Traversing Verses: A liturgy of sorts By: Kristoffer Paul Denoyer

2 Introduction: In my time of Dyin Poems Poem Dark (K)night of My Soul (History - Lamentations - Psalms) Evaporated Theos On Through Dry as the Sahara Oh, Americas Physical Needs Embraced at a Midnight Hour Backseat Blues Lucid Dreams BLINK 09/08/2011 Rooftop of America Absurdity No(a)ught Everything sing, sing, sing Living breathing dreams Spies Amongst the Wheat Short & Sweet Crutch Just a passenger on the train, headn' somewhere Kalamazood Bloody brilliant, it is. Hello Chicago Days, Mellow Haze. (8/24/11) Wording... July 1st, 2011 23rd psalm Plaid Dharma IN HIND SIGHT Sullen Load Shining as Stars Visions, Visions, ReVisions: Traversing Verses Extras Living Breathing (finished) Reworking of: Poem in praise of my husband Entitled: Poem in praise of my future wife And Im free

Volume I: Lost Everything and Gained Eternity Some thoughts are unthinkable, unless you are Reborn.

4 Introduction: In my time of Dyin Ive died to many things and many things have died in me. The dying tune of a canary placed in the coal mine. Not finding what was first pursued, just stumbling gracefully into the Penrose holy ascending/descending wholly ascending/descending ascending and descending a perpetual cyclonic machine, the inseparable naivety to the inseparable ego. Perhaps lost or found in wonderful dis-illusionment or utter bliss. The naive pursuit of better teachings, stronger learning, factual truths, and a wide-spread seduction. A seduction to others, a seduction to instill others in a love for another place. A new Jerusalem, a higher knowledge, the end to cycles. The reincarnations, rebirths, new deaths, stinketh no more. To find the eternal upward moving staircase. Every time, just finding, it dies within me. Not sure if my ferryman days will come, the life of saint Christopher reached. Nothing gained from the flowing power of the raging river. The perpetual oneness of everything, never holding despair and joy as one. Dissecting it all into two sects, sinners and non I cannot gain wisdom as knowledge. The canary doesnt sing to me anymore, he sits silent, let loose or dead. Maybe even my ego speaks over its beautiful song even the song could have never even existed, just a figment, an illusion of my own (and the world I have en-wrapped myself ins) creation. Created from my confusion during nights, the nights that create confusion on their own. Speaking into your subconscious, playing games with the Penrose of the insane ones mind. Cheap tricks and petty games, alluring to the senses, the want, the wanting and learning. As if such is gained. As if Ive gained anything at all.

5 Poem - Any given door is closing Praying those bastard beads back in those days, tying them seven crossed knots while chanting Frannys insanity. Coincidence or not being stopped, pondered as Saints, a Saintly glow you say? Look after him, last mans name synonymous to our savior, was crossed himself. - Free the people Pour lonesome compassionate betrayer Turned away for insanities sake and dreams forever. Dark (K)night of M y Soul (History - Lamentations - Psalms) Drowned in scotch, bathed in righteousness this life lead unprotected, unscathed nearly made it to the end digging that shallow grave tomorrow awaits; todays left in peril Pursue no footsteps left behind no one dare lead such a life saddle up, ride back home sip at the gin with a grin no need to face such peril as night settled, eyes glistened beauty is seen from this cell burning supple flame, dark (K)night of the soul oh Beauty, rescue me now! oh great freedom, bestowed upon me now Evaporated Lightening cracks Here comes the sun & rain A harbinger of doom & gloom Dreamy wet cement day. My poems are weary tho I am a joyous soul at heart A playful child Perception has a glossy despairing filter

6 Cannot turn off the brain Dear God, why was I created this way? In your image, Imago Dei Are you as neurotic as I? As self doubting and making it up as you go type? Sometimes, it seems as tho your as fallible as the pope. Did you mean for it to be this way or is the blame solely our own? What a burden to own No, I have not yet forgotten the son. Such condolences paid still my heart tares. If the tree ever bore fruits it appears sheep even wolves would prepare to destroy the ripening the ripened spirit. Along with it, evaporate! Theos Despite the inquiry of such; I depart Depart from these weary lands filled with anguish traversing paths questioning of which, depths of faith. No longer warm, no longer sought out of sight from peaks above Disbarred from joy: pry these lips from upon this alter! Reap from what you sow no more Vast the distance, silent the path destruction awaits, peering in my soul gazing down the barrel How bitter and cold this night. On Through Meandering pandering down the road from shooting star to rising sun passionate bursts in directions sought into set breezes passn Encompassing madness prudent sense of indiscretions

7 laden path set indolence in the course of time perhaps idiotic live recklessly young much seen from keen eyes gin filled grin from the top window in chaotic in flight; one to the next this coppered-eyed angel seen from afar waving on high, to the gatherers below this coppered-eyed misery pan handling on-lookers: grace madness flows like a stream never ending righteousness holds up like a never shaking mountain interchanging gospel lenses drifting towards insanity madmen raging yelling crowing screeching hopelessly preaching lending single lenses truth of Truths, beyond all measure socially inept, physically stature in shadows Romanesque manor rough round edges Kierkegaards withering ironic eternal flower love for all its worth finding haystacks among needles all the intently derived narratives vacantly speaking forward in time intensity high, the end is nigh now gazing out, pondering so Dry as the Sahara Friends, Shes burning. Wait She's burnt. Trifecta infestation. Chin deep in the shit held dear. Phase one: First come first served. Took the bait, the bermensch into obscurity,

8 Nothing. Starring into oblivion, bonfire filthy evening. Phase two: pouring rain, onward warmth Red pearl whiskey, come along, Alaska Never mind madmen & their ravings. Live the now, Dontcha know? Make way for Phase 3: Promise to stay, we never will. Wanderlust takes hold Self-deprecation burdened with boredom wins 9 times outta ten. Let her pieces fall adrift, someone else will pick up that mess. I cant bear to look at her shes burnt. Oh, Americas A generation of burnouts, no longer stars. Stabbed in the back by a rusty crucifix, deciphering through justice. Our greatest minds falling prey to causality. Beating hearts of truth felt deep, seen friends go mad on contradictions wake. Self-deception seems fit, so fight we must - aimless and faceless we fight amongst us. Established as crazy, far gone by the majority society sees fit. Street art leads the way, for the rats pull astray. Oh, Americas, where do you lay? Why do you laugh so? Chuckle at my contradictory behavior. My slacking lazy bones, even this willy-nilly stature upheld. We underground men, filled with laziness. Stuck are we in conundrums wake. Oh, how it is ever a spectators game. Americas watch us burn with limp minds and dull bodies. Americas, watch these flaming paradoxes. These smoldering ends. Baffled onlookers gaze on, the generations baffled travelers. Unceasingly praying and constantly smoking onward down the road. Physical Needs Totally blown & torn from mindless monotony. Frayed boiled burned and yoked Fuckn A! Man down.

9 Embraced at a midnight hour Embraced at midnight. Rain trickled down The Turkish camel lit blaze, Glowing orange embers enhancing those freckles. Dont fret, the light is mine. No problem in sharing since dusk weve shared grains of sand. Excuse my ecstatic behavior All my wanting is in this warmth. This midnight embrace of sensual warmth Its gorgeous, so brilliant. Backseat Blues 1. The sycamore tree pine dawns a waking hour: A silhouetted attrition. Sores scathing white puffy mildew, the cicadas skin tears anew. Inhaling petrichor, dust of old glistening spotlight. 2. My Liver strained from alcoholic tendencies. Skin bathed in the pain, scarred map of the past. Circulatory respiration barely enough. Scattered patters of cognition. Thoughts stray my ecclesiology hurts. 3. If only life would allow simply living, morning brew under chirping tree. Whitman by the lake, freedom for all. Intrigue as high as aspiration. Greed lower than hunger. All of these idealist ideals for the youth left non-corruptible, unscathed no apathy but time wears us all... 4. Towering shadows, darkness too harsh. Settling grey medium. Its a white out blinding uncertainty. Spectators gawk in awe, companions post bail from the grey binding veil. Lucid Dreams I had said, I was living a dream Id never wake up from. Saying it never could make a difference. Still on the path. Streets covered in French tracts

10 Racecar racecar racecars Spelled the same forwards & back. Living a thousand stories with a thousand people while in the end, being a sheer story, none the less. Its a raggedy mess in here, to hell with organizing... where was I? Oh yes, gothic buttresses, holding cracked cleavage rocks, process, process, processing ornament details root of all 3vi1. Hunger wanting/seeking curiosity. Hunger, being a fine spice. Still a story, in the end seemingly a lucid dream to everyone else. BLINK Went to a party, as a viewer. Watching a movie with a projector rarely an actor. Just an instigator Ominous prospector, For when I do nothing, nothing does. When I try to run, I fall. if I walk I go nowhere. When I drink, Im never drunk. When Im drunk, I never drank. If I blink, Ive fallen asleep. If Ive slept I had only blunk. Im full when Ive eaten I havent eaten in days. I go to see twilight tho its mid-morning when I do. Its never evening anymore, night has passed me by. My holy script carved clean, the flask chalked full. This typewriter says more than I, not sure Ive said anything at all. Blacked out there My lids open, Im vision heavy. The mind is weary from the unseen dreams.

11 Ive seen too many nights. Darkness prevailed, I lay orphaned. My friend is pleading sanity. If hes my best Im not far behind. 09/08/2011 (Do we part) Caveman scrawls Tweety & Kimberly Look at that SEAT! Buyer Beware Michelle and Tweety Forever fourever (4)ever JOB ROKS TEMPERature Knocks Phased out Rocks Till Dust & Dusk & Must The room gave off. White Noise, Blasting Ruined my fine tuned hearing. Ear piercing static breached drumming. Excuse me, Maam Dont I know you?

1700W 36000N 4000N 2300N 1800W 1800W Damon via Semen Addisons Child conjured in Irving Park. No, gave my dimes to March. None to spare, pardon me. She paid to sleep here. Pleasurably-Pleased. Rooftop of America beats in measures with prose and cons

12 the draping curtains in light of orangish/blues falling round curves peering down the mountain tops flowing peaks of Colorado orange/purple rooftops to smooth grasslands searching the towering pillars from top to bottoms Ive looked keeping each measure on the rooftop of America Absurdity I wish to read more than I write you crazy harlot, what a paradox, a world with no odes nor prose to those before. Never have we met, your heart could be shining gold, only heard you rambling on one day. Twas a Sunday, a lulling boring passing day. No(a)ught Everything Splatter and splash, Im in this shadow you cast. Far and beyond; combust if I must. Flames, burning twirling brightly. Graffiting skylines, feeding the auroras From Borealis to Australis Grasped still by shadows cast, sploshing and splashing about. Ought naught fight it, nought is all returned. Bending breaking the withering tree What that was, was never me. sing, sing, sing Dictations, dictations, dictations I acquit, opposing the fifth stay quiet I shant! sing little bluebird sing as if winter never came as if fields and meadows have sustained jet through the blue sky fly little bluebird fly for its all you can amend, amend, amend for its all we can flying amongst the cage

13 even the bird is caged to the sky sing little bluebird sing its all you can Living breathing dreams Living countless lives and dying to them countless times you begin to lose grip. Her head on my chest, such soft hair and then Im out of breathe. It feels good, not like suffocating though, the out of breathe after a good work out. Feeling better than ever, compression of the chest. This is the moment, right here, the moment I live for. Tea and peace under the nights sky, pulling her into my breast. Nothing left, silence settles into our bones. Deep down into our souls, a supple tranquility. Our discussions telepathically linked. Not a word ever spoken, just her head to my chest. As if thats all thats left. I smirk, wrapping her weary head ever closer. So many countless lives and dying to the times, gripping to hold this one alive. I wake up, twas a dream. Spies amongst the Wheat Shredding hurricane drained this city. I made way through the veil, it was such an elegant facade. An idle puddle remains, its whats left of your pride. Fleeing from terror, you erect spies amongst the wheat as protectors from the tares. Though, here Im standing, standing within city limits, where eyes seldom rest. In the center of the storm, where there is nothing left. Short & Sweet - Rachel was first and misunderstood - Ari was poor in hindsight, I had forgotten myself - Sophia was convenient yet, necessary - Diana got away - Rachel was childish ambition - All the Sarahs ended the same - Kelly was Kelly, no changing her - Roberta was a usual mistake, had forgotten myself once again - Diana will never be - the trio came and gone, so it goes - Lindsey never connected - Emily the philosophical disaster - Alicia placed an ultimatum - Rae never knew my name - Though, for you unknown Crutch Such a poor soul, wont anyone help you along? Is there nothing better, than some war-torn duality?

14 Some drenched dichotomy soaked by deserts sun. Speaking minds chasm, sweaty and forlorn, yet seldom consoled. Wondering, Oh where, where has that crutch gone? Its never far that damn crutch is never far. Just a passenger on the train, headn' somewhere 1. Starting: The anxious settling stomach all tied in knots tossing, turning, sleepless nights all nerves at ease traveling is settling in these veins and havent yet departed 2. Despite surroundings: When it appears everyone is lying push and pull to pry the underlining meaning no more allegories, poetics nor prose straight truth of what your meaning 3. Shes distracting: Its a cool breeze on the summers day supple rain during a dry heat luscious greens and blues transcend all things but those smiling dimples with breezy brown hairs keep me focused all day 4. Shes irritating: her dazed and confused pale days when all changes mumbled words, mixed in errors one hundred eight degrees where the hell did it go, unsettling 5. Only one for me: Remember that day, we acted married the 25 cent ring, for ten minutes more would give to infinity just for one minute back there Just mixed up confusion and Lord its killn me., Dylan 6. Goin Home:

15 Just passengers on the train headn somewhere Thank God, nowhere but here Headn over Jordan, Im headn home 7. What would you do?: Pick me up Ive fallen while meeting someone new I wonder what youd be thinkn This Ill never know Ill never know 8. Ill stand idle: anxiety resting stomach filled with whiskey and coffee apathetic towards the sleepless nights nerves all shot the minds only at ease traveling Kalamazood - Got the blues, fleeting Kalamazoo Blues White calloused canvas scattered bluffs, caged raving madness bound curving, weeks at a loss. Wednesday morning the avalanche prevailed, cruising frayed composure for the moment. Optometrist revealed a sparrows flight, forthright. The crow fought, bright lights flickered & doves emerged. Reset vision, grey laden waste apathetic persuading onward. Through the VOID, down the rabbit hole, fluffy bunny tail muffled since fluffy white clouds. Dim-days ahead. Calloused sales man aroused by a sale. Purchaser questioning departure, gladly the man calls the toll. Down through that hell hole, is darkness, utter darkness . Bloody brilliant, it is. Slow walks as the demon taunts My every waking hour; insomnia rampant What I have left, seems unsettling Just normality: Except this stigma of insanity

16 Tis Bloody brilliant; considerably overwhelming if only to will One thing. Consistency being the inconsistent nothing more than theories, sooner or later. paying respect to those at rest My every waking hour; voices rampant it appears as though, Im alone as always, its Greek to me. Ill defy the stars to prove it so striving the usual mistake missing the now, the bigger tomorrow is this normality? This stigma and its insanity Hello Hallo, fellow merchant, sit down, ponder a moment, Are we merchandise? Personalization is key., when the day ends numbers proclaim more than time paid. Feed integrity, disavow dem nights, Ill go drink my wine & cork it so, every drop replenishes the soul. Each poem bring clarity. One day Ill leave, Youll leave, Well leave. Well depart from whom we are. It's a matter of when or where. I lied, no matter of where nor when. Thats the scotch talkn. The matter is who you become, Pardon thats the tea brewn out of me. Such beauty transcends these vices. Switching to whiskey in this late hour. Over come not with evil, but the common reality. Taste: A burning warmth set back to drink, We shall see whats next, mi amigo. We shall see indeed.

17 Chicago Days, M ellow Haze. (8/24/11) 1. Monumental decision, everlasting precision, tormented revision. Poor Allen set adrift. Sought solace, the rift claimed more than ever. OH, Holy Allen crave no longer the hunger is a burden, such wanting is a temptation. Speak like Oscar, resisting anything but temptation. Brought upon soul mutilation, salvation in flux, in dark times just needed the bucks. Were outta luck, Allen. 2. All the people reading papers I feel a lacking for contemporary society as if solitude is far from the normality, shall I persevere? 3. Click, Clack, click textn Jumbled headphones blastn Amplified self lessened us 4. Brown line to the loop Boop, beep- be bop R2 - chasing machine, What!? 5. Lines-Lines-beverage-Lines Askew In view, masses perpetuate halls. Ive lost my view. Trash can Chinese man, little English speaking man. Lead my way down the hall, Right Left Long and over. Right hauled down the line. Spaniard, explained my way homeward bound. The china man only knew the destined plain, not where I came. 6. Moisturize me, new feelings: Wibbly wobbly flop and drop. Dried Bones its notta, but a farce. Mind clearing technique, impossibility. Tis closest Ive been, closest Ive been.

18 Wording... Darkened Riverdale Avenue, where a shooting occurred twelve days ago, were a block away. Realizing the reality, little white poetry boy. Big city limits nowhere near home. Bigger issues then coyotes among hens. But thats alright, says a man passn. Feeln the aura of souls collidin. All aboard, north bound once again, my new cohort smells of cheese-its. Hunger tickles me, Pain is a word much too strong. July 1st, 2011 Dear Tree, You are an It to me. A Thou you shall never be. Ya bastard, Tree! Love, Me 23rd psalm The World is my oyster I shall cherish it; I shall enjoy lush green pastures. Lead there beside still waters; rejuvenating thy soul. Leading me in paths of righteousness under the shady pines. And though I shall journey through the VOID in which death lingers on, I fear not; For the universe provides; These pastures, these people, these circumstances comfort me.

19 Perhaps granted with good karma, mercy shall follow for as many days Im granted; and I shall dwell in the house of the lord, for now. Plaid Dharma Hustling brown haze passn by, cattle movin on down the line. Bustling from one place to the next, noise piercing - the lingering silence holds nagging. Attention averted: Shining plaid elegance, an aura of Buddha glimmering smiling sunshine peace. Delicately delivering a piece to me: crossing trains in grey sneakers. Brown matted hair pressed straw organic natural beauty. Such a fleeting moment, such a coy smile. Peering mirrors passing image less breezes warmth is all around. Feeding to keep moving on, towering inferno has much more, once you opened up to the world around. Tea, coffee, cold brew in the evening, dusk settles with meditation rampant through the night. IN HIND SIGHT A disciple of the wall & A wall of the disciple Gave it all, turning back from stench & grime seeping from pores, drenched in sweat. It never left My wall, my god, my biblical story & an enlightenment in forestry. Im not the dirty grime of reason, Slowly eroding in time. Neither are you. Still children of bright mourning hikes Naked dips in streams, Cold rock walls amongst friends, A built guild of Elohim creation. Tying Crying

20 Prying We climb the orange sunset diligently. Sullen Load Shore blew a breeze inland, California, Coloradah, Chicagah, where the abode awaited a sign. Expecting such heavens, a pleasant whisper, Newtons falling apple. Unappealing calling, made way drifting passing virtuous nothing, calm acceptance. Its not what it seems. Appearing dream-like: city rats squabble never timid, never shy, always nigh. Pesky things, bobbing, listening, judging vultures. Breach the walls, you shant Reach the heart, blew the chance fickle women lone deceiver Im a(lone) ranger shocking relief, lake effect draft passed way. Dignified rest, Find your belief, a peace. Numbing procedure; awake for it all. detaching strings. tracked to hell and back. Blood spurts during the caravan journey, tumble weed infested patches back to west Texas. Where everythings bigger, extremes heightened. Surgeon put me under, the dream ends, Ive awaken. Shining as Stars Baffling this greatest questioning Subjected to such ongoing turmoil beyond my own known; fear and trembling Shining like stars, streaming through cosmos A rigorous strenuous depravity of salvation. Rejoice in perseverance, blameless- no longer faceless the crooked children: Fully anxious Fully doubting in humble reverence to Thee

21 Though I am lost, may never be found Always running Always laboring Forever poured and empty, Fear and trembling beset me, horror has overwhelmed me. Seized in awe of your questioning. Thine eyes opening. Visions, Visions, ReVisions: Traversing Versus Flashing red blue lights bright in the night sky. I don't know why. Smelling bacon as James Deans belting brawn and masculine mischief. Dean exchanging looks with Sal, changing roles, seamless. Rules were meant for the breaking. Cops walk with our "Filth" on their soles. Fast forward, Sunday morning of September 24th, that wasn't the date at all. Such a lulling boring day, Sunday yet blessed none the less. Let us not forget. Unorthodox praising, fulfilling joyous occasion. James Dean, belting yet again from Arlo's lips. Rambunctious congregation, no congestion here. Play it frilly haired sister, enjoy it my dear friends. I'll be quiet, till Alter call. The crazy burrito calls out, we answer. Singing a tune, praying a liturgy of traversing tales, traveling prayers and comical reenactments from Chaplin's tramp. Deans' in the 50's, OH! That's where we've been? Could you deep fry this cheesecake? Excellent. Beautiful. Visions of the future & present & past before... Anne wearing leather,

22 Arlo in plaid red upon the floor flipping vinyl at 3 in the morn. "the nights ever so young." Fumbling for tea, she beat us to it. "Feeling as young as the night that's present." Yawping into the string theorists rational, through things done and undone. "You smell of coffee and cigarettes, what a lucky day, aye?" This moment shall pass, strings undone... please, Don't go... please stick around, captivate my thoughts. Take my thoughts captive. These visions of past, present and future. Visions, visions, visions, revisions... Self-gratifying chaos, in which I accept but does it accept me?

23 Living breathing (finished) Laying upon the grass, hidden from any company passing by. The garage and car keep a good cover. Anyhow, if anyone is looking Im only a mere earshot away. Stargazing is magnificent with tea, these stars never really change, typically the same unlike home, which grows ever more distant, each time I travel back. Lost in time and space, time skips forward as in a dream. Quickly jumping to my feet to see, something changed. Appears a truck is here, a security truck. Must be a visitor for Arlo. Also, my motorcycle is moved. Deciding I should just lay back down, drift once again. Taking a sip, a girls voice resounds by asking for me. Casually arising, like a dream I arrive at the truck almost instantly. Its Molly, how could I forget? She had my cousin today. Sensing an issue I bring my cousin inside, lay her to rest on the couch. My attention averts to Molly, all my senses, feeling unrest. Molly, come lay next to me. Have some tea. Living countless lives and dying to them countless times you begin to lose grip. Her head on my chest, such soft hair and then Im out of breathe. It feels good, not like suffocating, the out of breathe after a good work out. Feeling better than ever, compression of the chest. This is the moment, right here, the moment I live for. Tea and peace under the nights sky, pulling her into my breast. Nothing left, silence settles into our bones. Deep down into our souls, a supple tranquility. Our discussions telepathic. Not a spoken word to speak of, only her head to my chest. As if thats all thats left. I smirk, wrapping her weary head ever closer. So many countless lives and dying to the times, gripping to hold this one alive. I wake up, twas a dream. Losing everything and just maybe, gaining another eternity. Poem in praise of a future wife Poem I am rewriting: Poem in praise of my Husband By: Diane DI Prima Supposing we lived together I doubt it'd be easy With sudden dips of behavior and emotional twists between privacy & publicity Consistent pride while weeping between your bosom in bed as you tried to sleep And you interrupting me in the middle of the many poems Did I buy the bus pass? the time you stopped a poem In the middle of Coloradah mountains & passed Nebraska, Dylan singn',

24 the whole world singn' in me The triumph of revolutionary freedom About to write it down, then you you say something about the orator So those thoughts sailed on. But we cling to one another as if each thought the other was the raft and she adrift alone, as in the mud house Not big enough, the walls pouring down around us, a fine dusting rain counteracting the good, high air stuffing our nostrils. Hanging our pictures of several worlds: Olivet Nazarene, & windy city Chicago posters, set out our folksy dishes, glasses of wine, hammering parchment diagrams into the abode we stumble thru silence into each others gut Blunders thru from one wrong to the next Like children who snuck out for rooftop nights As if the roof floats away, & they gaze upon the stars About which they know nothing, to find out Where they are going. And Im free Im free, free as a bird free Free no underwear free Flop where I like, Commando free! Bottle of wine free, Fresh joint twilight night free. Wildly running mourning hour riverbed dreaming freedom. Freedom of Saint Francis preaching to birds On a mid-summers dream mellow haze free Shallow as the stream maybe, My heart beats, My joy an ocean deep.