Individual Sovereign Will Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Said the Individual Sovereign Will:
give me more space
not freedom just
for freedom just
not necessarily more power yields
State must be smaller,
Individual Sovereign Will greater.
The glass of the Individual Sovereign Level
must rise in level
in as direct proportion to the lowering of liquid
in the glass of the State.
Hear, my Monsignor, this must be clear:
Centuries that come are shrouded with
all this.
When time comes
All one needs is to take off the shroud.

waters
cunning
they
sing
prophet-like
these
crystalline
clear
prophets
they
sing
Let
the
Individual
grow
and
in
as
direct
proportion
the
State
decrease.

The Trumpet rose and said:
'Make the Individual Sovereign Will
more and more protagonist:
that be the mechanics'

Chanson, cantilena, chant
in repetition
the sweet notes burst
come to fruition.
La, la, la, la, la.

The waters dance
For history they see writ
evolving day by day
though
I see not
So tiny
It be imperceptible for me
drowsing into the indifference
of prejudice and
habit.
La, la, la, la, la.

Verse wants fashion
Aslovely women:
But no,
So women are modest
And
Being child-bearing and
More
They ring all sacred.
La, la, la, la, la.

Come!
Bring the russet breasted bird
And the mixed white and blue
Of another bird
A yellow-green bird mixed with
Darkened plumes.

For green be the waters
Eddying
For sacred be the waters
After the sprinkling:
From humble language
Sweeter it became
Evolved
To lingua franca.
It was not afraid to move,
Nay,
So determined.
La, la, la, la, la.

Bring me the mood of singing
hear the hiss of alliterations
and the sweet tunes of repetitions
bring me
bring me
the waters that darkened
yesterday
have cut their chains
and smile and shine
early.
la, la, la, la, la.

bring me in the mood
let thinking accompany the
lyre
and
every word to whet or
stream of words
with candied desire
give me
bring me.

the water-wall was huge
that Moses sprung
when the seas opened:
so word by word
grows
the stealth of verse and
verse
song, chanson, incantation.

beneath the phantom lights
and the weak moon
there silhouetted against
the dark
there lay
tombs graves and coffins
all
bristling
with
the
skeletons' rattling.
O come away!
O come away!
The moon
and most of stars
behind a posse of
clouds
be hiding.

there was a Figure -
colorless except
black
in the dark setting
with its head in
its hands
bending.
Of life the Figure
thought and how
we strive and puff
every day by day
and then be dust?
Of these it thought and meditated?
Of the goods that we 'own'
by the 'laws' and that
we be in separation
at our fading?
Of how there was on Earth
A man who strove for Immortality
but oblivion cut him?
Or else?
Whatever it thought
the Figure bending
through most of night
it stood motionless save
for the Dawn and vanishing.
la, la, la, la, la.

through the arrows of light
from the distant burning stars
and the weak moon
there were particles to-night
ah! Earth's rotating!
Yet
with her rotate so many
that on the thought's spur
I forgot:
I looked at the wide heavens
immense
and asked myself:
How long this thought and
thought?
How long?
How long?
through the arrows of light
from the distant burning stars
and the weak moon
there were particles to-night