Emmanuel George Cefai Poems

‘Times without Limit, ' muttered the Monsignor
Turned round:
‘Times without Limit'
...

‘Yes my Monsignor; yes,
All of us, all of Things
without Limit be going down in their genealogy
and even going further in other direction.
...

as with a chisel write I
in my hands holding every verse
nay every word:
I must be the chiseler of words
...

They passed, they passed, they passed
Grey darkening
On the walls sliding:
The Miter wearing had they on their heads
...

Thought winds and winds
The coiled windings
To unfold times will take
Into the pincers of the martyrdom
...

The Mystic was relative; so be it!
There was Pain in the soul that had to
Choose
At the crossroads of the multi-furcation
...

Clogged on the wheel
The corner of the ghosts be here
Here in this dark
Of
...

The ghosts
Here they play violins
But no sound make
...

Stellar in a night of dark
And
Teardrops going down
Down the face of heavens immense.
...

There be such dark
You catch it with your hand
You seize it in your fists
...