantasm we know

For the one virtue.

Nothing but ourselves.

Don’t let me be proud:

Yet God’s gifts and His

Lord make me an instrument

Call are irrevocable:

Steady in your hand.

He did not let me.

Death will not hold us

These shards of meaning

If we submit to Your will:

Professing experience

Lord make me humble.

Miss the mark of Him.

God is my shepherd:

He is the Most High:

I have wanted nothing but

Where others thought ideas

Needed discipline.

Of infinity:

My Lord and My God!


I did it all for God and

Exposing the word to their

For her: for she IS.


For God and for her:

The truth about that thing

For in perfect wisdom the

Called deconstruction is the

Virgins know God best.

Fact men loved a lie.

In my unknowing

They loved a lie and

I wandered from the way and

Worshipped themselves rather than

Almost lost my faith.

The creator God.

Glory is but sight

Buddha walked a lot

Cleansed of what I cannot be:

As did Christ to His crossing:

The “I” I am not.

Their words still travel.

In perfect vision

By example they

Behold the man where He stands

Set out the better truths like

Bleeding in judgment.

Plato immortal.

Then He gave glory:

On one above we

Crucified and Glorified:

Depend: return to the source:

Him who died for you.

Be not dismantled.

Overcome evil with

For surely He comes:

Good in peace with great patience:

Be neither afraid nor doubt

Despite the mind’s thoughts.

His voice calling you.

Do not be afraid:

Once again build up:

All beings attend on you:

Let yourself in uprightness

Salvation is near.

Bow low before Him.

He saved me drowning:

When you came apart

Some rise and some fall: amazed

You still saw the meanings that

The abyss buoys.

Were meant to save you.

They were not words to

Stay on the path and

The deaf but eyesight to the

Walk more surely than before

Blind in His Blessing.

And gospel yourself.


They once said that we Un do: let go: that truth is Always already.

Both stand in the truth:

But I say hold on

One speaks IT the other IS:

And never give up nor yet

Christ thy name is Love.

Give in to release.

I am not my own

Atonement is not

Light and I cannot see you

Imagination which

Without Him my lamp.

Is but I the Fool.

If we could see Him

If I had known the

In one another how could

Truth sooner I would have must

We cease believing?

Have written elsewhere.

There are directions

The really Real can

And if you follow them you

Be seen in the weather: But

Will not fall away.

Experience Him.

Find the one you know

Pages of marvel

Who opens the clouds without

That turn to ash easily:

Any force but light.

Yet His words remain.

Buddha said look past


Me: but Pilate said Behold The Man: Jesus Christ.

Truth will never stray:

Persist! Then: Persist!

Truth returns to the place of

There is no happiness but


In overcoming.

There is but one light:

Since He opened you

We all see by that one fire:

You cannot close again but

We all shine with it.

Sometimes you still try.

Words take on the dark:

God is the one who

But how white the pages and

Teaches: His reign is rain: Soak

Smooth their reception.

Me with all Your Truth.

You must be that page:

Once I sat still and

Allow the inscrutable

Waited on the arrival:

To inscribe itself.

It seemed forever.

More! More butterflies!

Let yourself shine then:

More mountains to climb! Without

By the light: not in a dark

Memory to see them.

Night of this writing

Words are more and less

But in the dark night

And the truth is in meaning

Of the soul embraced by God

But we lack the means.

Who is your Author.

Or do we? He gives

You are not the thing

His Word unfailing and He

Itself and cannot know it:

Must be spoken through.

But it has always

Do not see me write:

Known you and me in

Do not imagine the scene:

Our medicine and artless:

You already write.

Our pretty sinning.

You are my event

Alone to alone:

And I am your pretext for

But never alone I heard

Good criticism.

Him call me by name.

Dissolution is

Relationship is

The acid word of the man

Not false in itself because

Who deconstructs you.

We are all in Him.

Did you think that you

The gift of presence

Could lose yourself without then

Simply is experience:

Losing Him as well?

The meaning of life.

Mortal blindness! Fool!

For instance I say:

I am that very man that

Birds sing despite our sighing

You are without Him.

And do not let up.

Once I did seem real

After your heart breaks

But got over it after

You must still sing like the birds:

The enlightenment.

Never letting up.

Enlightenment is

There is no middle

Without a doubt and yet

Way but a narrow one that

Not what people think.

Hurts: still you must sing!

Patience (the great thing)

I once sang a song

Means only you hold what you

Knowing not what but it was

Have been given: Gifts

Noise and weariness.

From above because

What you are you are

Despite what you have been told:

But do not ignore the law

You cannot save you.

Written “thou shall not.�

Know thyself it’s said

Jesus went into

And it is still good to learn:

The desert in order to

But only in Him.

Be tempted! And win!

After descent to

You have been given

Your vilest depth look up and

Temptations in order to

See Christ in Glory.

Secure victory.

Only by knowing

Not for fun nor for

The difference will I know

Punishment are you tempted

The truth of my world.

But to overcome.

There is an ancient

The experience

Enemy without and one

Or meaning of the “waste land”

Within: Guard yourself!

Is not metaphor.

I was never for

You must live it for

Hire and did not earn a day’s

Yourself if you will conquer

Wage: may God forgive.

The evil and sin.

I hope: I hope He

As well as that of

Will forgive my ignorance

Living without the knowledge

Thinking that I knew.

Of the truth He is.

Like anyone else

Abandon ourselves

I must climb from ignorance

To God and we will not fail

To understanding.

To arrive on time.

I must learn to fight:

It was not in vain

Myself and all that stands in

I once read of the Buddha

The way of my goal.

Because [envois].

If the world writes me

My journey to the

Badly I will rewrite the

East was over and I came

Script and improvise.

Around to my truth.

Truth is His stillness

Do not mistake the

But also truth calls to me

Finger pointing at the moon

From the very storm.

For the moon itself.

Truth does not cease in

But neither should i

Pursuit of me though I still

Fail to read the signs of the

Run the other way.

Times I am living.

It is a good thing

There is something loose

God loves us so much and that

In the world the world does not

He never gives up.

Know: the antichrist.

We think we know it

But only Francis

But we have no idea of

And a few others loved Her;

What it means to do.

Lady Poverty.

I said it once

The kingdom is not

And I will say it again:

Of meaning nor is it a

Yet Christ will abide.

Senselessness: it IS.

If I may return:

The word means more than

The argument of the text

Meaning as a concept contains;

Is: just simply be.

A Sheer Abundance

Coming to be and

That chose poverty

Passing away are the truth

Instead in order to be

Buddha would escape.

With us forever.

Do not fight your own

To live as we live:

Suffering but do not look

To take our meaninglessness

Away to avoid.

And give us what IS.

In poverty I

But we stick with a

Found meaning did not mean to:

Meaning that amounts to our

I am not empty.

Own deconstruction.

There is more to say

Waterfall above:

But what IS always takes time:

Butterfly at hand: You stood

Even the eternal.

Too: essentially ajar.

I won’t look into

Neither this nor that

The abyss too long since

Life is not [envois]

I looked into you.

Nor is it a thing itself.

The book lay open:

To descry meaning

No one there to read the signs:

Once more in the name of life

The means fell away.

Is simply senseless.

Trees grow toward light

The scatter pattern:

But find in the black earth the

Butterflies and the little

Other half of life.

Flower remind me.

I grew toward Him

Is enlightenment

Out of sinful soil and love

Life without meaning or the

For the Autrement.

Experience of

But turning away

Meaninglessness that

From my bad beginning, I

Is still a reason to believe

Look toward what I found.

Despite the nonsense?

God still gives to us


Meanings never lost again

And His fullness may yet be

But asks our catching.

My own completion.

If I look for that

The Buddha said he

I will never find that:

Was always at beginning

Thou art not That when

And so too am I

That is the lie of

He would save the worlds

Eden: that you are Gods and

From suffering by killing

That I made myself.

Passions and desires.

Through enlightenment

Whether there is an

The darkest deconstruction!

End to suffering or not

Am I the measure?

Is not the issue:

I think I will yet

I risk pain for love:

Empty myself of conceit

I must affirm life as IS

And write for the Lord.

And love it anyway.

Then without knowing:

The experience

With a hand trained to obey

Of pain may not have meaning

Discover His truth.

But accessing love.

An experience

Perhaps so I might

Buddha thought was meaningless

Someday understand when I

Is the means to love.

Have learned how to love.

Christ chose it Himself

I suffer to love

Out of love, not to buy back,

And almost love to suffer

But drink it all down.

As priests tell us to.

And to show me how

Forget not Buddha

I can love too both because

Neither Christ nor what was their

And despite the pain.

One experience:

Even though the Buddha

Complete emptiness:

Did not die and stopped the wheel

The way up and the way down

Yet the world still turns.

Are one and the same.

And churches come and

The obedience

Churches go in the name of Christ

Of love is greater than faith

But no kingdom come.

And love can also

They did not live in

Empty you of self:

Vain but their lives are not yet

Only empty of self can I

Understood by me.

Carry the abyss.

If I could love you

For freedom is not

I would find in you the way

The one thing necessary:

To experience.

So then why not love?

And yes: the meaning:

Judgment in the way

The one word of harmony:

Of the way we would love to:

My reason to be.

Choice desire indicts.

Something more I see

All religions are

In the truth of the person

One: to choose between them is

That you are likely:

Admission of guilt.

Another Buddha,

Guilty of the lack

Beneath the tree: or asking

Of love based on judging truth

Christ the cross relieve

Without acceptance.

Our sins so we may love

Do not choose what to

To forget our meaningless

Believe: election requires

Lived experience.

Your being chosen.

I think I too thirst

Just try not to hurt

Like Christ though I am no saint

People on the way to where

And need not freedom:

You are going to.

Am I bothersome?

Meaning is judgment

I am too full of advice:

But experience beauty

But I think I know.

Without copula.

The impossible

If you have much to

God does the impossible:

Give then give it all away

Made me so poor rich.

From exuberance.

That I would give Him:

May God help me speak

Paying attention is my

Without judgment though I think

Way to pray in thanks.

I have seen the worst.

To write the meaning

Let no false love nor

Of meaninglessness is

Parody of Catholic

To exemplify.

Theology reign.

In paradox I write:

I wrote poetry

For I cannot say what the

Thinking I was in [envois]

Butterfly would say:

But love was not yet there

If wings were words and

For otherwise why

She traced sentences in the

Not stay on the mountain with

Air instead of beauty.

The blue butterfly?

Searching: possessing

Missing the meaning

Lies I thought were truth I was

I held to experience

Leading her away.

Trapped in my own self.

I could not say I

Contradictions are

Experimented with her

Sometimes true but why did I

Beauty as Nietzsche

Make it my arche?

Did with the old truths:

I was but a text

And at least experience

And caught in my own writing

Called out a warning.

Effortlessly drowned.

The life is passing:

Until He called halt!

For a moment it is there and

I turned and became aware

then it is forever:

Of what I was not.

Gone: a memory:

Which is simply put

Is that what butterflies are

Everything: everything else:

To become for you?

The world I am not.

But I did not know how

My dream of something

To love the blue butterfly:

Outside of me was just the

She could have been God.

Leading vision seen.

Oh to write truly

The clever boy is

Of the plainest things I once

Obscured by the brilliance that

Did not care about

Others meant to say.

And not lose His love

Another boy would

In self-absorbed exhaustion

Wait and not forget: patient

And in the ceaseless

Longing yet without

Search to say what I

Rushing past the signs

Could never say any way I

Of love which all have meaning

Might have tried: that is:

To Him who made them.

Let me not feign a

God is good: God alone

Meaning while at the same time

Is good: what does this mean now

Saying there is none.

Seen from another

Why not become Light?

Point of view? It means:

There is only one story:

At least I can say this much:

It is not about me.

I know God is Good.

The clever boy is

To know something is

Lost in the meaning of his

Different from not knowing:

Meaning not knowing.

I said I did not

And I really did

The light is glory:

Not: but I thought that I did:

The very thing called into

I was a burden.

Question by darkness.

I am not the light

I did not know how

That I must experience

Complicit was my blindness

In order to know.

With what I held true.

I said light does not

The glory of God:

Mean anything and yet by

Deconstruction and roman

It we know all things.

Deconsecration seek

But I know that light

Their own glory in

Is good: I know it: that light

An anticipation of

Is the light of men.

Antichrists to come.

The darkness cannot

They will use any

Comprehend it and I was

Means to erase meaning: the

In complete darkness

Simulation of.

Yet I was writing

I did not see that

Of my own enlightenment:

Meaning and experience

Could I be more wrong?

Are not opposed but

Complement: they are

He was a signal:

Not absence against presence

A messenger: the way that

But ways of knowing

God said “I love you.�

Truth: by their fruits you

I turned his sign of

Shall know them: the meaning

Love inside-out and said it

Of experience

Had no meaning as such:

For a catholic

That the event did

Is simply the sacraments:

Not respire with a meaning

But does God need them?

Because there is none:

Who benefits from the

No meaning as such

Catholic economy?

But that the butterfly IS

Only Catholics.

And to be is not

I loved that little

To mean but to be

Blue butterfly that landed

Another kind of higher

On my fingertip

Emptiness: the Void.

And had the very

And now the Roman

Experience in itself

Church is to be made void and

But missed the meaning.

With it the world too.

Both of these abysses

But no more worlds to

Of the deconstruction and

Follow: more void than Buddha’s

The deconsecration

Realm: kingdom undone.

Are places that light will

So I look back on

Not reach: deepest darkest

The world of the time I touched

Hell: black but on fire.

The blue butterfly.

These terrible things

How much I did not

Still mean something: they are rich:

Know of things to come when that

Because they ruin truth.

World would seem a dream

Without truth there will

And dwell with the God

Be no more spiritual

In unapproachable light:

World, and without it:

While the context of

No more world of the

The blue butterfly

Material either: for

That gives to experience


The meaning divine

Not just the world that

Was to be torn in

Followed the deconstruction

Two and beauty truth love all

And deconsecration:

Lost in delusion.

I had thought my own

Call me in the queue:

Error so damnable in

Call me edge of seventeen:

Not giving meaning:

Continuum called

But they do far worse:

Q: as a question:

They will say the fine thing but

As a philosophical

They will not mean it.

Response to dogma.

Neither Buddha nor

Independence is

The catholic line satisfies

Not in error because the

But the Christ alone.

Pope isn’t honest.

Seventeen in a

More catholic than

Stanza stands in the Q and

The Pope is the church of Q:

Strikes against antichrist.

Sans benediction.

A spanner in the

The independent

Works between the sixteen and

Thinker in freedom and in

The eighteen so that

Isolation from

John Paul II and his

The one and only

False prophet cannot connect

Lie that hinders salvation:

The magic number.

The papal blessing.

He has not any

And judgment the tare

Idea of God: but the

To be torn: leave them not till

Person of God is

The end but remove:

True and the Pope may

Remove: tear judgment

Not even know what he is

Up by its roots and let it

In compensation:

Begin in Peter.

For in the spirit

The wolves and the sheep:

Of psychology the mind

Meaning and experience:

Contains both sides of

The wheat and the tares:

The coin: Icons

Buddha and the Christ:

Of Christ and the debased on

Benighted Benedict

The dark side of Him:

Blesses in reverse.

Benedict in His

Let Shostakovitch

Shadow completes the Christ but

Lead my quartet by a string

Woe to the man who

From peace to war and

Misunderstands Him:

Back again: to the

Who chooses judgment when love

Time of the blue butterfly:

Was the wheat to find:

Neither bought nor sold.

I said (for instance)

Use your illusion:

That truth is spoken despite

Yet you are that though: to be:

Us: yet it is said.

Weary spectacles:

In irony our

And so on and so

Words echo back to us as

Forth: we are witnesses to

Derrida’s laughter.

The truth not against:

I will offend then

Yet truth must be the

A selection of the work

Thing against itself to be

In question below:

True to itself: so:

No gain: ever lose:

The pope (God bless him):

Further fall: flower she fell:

Benighted Benedict:


Enlightened no one:

They would have us turn

And over him rose

To chase it up ahead or

The thorn of contradiction:

Look into the past:

The nobody rose:

Do neither: be here:

O care of the soul:

Discern: in the timeliness:

Benediction petrified:

A temporal shut:

Peter’s blessing stone:

To the prophecy

However oblique

Of Celan and in dialogue

In approach: even from the

With Derrida and

Envois on he came

Two infinities:

To re veal the lamb

That the poet saw the pope

Not quite as serious as

And the end of him.

The pope: for the text

Rams: beasts: petrified:

Would ever contain

He would raise the rock to strike

The evil which was the real

The flock and scatter:

Reason for writing.


As the mind in two

Derrida too foresaw the

The janus faced coin of an

One to come but hidden in

Exergue to come:

His text were the keys

Psyche and spirit:

Of the abyss: as always

Inseparable: heaven

Already he said:

Is in your mind and

Such is the law of

The simulacrum

The text: to hide the hest from

Of the text is a way to

Every first comer:


My life will therefore

Into basest coin:

Have been a scandal to them

Defaced the icons: profaned

Who judge it to be:

The sanctuary:

But Christ himself was

If life is Christ then

So and a sign to contradict

Sacramental grace is here

The acting pope said.

When we truly live:

The acting pope of

Sacraments give life:

The coup, as the church rolled dice

Presence: God amid His Church:

At the foot of the

Now surely elsewhere:

Cross and gambled for His

Where grace is lasting:

Vestments and investiture:

Arise: trust in the Lord: take


Up your mat and walk:

And in mystic fashion

Your faith will save you:

Described fascist projection:

Leave the church and sin no more:

A transmutation

Do not look back but

Of the sacred to

Carry light salt seed

The transubstantiation

In order to scatter the

Of the golden Christ

Others in: to God.

Late have I left thee

She will always be

O Ecclesia: but not

Further than the East, like

Too late I still pray.

Sins flung far away:

One startling serene

He knows me better

Still one remained just for me

But she could not help but sign

Among the roses.

The blank I left blank:

She I say but one:

I waited and she

No other: neither word nor

Came: out of time: without the

Fragment: She: Woman:

Least direction: straight:

Say untouched by time

A rebel though she

Until a small voice whispered

Knew it not and ready to

Get and go: See.

Build back the torn down.

Destiny in it:

Almost not quite just

She went and me she continued

Barely yonder: the way come

In what we didn’t say.

Passing over all:

If they say she wore

When you find me say

Black and I wore red they’d be

He did not know his way yet

Half-right: we revolt.

Arrived after all.

In the dialectic

The weird news is this:

Of fascism are three moments:

Closure is trying to take

Nietzsche: Hitler: and

Place: with only Q

Joseph Ratzinger:

Between: the hated

His name says it all: O rats!

Number of Pythagoras:

The Thesis of the

The most random one:

Nietzschean seemed to

Between the added

Reach fruition in the reich:

Two of the beast and the false

But antithesis

Prophet’s sixteen stands

Is never enough:

The seventeenth to

The synthetic matrix in

Keep closure from occurring


As Ulysses said:

Suspends the body

For the point is yet:

Of Christ in an illusion

And indicated: where? Here:

Of the pious fraud:

Just before MB

And Jewish rapture

And the nightlong song

Left behind only the Church

That may yet end in a Yes:

Militant to blame.

Yet not affirmation:

For after the yes

To be said: a new

What took place in the text of

Direction when I spoke of

Joyce but the wake that

Augustine: Arrive.

Is the funeral

The circle as such

Of the world: in the text mind

Cannot arrive as it is

You: every word counts:

Forever turning:

Ultrastructure is:

But if it closes

And there is nothing else but:

It will trap those in it in an

The Ultrastructure.

Economic Hell.

The Q if you would

Effraction is now.

Describes a circle effracted:

Disclosure of the fact is

A line laid across:

Enough in theory:

The economy

Symbolic therefore

Must be broken: the meaning

Real: the ideality

Of the catholic

of literature:

Church exposed inside

The line being laid

And out for revelation:

Against the antichrist ties

It will be released.

The sovereignties.

To save the Church will

By crossing his orb

Require true discernment for

With a line of reference

This we pray O Lord.

I shatter the globe:

I broke the Church

The impossible:

Open and exposed its heart:

If the pope refuses to stand

Now let me repair:

In the queue like the

Let is not be dashed

Rest of us, then he

Against the cornerstone but

Will find certain Q and A:

Built upon the rock:

A question for the

A new and better

Antichrist: Answer:

Than Peter is in ruins

Where are the miracles Ben?

Of a truth I loved.

Are they yet hidden?

O Christ you are true

Something in the bread

And faithful and so I write

And wine? Show me miracles

The line that must be

Benedict: Show me.

The sole arbiter

A church without truth:

Of meaning: my fixed point of

A church without miracles:

Reference: my all.

So a line is laid.

For it knows of me

Truth stands in the Q:

And what I am doing since

Bataille’s “story of rats” and

The archive has no


Corner in which to

The impossible:

Hide: so: if the circle of

God works in mysterious

circular letters:

Ways: The text abides.

The encyclical

Heraclitus said

Of the Marian Dogma

The most beautiful thing is

Has been prevented

Just this pile of junk.

By prevenient

Peter opposed

Grace: the circle at eighteen

His hierarchy to it:

Is inachevee:

But Peter will fall:

The antichrist is

To democracy:

Incomplete: on the other

To the freedom of the text:

Hand he may force it:

To the witnesses:

And attempt closure

Only by keeping

At any rate: But truth stands

Everything out of his pure

In the way of it.

Fraud could he succeed.

Even denying

Types and symbols of

The words of the Lord by

Eternity: as we cross


The circle and break

The salt has lost its

The chain that would bind

Savor though: and the savior

The sovereignties:

Tramples under foot.

All moving as one.

The secret archive

We are already past

Of the Vatican opens

The point of the watershed:

To disclose nothing.

Down the mountain then:

Ashes to ashes

For she awaits us:

And dust to dust: they forged the

Shall I say Jerusalem?

Claim: Usurpation.

She is no Roman:

They cannot forge the

We will all descend

Blue butterfly or take the

Together now to the vale

Hand I held away.

Of the decision:

For there is in the


Chance occurrence a sign of

Time is not told by the clock

The one mind; One Face:

But tolled in a text.

meaning and experience, part 1 michael bolerjack  
meaning and experience, part 1 michael bolerjack  

the first part of a long poem on the epic themes of the end of the world and the end of the church, put in the context of an experience in n...