The Quiet Sovereign
by Christopher Haywood
2 October 2026
A thunderous speech can fill the space,
And shake the rafters, loud and proud,
Directing every turned-up face,
To sway the court and move the crowd.
It claims the air, it claims the hall,
With ringing words that heavily fall—
A passing wave that fills it all,
Then fades into a hollow sigh.
Yet when the bluster breaks away,
And heavy stillness settles in,
A deeper presence comes to stay,
Beneath the quiet, past the din.
For noise can rule the physical space,
And capture every wandering eye,
But silence meets you face to face,
Where no conviction fits a lie.
The loud voice commands the room;
The clear silence commands the mind.
Wasn’t this new order well described
In some fat books we barely read
But even though, we used to cite
Some lines, as if we’d learned from that
In scheme of things I don’t exist
Conceptualized, generalized
Abstracted for the record sheet
Intentionally set aside
I’m digitized by skin and eye
This could have made a better sense
If I’d be individualized
Not mixed with anybody else
I’m not a nation, not a country
Even my accident of birth
Don’t give them right to bother me
With what they want me to put forth
I do belong to what I choose
It’s my free will, one can’t deny
Just second thoughts I'm used to use
Speak fair enough of who am I
The way to the heart of Truth
Is not through establishing what it is
But only by establishing what it is not;
Not this, not this, not this
And so on to infinity.
Proving a negative is possible.
It is what’s left when all the positive
Assertions have been peeled away;
Not that, not that, not that
Until all that’s left is simply what is.
(9/30/26)
ex is exiting a soul
ex is exiting a building block
a soul is a building block
build is building a soul
build is building a building block
a soul exit a soul
a soul exit the building block of a soul
a soul is a cycle of a soul
a soul is a limit of a cycle
the building block of a cycle,
is the building block of a soul
ex is exiting a limit of a soul
ex is exiting a limit of a cycle
exiting a limit is exiting a cycle
ex is exiting a precious soul
a precious block,a precious soul
a soul is precious to a soul
a soul is precious to a building block of a soul
time withstand time
time withstand a block of time
time withstand a block of a soul
Those lucky by the place of birth
Condemn those who were not
Born lucky too, so in reverse
They hate those lucky ones a lot
Ain’t this a perfect harmony
In the best of all possible worlds
They’re gonna kill me, to feel free
If I don’t kill them first
Hey you philosophers in your
Big libraries behind the chair
Enlightening how to tax me more
Express your little care
Your ramblings are advocacy
Of those who sign your pay
You’re playing aristocracy
Directing what to think and say
But when the demos gets too loud
You’re giving interviews
Showing outrage against the crowd
That tends to change its views
But you don’t like to be involved
The best of worlds must find
Some nannies, to protect the old
From their own worried minds.
Night draws its veil on all I see
No need to tell what differs — I am free
The clamor of the world has slipped away
At last, peace comes to close the day
Why guess at those who hide from light?
We need only guard our souls inside.
At least the flesh it calls home is still young
Is that not the luck for which all have longed?
The God of Darkness keeps him in his care,
Beneath a single lamp's soft glare.
He drinks the quiet joy that senses bring
In these calm days where no harsh winds sting
No loneliness can find him there
For in the night, beyond despair
He finds, where shadows gently fall
A reason to live beyond it all
A dapper squirrel in a top hat sat
upon a throne of porcelain white,
amber leaves descending around him
with all the ceremony of autumn.
In his small paws rested
a roll of toilet paper~
an object so ordinary
most creatures would never pause
to consider it.
Yet there he sat,
moonless-eyed and thoughtful,
turning it slightly,
pondering its mysteries.
Perhaps he wondered
why do humans create such things.
Perhaps he mistook it
for an oversized pale winter acorn
that had somehow forgotten
how to become a tree.
Or perhaps,
being wiser than most squirrels,
he had discovered
what humans often overlook:
that every object,
no matter how common,
contains a story.
The leaves understood.
They drifted downward
through shades of russet and gold,
surrendering themselves
to another season.
The squirrel nodded gravely.
The toilet paper remained unexplained.
The leaves continued falling.
And somewhere in the gathering dusk,
it seemed entirely possible
that wisdom begins
when one pauses long enough
to become curious
about the absurd.
What is philosophy,
after all,
but staring at an ordinary thing
until it becomes extraordinary.
We're reflections
of an infinitely
reflecting mirror
Our seemingly finite
projections cast shadows
both near & far
Know that you are
everything that is
& will be
Everything you see
is a part of me
and likewise
Eyes seeing
the same lie
that cover proof
of the whole
Individual bodies
with different souls
exploring timelines
& wormholes
You're a divine tool
not just worm food
even if you do
return to dust
You are stardust
composed on this
material plane
Ethereal really
but still being
weighed down by
your physical pain
Transcend the game
& take your place
amongst the stars
above the clouds that
bring rain
You came for more
than locked doors
to rooms you're
supposed to roam
Remember this is
your house
but not your home
indefinitely
Enjoy this melody
but tune into your
heavenly vibe
a bit more
See what's in store
once you fully
open your mind
That's a door they
can't keep closed
when you decide you
want to see what's inside
I shall not live to see changes for the better
But those who do will not notice them
Just as I did not notice the changes
Having taken them for granted
And yet, previous generations
Could only dream of such changes
Well, at least about some of the better ones
That have taken place in my lifetime
And even then, they hardly indulged themselves
In such irresponsible illusions
But I merely wish to say
That I care nothing for the future,
For the simple reason
That I won’t be there
Of course, this is selfish
But no more selfish than having a body
And a soul that belongs only to me
As part of some greater whole
I am of no interest, even to myself
Let alone to others
I have no need for lofty abstractions
To prove my existence
And find it valuable in itself.
To pick up a gun or pick up a red rose
I have done both
Just in case disharmony or love comes my way
Sometimes I fall deep down.
I'm in a hole,
You're looking in.
Climb out you say.
Silly boy,
One does not simply climb out.
There are paths I must take,
Lessons I must learn,
Thoughts I must think,
Before I get out.
Eternity is dull.
That's something to mull,
and I would pursue it
if I had time to do it.
All hail the sovereign individual
The one and only
Self who is themself
Not their race, or sex, nationality
Or any other kind of identity
Just themselves, being themselves
Being consistently what they are
Even when they change.
Hail the individual,
Hold them high, give them air
Because they are an endangered breed.
(9/28/26)
Paths of ogival arches lead my sight
In one tunnel-drive of light
To behold bridges, seven in number,
As they straddle the tenebrous walkway we lumber,
Man and beast, towards expected glorious dawn.
Rock-solid, the bridges stand firm but drawn.
Here and now,
No matter where or when
Everything so solid,
Everything so ephemeral,
A perfect construct
Of perfect clarity
Giving us exactly what we need
Regardless that
That need is meaningless
Inherently immaterial
Both in substance and content
This dream day and night
Always
Passing us by
Whether we know it
Or not.
(9/26/26)
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system, thought, outlook, theory, viewpoint, thinking, idea, wisdom, ideology, attitude, truth, doctrine, logic, tenet, reasoning, view, conception, axiom, reason, values, aesthetics, beliefs, rationalism, ontology, convictions, metaphysics,