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

148 The Nature of Man

Oh mind, thou art a bastion for the truth,
O soul, thou art the metaphysic geist-
The corpse, not perfect, even in the youth,
Does ever wish, of virtue such, the heist!
The body knows it holdeth little gold,
A beauty, yes, but only to the eye,
And time destroys the beauty of the old,
The curse of man is ever that we die.
The mind and soul may yet be quite pristine-
And yet, when unfulfilled they are a void,
Their beauty lies in golden wisdom’s gleam,
On Earth their treasure cannot be destroyed!
And thus is man, he is of parts composed-
Philosopher and beast, in him exposed.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written February 27, 2007

147 The Lost Love

The deepest love in me is that of land,
All other joys indeed, are second best,
The world of Old is where I wish to stand,
Historic gold and iron as my guests.
My ancestry did live on British shores
Across the sea, the balance they maintained-
The peace they did receive through gloried wars
Gave time for one to see that Earth is stained.
To walk through ancient walls, and ponder deep!
True beauty ever calls where kings have strode-
Though beauty fades, the memories ne’er sleep,
The ended age is music to the soul.
Europa sweet, now naught but memory-
I ask to greet me in eternity!
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written February 20, 2007

146 Joy

Some say to eat and drink, and to be gay-
And yet I ever think of the divine,
That truth which passes, in a mocking way,
The “happy” masses in their mocking shrine!
The gaiety that comes in mocking form
Is misery when pondered deeply, lo-
If to their “happiness” one does conform,
He finds an emptiness bereft of soul!
Yet if he does diverge to seek the truth,
His spirit will emerge to self-destroy-
This gaiety is known to ag’d as “youth”-
Sobriety fulfilled is drunken joy.
And so I say to ponder deep, enjoy-
The disarray of sloth’s deceitful ploy!
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written February 19, 2007

145 The Childish Wisdom

The simple beauty flies across the breeze-
The yearning child tries to understand,
His searching soul is ever unappeased-
For insight whole comes not upon demand.
The child asks the questions without end,
The greatest task is his to undertake-
He longs, the universe to comprehend,
And knows what is a curse, mind unawake.
The modern man awaits his learning whole-
He banks upon the fates to understand,
“Experience,” not wisdom, is his goal-
To dance the dance, and not find greater land.
Thus children know to seek the greater goal,
While elder souls have lost the seeking soul.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written February 18, 2007

144 The Scourge of Time

A silent night digresses into dark,
The evening light portrays a shallow mist,
My ever-searching soul does now depart,
My longing to be whole is now dismissed.
I hear in darkened wood a quiet sound-
The ancient voices good entrance the soul,
They tell a tale of ancient time renowned,
And free a wail for desp’rate worldly woe!
The majesty of ancient songs agone,
The tapestry of man is incomplete.
Not only have we lost the early dawn,
But dusk of man, his last, we’ll never meet.
Alas the scourge of time attacks the soul-
A wish for deeper rhyme to yield the whole!
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written February 12, 2007

143 The Golden Death

Men cannot see the worth of many things,
Through misery he learns his discipline,
Injustice brings his will to conquer kings,
The Golden Death does kill to make divine!
For ever-lasting life on Earth is dull,
The ever-present strife sets each apart,
For no two men do share a life in full,
The time you spend is your eternal art.
What death imparts is human social worth,
When each departs, a part of Man is lost,
Thus Man must spread himself upon the Earth,
To share his single wealth a’fore ‘tis lost.
The individual is only great,
If death is in its full his sure escape.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written February 12, 2007

142 The Timely Death

Old Nietzche wrote upon the timely death,
His prophet spoke of those who die too young-
Yet some so very late, draw final breath,
Their souls too long did wait to sing the song!
The young do focus deep upon the Earth,
They haven’t time to weep their broken song-
Yet soon they know full well the depth of worth,
Yet never show, for they are “far too young.”
In hand and hand the virtue comes with vice-
True knowledge grand does walk with love of Earth,
For just as one may learn the best advice,
His soul begins to yearn to flee from worth.
The link with Earth grows hard and taut with age-
Comes fear with final card, not wisest sage.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written February 7, 2007

141 Power

The king who reigns atop his golden throne
The sun that wanes is not beneath his hand
Though people may obey his ev’ry tone,
His orders go astray lorn* self command.
What task may be performed, without control?
A grand Construction’s formed from single mind-
True righteousness is gained from focus whole,
And true success is earned through will refined.
The human soul is made of dual song
Flawed instinct’s goal is ever unappeased,
No man has any might, save will is strong,
He must the instinct smite to gain his peace.
And thus the only Man to reign complete
Is he who once began to self defeat.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written February 5, 2007

*without