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

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

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

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

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

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

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 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

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