December 25

Amid the hustle bustle of our list,
Transcendent Glory echoes from the sky,
As Heaven meets the souls of you and I,
The Father sends the Sun into our midst.
The manger mocks this child born to die,
Majestic King of Heaven and of Earth,
Insulted at the moment of his birth,
He loved the world too much to let it die.
Each year we hail the moment of his birth,
By buying, selling, drinking wine and ale,
Our revelry turns wine to water stale,
Our spirits follow things of passing worth.
May Christ again join Heaven with the Earth,
And dwell within who dwells upon his birth.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-December 25, 2009

The Modern Exodus

The crack of whips, the mud and muck of shame,
The buffeting of hammers, stroke on stroke,
Fade out to see the whirling pillar-flame,
The blood of lambs as ransom from the yoke.
The galleys stink with famine, dirt and muck,
The negro bends with blisters on his back,
The shackles drop, he bleeds a stroke of luck,
As battle frees a nation from the rack.
Narcotics mute the screams of cheated whores,
As gunshots beat the children to despair,
Both Avarice and Lust have shut the doors,
Bold Justice shouts for blood and begs for prayer.
We sprinkle bloody lamb upon our door,
For Justice tarries now, but nevermore.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-November 21, 2009

The Leaves of Autumn

Red, green and yellow fall the autumn leaves,
Cascading to the avenues of men.
They beautify the paths between the trees,
Who guard the joy as earth grows cold again.
Then whoosh- the palms of autumn sweep away,
Surrendering to nails of winter’s frost.
The sun forsakes its child, a shorter day,
And man laments the light that he has lost.
That light himself once trod on autumn palms,
With men who laid “hosannas” at his feet.
Then echoing the winter of the psalms,
Blood asked the Father, “why forsake thou me?”
As trees proclaim hosanna now today,
The cross of winter whispers Calvary.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-October 24, 2009

Authority: Sin as Deconstructionism

A poem must not merely be, but mean.
No truth stands higher than authority,
For He who makes has made, whatever dream
Intrudes upon the hearer’s fantasy.
The pen of being writes the universe,
And readers cannot separate the two,
They strive in vain to spread their vile curse,
To cut from Truth the children of the True.
Hold fast, hold fast to He who speaks the Truth,
And do not question what his meanings mean,
For He has spoken not from fear of youth,
As Hamlet says, things are. They do not seem.
‘Tis sin that cuts the Maker from the made,
And Truth shall heal the Love that has decayed.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-October 16, 2009

The Squirrel

The canopy of yellow-greens surrounds
A fervent worker of the forest-wood,
He sits upon a branch, with husky sounds,
Scritch-scratching out the woodland’s greatest good.
With tawny fur he scratches at the nut,
With boisterous hands he claws his knotty prize,
With passioned teeth he bites and works to glut
His epic hunger under cloudy skies.
The frigid air pursues his industry,
Four dazzled humans wonder at his ways,
He gnaws on high, and struts majestically,
As life idyllic blesses all his days.
He needn’t worry, nor does he complain-
Man marvels at the beautiful mundane.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-October 14, 1009

The Youth of Heaven

The sun awakens roosters and the dawn,
His rays cascade upon the mountain peaks,
The moon sedates the lion and the fawn,
All nature sighs to see her mournful cheeks.
The sun wakes yet again upon the earth,
His radiance sparks joy in every soul,
The moon delights in giving day its birth,
They dance in harmony, a perfect whole.
All being revels in monotony,
His youth is vibrant, and His passion strong,
The cycles are a dance of revelry,
“Again, again!” He cries, forever long.
Men tire, losing joy in their machine,
While Heaven laughs and revels in routine.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-October 12, 2009

Unbelief

I stand upon the precipice of time,
To fall into the icy winter’s frost-
A molecule of doubt in hope sublime,
Shall break the soul in two- forever lost.
A flame about me dances in the wind,
The word of Heaven whispers in my heart,
Beatitude defiles ugly sin,
And joy has pierced my marrow like a dart.
Yet sorrows ere oppress my fellow men,
And tides of triviality engulf,
Disquietude invades my private den,
I rip apart my blessings like the wolf.
The virtues shout that joy belongs to them,
The vices whisper- evil is a gem.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-September 25, 2009

The Incarnation

Leaves crumple and are trampled under foot,
The ancient bones of ancestors decay,
Time bursts the core of being to its root,
For life is just a seven second play.
Yet something stands beyond this broken mess,
A thing unchanged, magnificent and pure,
The universe itself is just a guess,
While everything proceeds from Being’s core.
And what if Being entered our malaise,
And time affected everlasting Truth?
Each moment, aging, lucid as a haze,
Would sharpen, taking shape and form and youth.
A moment makes a grand eternity
As Fortitude becomes Infirmity.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-September 14, 2009

Two Fictions

Each moment we reject a thousand things,
By choosing we reject each other plan,
The fiancée rejects a thousand rings,
Yet it was meant to be, since life began.
Each person can describe an atom’s shape,
We know how stars begin, and planets end,
We learn a thousand truths, our mouths agape,
And yet we cannot fathom living’s end.
We cross the sky in ships of shining steel,
We build tremendous cities filled with light,
We travel to the moon- it seems unreal,
Until we age and fade into the night.
We’re born outdated, aging into youth,
It seems that paradox contains the Truth.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-September 9, 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