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

XVI Prima Proposita Mea

(My First Purposes)
I wish to cure the ills that are our own,
The ever-hidden evils of our time,
They are injustice, which is never shown,
And emptiness, whose remedy is rhyme.
Leviathan, to seize through every means
The hard-earned funds which keep all men alive!
You do deserve some praise, or so it seems,
But not control to rule our very lives!
The void, our even more disastrous foe,
You steal from all the purpose of their lives!
If life is to be happy and gain dough,
Its nature is too shallow to survive!
Much poetry and law I wish to write
To call the sun, and end this evil night!
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit Dies XI Octobribus, Anno Domini MMVII

149 The Gift of Poetry

The writing I perfect is not my own,
A gift, it was, from Heaven’s Holy gate,
A geist of Holiness in it is shown,
As is a gem, for which I cannot wait!
For poetry, a vision quite sublime,
Is nothing when compared with what’s to come,
When silent bell doth ring at end of time,
A glory, all shall see, excels the sun!
And thus the greatest gift is given me-
I am a chosen prophet of the light,
I am the herald of the majesty-
Through all the beauty which I have to write!
Although the words I speak are not my own,
My spirits medium yields joy unknown!
© Jerusalemrising
Written February 27, 2007

137 The Lovers of Nature

The lovers of the Earth are seen as wise.
Their reputations fly on winged birds.
The common-folk do see from crooked eyes
The vision that these prophets spoke in words.
The common man sees them as full complete,
He reads of them, and speaks of “wiser” ways,
He never questions elevated seat,
Imagination easily betrays.
For ev’ry poet longs for something more-
He never finds the answer which he seeks,
The nature lovers did not find the core,
They see the other man upon the peaks.
The fullest wisdom lies behind the Earth-
Look there, not here, to find the fullest worth.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written January 28, 2007

110 The Defeat of Poetry

The length of time is much too short to tell,
Barbaric rhyme is much too coarse a form,
To beauty so divine, mere words are hell,
The cage of passing time, a horrid norm.
The arrogant alone would now attempt
To carve in lasting stone the tale so loft,
To speak in word what beauty I have dreamt,
To kill a bird so lovely and so soft.
This tale above the riches of the earth,
Is full of love, yet never known in slight,
I mourn to never tell of greatest worth,
I rage and loudly yell my loss of sight!
No ear can hear, no word can close describe,
The softest tear does fall for broken rhyme.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written December 4, 2006