In Praise of Christ

Which man or hero does the goddess praise,
To whom, harsh Clio, do your trumpets rise?
No god, for empty soar the royal skies.
Upon whose mortal image shall we gaze?

Our poets clash each universe in words
A symphony of noise transports the heart.
Yet silent lies that harmonizing art,
Which animates the mountains and the birds.

The sun whose chariot anoints the sky,
The cloak of winter melting into spring,
The rosebuds and the roaring rivers sing,
The lyric Cosmos revels to reply.

Whom first to praise but Progress who appoints
The human will to govern all the earth,
Who, from the very moment of his birth,
Evolves to dignity his bones and joints.

Who grew from ash and dust a universe,
And stirred a soup, the birthing womb of life,
With Chance, his mistress, nay perhaps his wife,
He spins an epic poem, time the verse.

With them shall we sing Liberty and Love,
For any joy we know that it takes two,
The human will, unfettered, sets the true,
With rockets we have cowed the skies above.

I sing of Darwin and of Galilei,
Who loosed the bonds of magic on the mind,
And sought the laws of nature, it to bind.
The superstitious past has passed away.

Their minds released the prisoned will of man,
The flow of human greatness burst the dikes,
No flash of Jove the shrewd inventor strikes,
As ships ply oceans, wings the heavens span.

Now Washington and Jefferson I praise,
The Founder and the peaceful first reform,
Grand Lincoln and Frank Roosevelt adorn,
New Deals and unity from honest Abe.

And with Columbus shall I chant the deeds
Of Carnegie and Custer, brave in heart,
Rags rise to riches, valiant when the dart
Of natives scalped the passion that he bleeds.

We sing of Davy Crockett in the wood,
And Eisenhower, leader of the troops,
The unknown man whose wife’s head ever droops,
And William James, who preached pragmatic good.

Yet fame of pastors blossoms as a tree,
A star from Bethlehem proclaims good news,
A humble God, himself with man to fuse,
To loosen pride and evil’s tyranny.

Oh Son and Savior of all humankind,
Conceived of God, you shall receive the crown,
For on a cross you bled, without renown,
To heal the sick, give vision to the blind.

That man, when he will conquer all the earth
Which threatens Heaven, with a triumph just,
And batter down her hubris to the crust
With penitence and mercy, second birth,

The Cosmos with right order will he judge.
You shake its vast foundations to the core,
You banish those who challenge you in war,
Forgiving penitents, without a grudge.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-February 19, 2010

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

The Answer to Suffering

A thousand evils rage upon the Earth,
Despair bursts both the tongue and grape of joy,
And though each instant holds tremendous worth,
No satisfaction meets desire’s ploy.
Vain science seeks to urge the pleasure on,
To overtake desire’s tyranny,
Yet ev’ry satisfaction soon is gone,
And Man is left in bleak despondency.
Pure meditation strangles passion’s hold,
Restraining all desire to its death,
The pain removed, so follows close the gold,
As meaning dies in passion’s final breath.
Submission is alone the perfect course,
For glory lies within the pain’s divorce.
-Tyler William O’Neil
March 10, 2009

Law: the Scientific Boredom

At Jericho they circled walls of stone,
With risen staff they saw the ocean rise,
And yet they doubted not the flesh and bone,
But marveled at the God who ruled the skies.
At Bethlehem the Cause became effect,
At Calvary their very Maker died,
And yet for Caesar did they genuflect,
Refusing to, in charity, confide.
Yet when an apple falls toward the earth,
And when a rock makes cities into straw,
They trust their very senses for the truth,
Proclaiming that these constitute a law.
Men trust their power, doubting all beside,
So faith and wonder bow before their pride.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 22, 2009

XIX Mater aut Era?

(Mother or Mistress)
The breath of power on the silent air-
She whispers with the wind and shrouds the night.
With mighty mist she flits a form so fair,
Betraying bounteous beauty to my sight!
My passion flares to see a lovely lass,
My spirit spirals speedily to her,
Yet this empiric maiden minces class,
Invented pulchritude, mechanic myrrh.
From age to age, men follow Her allure,
With Reason they seduce Her steady grace,
A masked affair, which ever will endure,
Until they look their master in the face!
Yet if, in heady haste, he waits to pray,
This silent secret sin shall pass away.
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit Dies XXI Octobribus, Anno Domini MMVII

VIII Bellum Tacitum

(The Silent War)
Oh, when and where have men of virtue gone?
Their footsteps died away an age ago,
We strain to hear their noble fading song,
While rising up the banner of its foe.
That noblest excuse for lechery-
The artistry and pleasure of the base
Does ever hail that grand debauchery,
The beauty that is shallow in its haste.
Pale art is not alone in its attempt,
Cruel science holds its standard higher still.
The works of Man do ever seem unkept,
And power over nature boosts his will.
The artistry and virtue are at war,
Indulgence and the gloried days of yore.
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit dies XXVII Iunii, Anno Domini MMVII

II Scire Non Scire Cur Est

(To Know Is Not To Know Why)
While science is the cure for many ills,
It answers not the fundamental “why?”
That query set by Grand Eternal Quills
Is questioned now and will be by and by.
What purpose has a strand of DNA,
If not to be the building-block of life?
But why this is to be brings great dismay,
When such a goal is not applied to life.
The purposes which set our reaching goals
Are not derived from how the body works.
But rather they must land upon our souls,
Delivered by Philosophy through Works*.
No scientific thought can claim to say
Why Man must live his life from day to day.
- Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit Dies XXVII Maii, Anno Domini MMVII

* Grand works of great thinkers and Religious writers

157 The Partnership

Man longs to know the secrets of the world,
The hidden flow of breezes o’er the earth,
The mystery of death and netherworld,
The gold of living breath, all living’s worth.
To find the secret here, he turns to “laws,”
To thought’s ungainly sphere he does seclude,
He postulates, examines, finds his flaws,
His mind creates new laws, however crude.
Thus knowledge grows, and recreates itself,
Man ever knows much more than once he did,
And yet without a goal, this has no wealth,
As Man without a soul is just an id.
The knowledge by itself is not enough,
Bereft of Wisdom’s wealth it’s naught but fluff.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written March 26, 2007

155 The Failure Of Science

Across the sea, and many desert sands-
The victory of Wisdom does reside,
The Truth, in glory decked, above all lands-
All falsehoods shall be wrecked, all farce denied!
Each People understands whate’er it will,
The shifting of the sands, the skies above,
Yet fullest Truth seems ever unfulfilled,
Man’s constant youth in thought shows lack thereof.
While all believe they know the deepest truth,
They do deceive themselves on that account,
Experience dictates their thought uncouth,
Their one acquaintance rates a slight amount!
Full Truth does lie beyond man’s present state,
His knowledge, like the maund,* does fluctuate.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written March 18, 2007

* unit of measure in Asia that has different values for different countries