Tuesday, August 25, 2009

The Grand Inquisitor: The Temptation of Christ

The Bolsheviks in triumph o’er the flames,
Ensuring that the common man is fed,
A stone among Israeli sands remains;
As Jesus offers heaven’s truer bread.
A pistol fired in the new revolt
To free the young for sex and gender roles;
The Savior leaves the angels, no new cult
Will force the men to give away their souls.
The swastika amid the dead debris,
To force all men to serve the Nazi ruse;
The ground unsullied by the Savior’s knee,
Allowing men the liberty to choose.
While Man attempts to solve a child’s need,
God elevates the sinners He has freed.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 24, 2009

Monday, August 24, 2009

Facades of Majesty

The man who seeks his own eternal fame
May not have been accepted in his youth,
And those who have repressed desire’s flame,
May search for Love or Goodness or for Truth.
Psychologists explain the goals of men,
Illuminating baser drives beneath-
They substitute the cure for the amen,
Removing ancient glories like false teeth.
Perhaps they are correct in their accounts-
And men cannot desire noble things,
Unless they channel from ignoble founts,
Desires for the mean and lesser things.
But if the love of glory be disproved,
Then should the great desires be removed?
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 24, 2009

Sunday, August 23, 2009

The Problem of Sin

From bank accounts to dens of opium,
We seek the goods that satisfy the soul.
Yet we must be pathetic or quite dumb,
Because we never reach our final goal.
We know that love and service fill the need,
For ecstasy requires sacrifice,
And yet we still perform the foul deed,
We cheat and steal, pretending to be nice.
We know that love will satisfy the need,
But we cannot believe it to be so,
We’d rather sow in cunning and in greed,
To reap in women, wine, and filthy dough.
So faith alone can save us from our sin,
To spark the love, reforming us within.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 23, 2009

Friday, August 21, 2009

What's in a name?

What makes a stone a stone, a tree a tree?
An accident of nature, blinding chance,
A tapestry and one majestic dance,
Or can the human tongue create the sea?
A rose by other names might smell as sweet,
But it, like other roses, sparks romance,
We know it is a rose at every glance,
Yet we might change it by our mind’s decree.
Were we to name the rose an apple tree,
Perhaps we’d see a greener shade of red,
But it is still a rose, however said,
No matter how we see it differently.
We see the rosiness in roses red,
The universe is woven with such thread.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 21, 2009

Thursday, August 20, 2009

The Law of Entropy

Majestic pillars, monuments of stone,
Arise beneath the masters of the earth,
As justice, balance, strength and wisdom birth
A wonder of the gods, for men a throne.
Yet time does not leave miracles alone,
With rushing water, drowning living’s worth,
Eroding human grandeur on the earth,
‘Tis Fate, a master hated and unknown.
He casts eternal souls to wail and groan,
Lamenting wonders broken and deceased,
With frenzied parties and a famine feast,
They dance amid the ruins of a throne.
The Master in the Heavens mocks the beast,
Reviving those who listen to the Priest.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 20, 2009

To Cure the Soul…

The blazing flame of passion burns the heart,
The cold despair of mourning chills the soul,
The icy pang of guilt burns like a coal,
And none escapes the blaze of Cupid’s dart.
Yet brilliant color soothes the spirit’s art,
And music is a refuge for the soul,
It seems the senses dull and yet console,
To soothe the pain, force memories apart.
Yet soon the senses too begin to smart,
As cooling water chills you to the bone,
And warming fire burns the icy stone,
All suffering refuses to depart.
This circle’s very climax is a groan,
The answer is a cross before a throne.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 19, 2009

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The Majesty of Words

Creation is a melody of sound,
A song where tree and forest harmonize,
As music gives imagination eyes,
The Word created sky and sea and ground.
Yet poetry has ever been renowned,
The music cloaked in conversation’s guise,
Erupts in song, though hidden in disguise,
Revealing truth and beauty, ‘tis profound.
Yet laymen also speak a certain sound,
That readily relates to human eyes,
Bereft of music’s pull, and muses’ prize,
It fails to rise to majesty renowned.
Each breath majestic in its proper place,
Our hearts prefer the sounds that speak of grace.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 18, 2009

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

The Conquest of Nature

Majestic mountain peaks pierce blue and white,
The ocean of the air breathes thunder clouds,
The pistons of the deep break earthen mounds,
And ocean breezes bury mountain’s might.
Poor human hands blast caverns left and right,
They fear the thunder, silencing the sounds,
They flee collapsing tempests, rolling mounds,
And run from water mountains at their height.
What man has conquered nature like a king?
What general of math has cowed the storm?
Nay, humans flee to houses safe and warm,
And claim to conquer nature’s mighty sting.
One man alone has bested nature’s might,
He gave the tempest calm, the blind their sight.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 17, 2009

Sunday, August 16, 2009

The Storm of Ignorance

The tempest blasts the edges of the earth,
The sky itself disturbs all nature’s might,
The oceans burn and close all paths in sight,
And human plans shed their tremendous worth.
Advisors kill careers with scornful mirth,
They praise autonomy, the guiding light,
While I do not possess the perfect sight,
To see potential plans and judge their worth.
Yet God prepares my spirit for the fight,
And pride has long imprisoned my desire,
My future plans are not the secret fire,
But He will lead me to eternal light.
Careers are stolen, and are known to rust,
I seek a higher work, in God I trust.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 15, 2009

Saturday, August 15, 2009

True Glory

Napoleon survives within the grave,
Inscribed in glory, monuments of stone,
Inspiring young Frenchmen to be brave,
Remembered from old Clio’s noble throne.
Yet some do not survive from ages past,
And yet they strive for virtue all the same,
Some brave misfortune with a valor vast,
To love and serve, and earn a silent fame.
Yet glory does not live in halls of stone,
It reigns in majesty from far above,
For ‘tis not money, fame, or battles won,
But sanctity and virtue, holy love.
True glory rests not in the halls of men,
Beatitude exceeds their fallen ken.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 14, 2009

Thursday, August 13, 2009

The Fire Pyramid

As flames ignite the driest wood and grass,
Enchanting it with nature’s passioned blaze,
So man must dry himself, throughout his days,
Preparing for a love that none surpass.
As heat may kindle embers in the grass,
Awakening the strength of passion’s rays,
So she must touch his eyes, a foreign gaze,
He burns not for himself, but for the lass.
As oxygen feeds fire, as a gas,
Providing an environment ablaze,
So fate or providence must weave its maze,
To fuse the souls like powder into glass.
As firestorms fail never to amaze,
The three combine, and triumph in the blaze!
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 13, 2009

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Ascetic Hedonism

The Buddha sees a world of ugly joys,
A satisfaction never reaching need,
And so, forsaking pleasure in his creed,
He turns within to find an inner poise.
The Hedonists see beauty in the noise,
A satisfaction greater than their need,
Embracing sin, they do an evil deed,
But seek beyond the self for higher joys.
Yet both confront a problem ever new,
The goods of pleasure cannot be denied,
And yet they sweep their lover in the tide,
Divorcing him from pleasures good and true.
We seek true pleasure not in lust or pride
For blessed joy we trust The Holy Guide.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 12, 2009

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Love is Calminian

Did Paolo put Francesca in a sack?
Or Romeo imprison Juliet?
Or did they sing of what we ever lack,
A joy untasted, passion’s silhouette?
Tis true, a wooer must awake the wooed,
And breathe a newer life into her bones,
Yet when she lives, we must not then conclude,
That he will take her even when she groans.
No, he will value her decision yet,
And give his rapt attention to her call,
As Romeo to silent Juliet,
He cannot dance if she deserts the ball.
So God awakens us and woos us still,
Until we live anew, or have our will.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 3, 2009

Monday, August 10, 2009

The Easy Life is Not Worth Living

The hammer hits the anvil, stroke on stroke,
The pick dislodges monsters of the earth,
As human muscle fells the mighty oak,
The final threshold breaks, a new rebirth!
The burning flames of virtue form a man,
His brothers sharpen him with every word,
His actions rise atop where they began,
To fly on wings like freedom’s noble bird!
Yet indolence draws humans to the grave.
With food and drink and merriment alone,
They cannot love or serve, are never brave,
More motionless than monuments of stone.
So heark and hear that ease is not the goal,
For virtue, truth, and service form the soul.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-May 30, 2009

Sunday, August 9, 2009

The Middle Way

As virtue constitutes the noble act,
And character arises from its vote,
So choosing one, the human makes a pact,
Becoming what he’d chosen to promote.
Deficiency degrades as excess rules,
Above the demons, man is less than God,
So he must rise above ignoble fools,
And bow before a higher ruling rod.
Indulgence desecrates his noble form,
Degrading life and salting virtue’s seeds,
While Pride defeats desire to reform,
And strips Nobility from all his deeds.
The path of virtue, narrow straight and true,
Fulfills the ancient and is ever new.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-May 29, 2009

Saturday, August 8, 2009

To Brave a Newer World

Embrace your dreams, oh child-heart renewed!
Cast off the horrid burdens of the past,
For I will give you money, health and food,
A stimulus that shall forever last!
You shall exult within your ecstasy,
As melodies and pleasures sate your need,
Indulgence will replace your industry,
A better high than beer or dope or weed!
So generous, we’ll give you thoughts to think,
And nurture language with a watchful eye,
Our protégés shall fornicate and drink,
While words against them are a hateful crime.
For Liberty you never need to fight,
Enjoying it, instead, shall be your right!
-Tyler William O’Neil
-May 27, 2009

Friday, August 7, 2009

The Deeper Symphony

Without restraint all passion waxes cold,
For he must lay the wood before the flame;
If sparks ignite a twig, ‘tis not the same,
As pyramids of arbors burning bold!
Disorder is a terror to behold,
The mark eludes the man with broken aim,
For vision’s bind when focused on a dame,
And Truth obscure to spirits uncontrolled.
Adventure calls the master of the soul,
For he designs an epic from the flame,
Constructing for his tapestry a frame,
Investing romance for a tale of gold.
So wax your ears from hot cacophony,
Surrender to the deeper symphony.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 7, 2009

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Beati Mundo Corde

To him all things are relative indeed,
For he does not relate to certain truth,
Revolting with the fickleness of youth,
Embracing man or woman for his need.
The wiser fool acknowledges the deed,
It soon repels and sickens him, forsooth,
And yet, behind him, evil seeks the youth,
Aspiring to wake his dormant greed.
Pure sancitity reviles such a deed,
Aware that sin obscures the seeker's eye,
Below, he turns his vision to the sky,
And learns the secret Truth of every creed.
Man uses his own heart to be the eye,
The pure in heart can see beyond the sky.
-Tyler William O'Neil
-August 6, 2009

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The Middle Way

In modern flesh the ancient foe attacks,
Ensnaring all “minorities” in one,
Romanticism lurks behind our backs,
Dethroning Reason’s order and the Son.
Yet reason loves the world and not its Lord,
Adoring vicious passions with its heart,
Despising charity to make its hoard,
Surrendering the mind to money’s art.
As Aristotle, we must love the mean,
And mercy mixed with justice must prevail,
Awarding industry the golden green,
And giving the unfortunate their bail.
Thus shall we honor He who reigns above,
Establish Justice and forgive with Love.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 10, 2009

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

The People’s Self-Restraint

As Draco, Solon, Jefferson perceived,
Society will thrive beneath the law,
If just and wise provisions, undeceived,
Will regulate the passions of the mob.
As Tocqueville stated well, the age arrives:
Aristocrats adopt Democracy,
As throne and altar fall, the people thrives,
Yet now we fight a different tyranny.
This age holds promise and debauchery,
And law must now restrain the latter half,
For men with reason gain nobility,
As long as Justice rules on their behalf.
The people’s rule holds no inherent wrong,
But temperance must direct their passion’s song.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 3, 2009

Monday, August 3, 2009

The Passion of Abstinence

The beauty here before my eyes deceives,
She cannot in all likelihood be mine,
For while her presence be a fragrant breeze,
Her soul must complement my soul’s design.
The maiden yet still hidden tells the truth,
For God has destined for us n’ere to part,
So struggling against the rage of youth,
I must prepare myself for Cupid’s dart.
Which love is truly passionate by far,
The one that loves the present girl alone,
Or he that perseveres the longest yard,
To find the star, his destiny to know?
So abstinence cannot be truly bleak,
It fuels the love that all immortals seek.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 2, 2009

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Professional Humility

With clumsy feet I stand upon the brink,
Where certainty collapses into mist,
I fear that I shall soon begin to sink,
And taste regret for all that I have missed.
This fallen world says follow passion’s call,
Fulfill desire and give spirit rest,
Yet passion is a mystery to all,
And of its fickleness they all attest.
Utility seems more reliable,
Yet if it lacks desire’s ceaseless flame,
It follows man’s opinion- fallible,
And makes success itself a very shame.
I venture on the calling of my heart,
May faith and love perfect the Master’s art.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 2, 2009

Saturday, August 1, 2009

The Golden Bridge

Warm Ceres cultivates all nature’s art,
Cupidian desires, Venus sates,
While Jupiter may rule the sun-god’s cart,
All mortals must surrender to the Fates.
The iron bars of law condemn the soul,
Yet whips and rusty nails may set men free,
Rejecting comforts for the highest goal,
The saint embraces God’s immensity.
The artistry of nature follows Fate,
That maker, cold and merciless, destroys,
And less exists to match its empty weight,
Than in philosophies of men and boys.
So which is dark, and which contains the light?
The golden bridge spans chasms of the night.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 1, 2009