Bright Star

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art-
A light adorning one whom you adore,
Close watching o’er the treasure of your heart,
To guard, protect and love forevermore.
I flit and flutter to and fro, it seems,
As falls the morning dew to dissipate,
As splits the Nile into tiny streams,
As turns the lustful to another mate.
No- yet still steadfast, rooted in this love,
Upon my knees I offer and confess,
I fix my body to the cross above,
To eat and drink His passionate caress.
Oh Star of Bethlehem, thou herald bright,
My salt your salt, my fainting love your light.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-December 26, 2009

The Truth

All men are freckled with unspoken urge,
One crafts a city and one sings a dirge,
Though Wisdom cries, ‘tis vanity in all,
They falter not, nor hasten, large or small.

The budding leaves amaze the youthful eye,
The sun delights to canopy the sky,
Yet writhing, do they wither soon away,
As sunlight ages to the death of day.

So wisdom chants to them a silent lie,
Born in an instant, so they live and die,
Yet still they toil on for ceaseless years,
To shoulder boulders at their ceaseless fears.

Tell lawyers that they quibble at the law,
Forgetting justice, thieving with the jaw.
Tell priests they speak what once our savior said,
While all their love and passion’s grown stone dead.

Tell politicians that they steal the bread,
For which the hand of heavy labor bled,
They serve the few, neglecting humankind,
That their contrived injustice isn’t blind.

Tell rich men that they stole it from the poor,
That robber barons bite them to the core.
Tell poor men that they haven’t worked enough,
They lack devotion, energy and love.

Tell soldiers that their glory wastes away,
That battle does not fall their family’s way,
‘Tis wicked to defend your home by war,
And “service” wrecks a thousand to the core.

Tell lovers that they want mere copulation,
That odes and sonnets are but mere frustration,
Tell noble love it seeks a baser end,
That selfishness inspires every friend.

Tell wisdom that, in thinking, it is folly,
Tell prudence that it loses all that’s jolly,
Tell justice that it cannot be authentic,
Tell fortitude its actions are pedantic.

Tell faith it has no object of devotion,
Tell hope it looks for chance and random motion,
Tell love it costs far more than it is worth,
Tell virtue that it has no place on Earth.

Yet still they persevere, what noble hearts!
To brave and conquer all despairing darts,
It takes one passion, one, that cannot die,
This longing wields the truth against the lie.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-December 25, 2009

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

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

The Fire Pyramid

As flames ignite the driest wood and grass,
Enchanting it with nature’s passioned blaze,
So man must dry himself, throughout his days,
Preparing for a love that none surpass.
As heat may kindle embers in the grass,
Awakening the strength of passion’s rays,
So she must touch his eyes, a foreign gaze,
He burns not for himself, but for the lass.
As oxygen feeds fire, as a gas,
Providing an environment ablaze,
So fate or providence must weave its maze,
To fuse the souls like powder into glass.
As firestorms fail never to amaze,
The three combine, and triumph in the blaze!
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 13, 2009

Ascetic Hedonism

The Buddha sees a world of ugly joys,
A satisfaction never reaching need,
And so, forsaking pleasure in his creed,
He turns within to find an inner poise.
The Hedonists see beauty in the noise,
A satisfaction greater than their need,
Embracing sin, they do an evil deed,
But seek beyond the self for higher joys.
Yet both confront a problem ever new,
The goods of pleasure cannot be denied,
And yet they sweep their lover in the tide,
Divorcing him from pleasures good and true.
We seek true pleasure not in lust or pride
For blessed joy we trust The Holy Guide.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 12, 2009

Love is Calminian

Did Paolo put Francesca in a sack?
Or Romeo imprison Juliet?
Or did they sing of what we ever lack,
A joy untasted, passion’s silhouette?
Tis true, a wooer must awake the wooed,
And breathe a newer life into her bones,
Yet when she lives, we must not then conclude,
That he will take her even when she groans.
No, he will value her decision yet,
And give his rapt attention to her call,
As Romeo to silent Juliet,
He cannot dance if she deserts the ball.
So God awakens us and woos us still,
Until we live anew, or have our will.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 3, 2009

The Easy Life is Not Worth Living

The hammer hits the anvil, stroke on stroke,
The pick dislodges monsters of the earth,
As human muscle fells the mighty oak,
The final threshold breaks, a new rebirth!
The burning flames of virtue form a man,
His brothers sharpen him with every word,
His actions rise atop where they began,
To fly on wings like freedom’s noble bird!
Yet indolence draws humans to the grave.
With food and drink and merriment alone,
They cannot love or serve, are never brave,
More motionless than monuments of stone.
So heark and hear that ease is not the goal,
For virtue, truth, and service form the soul.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-May 30, 2009

The Middle Way

As virtue constitutes the noble act,
And character arises from its vote,
So choosing one, the human makes a pact,
Becoming what he’d chosen to promote.
Deficiency degrades as excess rules,
Above the demons, man is less than God,
So he must rise above ignoble fools,
And bow before a higher ruling rod.
Indulgence desecrates his noble form,
Degrading life and salting virtue’s seeds,
While Pride defeats desire to reform,
And strips Nobility from all his deeds.
The path of virtue, narrow straight and true,
Fulfills the ancient and is ever new.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-May 29, 2009

To Brave a Newer World

Embrace your dreams, oh child-heart renewed!
Cast off the horrid burdens of the past,
For I will give you money, health and food,
A stimulus that shall forever last!
You shall exult within your ecstasy,
As melodies and pleasures sate your need,
Indulgence will replace your industry,
A better high than beer or dope or weed!
So generous, we’ll give you thoughts to think,
And nurture language with a watchful eye,
Our protégés shall fornicate and drink,
While words against them are a hateful crime.
For Liberty you never need to fight,
Enjoying it, instead, shall be your right!
-Tyler William O’Neil
-May 27, 2009

The Deeper Symphony

Without restraint all passion waxes cold,
For he must lay the wood before the flame;
If sparks ignite a twig, ‘tis not the same,
As pyramids of arbors burning bold!
Disorder is a terror to behold,
The mark eludes the man with broken aim,
For vision’s bind when focused on a dame,
And Truth obscure to spirits uncontrolled.
Adventure calls the master of the soul,
For he designs an epic from the flame,
Constructing for his tapestry a frame,
Investing romance for a tale of gold.
So wax your ears from hot cacophony,
Surrender to the deeper symphony.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 7, 2009

Beati Mundo Corde

To him all things are relative indeed,
For he does not relate to certain truth,
Revolting with the fickleness of youth,
Embracing man or woman for his need.
The wiser fool acknowledges the deed,
It soon repels and sickens him, forsooth,
And yet, behind him, evil seeks the youth,
Aspiring to wake his dormant greed.
Pure sancitity reviles such a deed,
Aware that sin obscures the seeker's eye,
Below, he turns his vision to the sky,
And learns the secret Truth of every creed.
Man uses his own heart to be the eye,
The pure in heart can see beyond the sky.
-Tyler William O'Neil
-August 6, 2009

The Middle Way

In modern flesh the ancient foe attacks,
Ensnaring all “minorities” in one,
Romanticism lurks behind our backs,
Dethroning Reason’s order and the Son.
Yet reason loves the world and not its Lord,
Adoring vicious passions with its heart,
Despising charity to make its hoard,
Surrendering the mind to money’s art.
As Aristotle, we must love the mean,
And mercy mixed with justice must prevail,
Awarding industry the golden green,
And giving the unfortunate their bail.
Thus shall we honor He who reigns above,
Establish Justice and forgive with Love.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 10, 2009

The People’s Self-Restraint

As Draco, Solon, Jefferson perceived,
Society will thrive beneath the law,
If just and wise provisions, undeceived,
Will regulate the passions of the mob.
As Tocqueville stated well, the age arrives:
Aristocrats adopt Democracy,
As throne and altar fall, the people thrives,
Yet now we fight a different tyranny.
This age holds promise and debauchery,
And law must now restrain the latter half,
For men with reason gain nobility,
As long as Justice rules on their behalf.
The people’s rule holds no inherent wrong,
But temperance must direct their passion’s song.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 3, 2009

The Passion of Abstinence

The beauty here before my eyes deceives,
She cannot in all likelihood be mine,
For while her presence be a fragrant breeze,
Her soul must complement my soul’s design.
The maiden yet still hidden tells the truth,
For God has destined for us n’ere to part,
So struggling against the rage of youth,
I must prepare myself for Cupid’s dart.
Which love is truly passionate by far,
The one that loves the present girl alone,
Or he that perseveres the longest yard,
To find the star, his destiny to know?
So abstinence cannot be truly bleak,
It fuels the love that all immortals seek.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 2, 2009

Professional Humility

With clumsy feet I stand upon the brink,
Where certainty collapses into mist,
I fear that I shall soon begin to sink,
And taste regret for all that I have missed.
This fallen world says follow passion’s call,
Fulfill desire and give spirit rest,
Yet passion is a mystery to all,
And of its fickleness they all attest.
Utility seems more reliable,
Yet if it lacks desire’s ceaseless flame,
It follows man’s opinion- fallible,
And makes success itself a very shame.
I venture on the calling of my heart,
May faith and love perfect the Master’s art.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 2, 2009

The Golden Bridge

Warm Ceres cultivates all nature’s art,
Cupidian desires, Venus sates,
While Jupiter may rule the sun-god’s cart,
All mortals must surrender to the Fates.
The iron bars of law condemn the soul,
Yet whips and rusty nails may set men free,
Rejecting comforts for the highest goal,
The saint embraces God’s immensity.
The artistry of nature follows Fate,
That maker, cold and merciless, destroys,
And less exists to match its empty weight,
Than in philosophies of men and boys.
So which is dark, and which contains the light?
The golden bridge spans chasms of the night.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-August 1, 2009

Apotheosis of Intern

The starting gun resounds its silent blast,
The newest servant enters in, abashed,
Prepared to work superbly to the last,
His office is a Congressman’s, alas!
His novice legs soon find the beaten track,
To show constituents the city’s heart,
To answer phones and sort the paper stack,
Prepare the way for legislative art.
And now he sees the finish straight ahead,
He perseveres with hope to reach the end,
Yet burns, nostalgic, for past moments dead,
Enjoying present service, rounds the bend.
The silent hear the sounds of victory,
To hail the lowest serf of liberty.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 31, 2009

Man’s defeat of Man

A silent sniffle hides the malady,
A hopeless hope pursuing joyless joy,
Comedic rhythm masks a tragedy,
All life illusion, man himself a ploy.
Destruction of the mystery of life,
A baby is a mass of petty cells,
Religion, false, a source of constant strife,
Tradition builds a tapestry of Hells.
Yet Man is more than matter and a tool,
His passion is more noble than the beast’s,
And all creation knows he is a fool,
Who sacrifices diners for the feast!
So he who values joy must humble be,
For Man’s defeat of man is vanity.
-Tyler William O’Neil
April 14, 2009

The Republican Spirit

Amid the cannons and the strain of war,
Th’ American Achilles held his ground,
Majestic in his stature evermore,
He built this Nation on a solid ground.
Amid confusion and dissenting states,
A giant of the Law upheld its might,
As Constantine, with crosses, ruled the fates,
So Lincoln purged our freedom of its blight.
Amid disorder and Progressive haste,
A man of Virtue spoke with dignity,
As Jeremiah ended Israel’s waste,
So Coolidge woke responsibility.
When Roman nations meet calamity,
A Cincinnatus shows their dignity.
-Tyler William O’Neil
April 15, 2009

The Great War

The German Caesar ravages the West,
The swastika obscures the Crucifix,
Until the hope of Freedom, last and best,
Removes the tyrant’s yoke, the fascist beast!
The Caesar of Japan destroys the East
The rising sun, as Re, ignites the throne,
Until the Western Knowledge cows the beast,
And Liberty alights the morning’s home.
The Russian Caesar ousts the old regime,
The crimson menace hunts the Orthodox,
The sword of Liberty need only gleam,
For men to break the wall of fascist rocks.
Beware the man who swallows Church with State,
For Tyranny and Death shall be his fate.
-Tyler William O’Neil
Written at the World War II Memorial at 0:19 on Sunday, June 28, 2009

If men were angels…

Angelic humans love their fellow men,
And work to make them happy, safe and free,
They do not ask for money in return,
But for the joy and honor so to be.
The perfect magistrate is fully just,
And treats each citizen with love and care,
He requisitions merely what he must,
And serves the people for a tiny fare.
Yet men are not angelic so to love,
But target fame and fortune for the self,
And rulers lack the wisdom from above,
To value justice over pow’r and wealth.
While love may be more grand than liberty,
A power unrestrained is tyranny.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 9, 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

The Perils of Selfish Love

Libidinous is he who seeks his gain,
Embracing beauty for desire’s sake,
Bequeathing misery in his own wake,
Disgrace shall etch the meaning of his name.
Poor duty claims the spirit of the same,
In fear all expectation soon shall break,
For he again is seeking his own sake,
And short of glory, virtue fills with pain.
Superfluous appears the lover’s game,
For it excels all reason and debate,
No fear can rule him, neither any fate,
He loves her for herself, and not her name.
A mystery that baffles every greed,
Love self and fail, love others and succeed.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 25, 2009

Love is a Refining Fire

Two strangers nod across a great divide,
They neither know nor wish the other’s good,
Nor urge their “friend” to virtue, as they should,
And though they work together, they are blind.
True brothers come, departing as the tide,
Yet each to each is better understood,
As iron sharpens iron, as they should,
They boost each other’s heart and soul and mind.
The wife who knows him best is never kind,
Her love embraces him and does him good,
Yet pressing him beyond where he has stood,
And while devoted, it is never blind.
True love is fire, cleansing every soul,
It shall not be content ‘til we are whole.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 24, 2009

In Praise of Eros

The tyrant Youth destroys the human heart-
Awaking errant passions yet unjust,
Distracting students with the lover’s dart,
Insatiable, miraculous, and just.
For rising to his place, the human stands,
While being, he majestically becomes,
Desire marks his glory, and his chance-
He lacks divinity, to it succumbs.
The pinnacle of life is not despair,
But reaching ever higher, does it bow,
For Man to live, he must receive a share
Of future, past and ever-present now.
Oh Eros, you who ever vex our hearts,
Continue to unleash your holy darts!
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 3, 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

Subjective Objectivity

Subjective good may vary man to man,
One loves a dollar, one a platitude,
Yet all agree on what they should demand,
For some love even evil as the Good.
Experience may yield quite different views,
As age will often disagree with youth,
Yet all perceive what it is good to choose,
And some love even falsehood as the Truth.
How varied are the things that smite the soul!
One loves a woman, one the music's pull,
Yet all converge upon a common goal,
And some love ugly things as Beautiful.
So while, assenting, subjects give their nod,
They love the very attributes of God.
-Tyler William O'Neil
-July 21, 2009

The Love of Nature

August, the Noble Prince now bows the knee,
His promise of eternal joy resounds,
He offers her His mighty majesty,
Releasing her from all infernal bounds!
All maidens whisper of His handsomeness,
Each heart enraptured in His brilliant light,
She fantasizes of His tenderness,
And longs with all her being for His sight.
Yet when He offers her unending love,
She laughs and says, “oh, just a dance will do,”
She knows with all her heart, it’s not enough,
Preferring fantasy to what is true.
So men pursue the attributes of God,
Their hearts desire He whom they forgot.
-Tyler William O’Neil
February 22, 2009

What ring may best a marriage?

To walk the streets of gold through pearly gates,
Jerusalem descending from the clouds,
To sing, forever loosed from earthly weights,
And enter heaven, chanting holy rounds,
To see our fellows passed beyond the grave,
Discourse with saints and poets and the like,
To wink at ancient heroes, ever brave,
And meet that blessed land, where is no night-
T’would last a second if He weren’t there,
And glory would be lost for Heaven’s King-
We soon forget the focus of our care,
As wives forget the husband, love the ring.
Our hope is paved not with the streets of gold,
Our glory and our treasure is our God.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-July 19, 2009

Identity

As flows a river so does rush the sun,
Ancestral honors dribble to their doom,
The present ecstasy wells forth, undone,
And future generations flood the tomb.
Mankind was fluid, is and is to be,
The self of yesteryear became a daze,
Each moment, for a second, he is free,
Tomorrow and eternally, a haze!
Yet certainty illuminates the mind,
The visage of the lion and the lamb,
Though all that is about him may unwind,
He still can say the sacred word, “I am.”
Though one may never touch a river twice,
Existence cannot be a game of dice.
Tyler William O’Neil
March 27, 2009

A Tribute To Disgrace

In order to secure all freedom’s boons,
Establish justice and give her a voice,
We must not overlook each woman’s wounds,
But give to her the liberty of choice.
Yet equal are we born, and equal die,
And freedom must extend to every soul,
We cannot suffer any genocide,
Regardless of the target or the goal.
Yet even if no murder is implied,
And fetuses are just a bunch of cells,
Abortion should disgrace all women’s pride,
For they who kill their children kill themselves.
So even if it finds morality,
Abortion cannot square with dignity.
-Tyler William O’Neil
June 2, 2009

Terra Nostra

The tyrant ousted, liberty restored,
A senate and a legal code assumed,
A nation strong in virtue, soon the lord
Of mare nostrum, sea by land consumed.
Yet liberty fits not the world entire,
A few self-governed men can rule a state,
Expansion soon makes liberty expire,
Debauchery and Caesar are its fate.
Augustus worked to fix the malady,
Surrendering his station as the king,
Yet Rome was irredeemable indeed,
And Caesars ruled ‘til Oadacer’s sting.
Perhaps the land by two seas flanked is wise,
To leave its conquests free to rule their lives.
-Tyler William O’Neil
May 8, 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

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

XV Amor Prudentitatis Secundus

(The Second Love of Wisdom, the second sonnet on Philosophy)
As Plato said, one ought to question all,
Each answer will lead closer to the Truth,
Philosophy does ever to me call,
For he who knows is better fit to choose.
This modern life is ever full of choice,
And one ought not to choose 'til he is sure,
Yet if you wait too long, you'll have no voice,
And silence cannot be a useful cure.
The Earth is ere beset by many flaws-
Injustices and evil spring to mind,
And what will better shut their hungry jaws,
That Truth's amazing power to unwind?
False thoughts, when brought to light, lose their appeal,
Yet Truth must first be found to make it real.
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit Dies XI Octobris, Anno Domini MMVII

XIV Cupiditas Puerilis

(Boyish Passion)
A thousand does there are, a thousand maids,
And yet there are a hundred fit for me,
I set my sights on one, of sight and age,
That pleases all my fancy and dismay.
For as I do advance, she flees away-
Or as I choose to act, another has-
Must always my desire be at bay,
When all my hope and misery are hers?
With anguish'd heart, I draw myself away,
With bleeding soul, I dare accept the truth-
I choose again, another comely maid,
To find her gone from me, oh horrid youth!
I either long for treasure far too vast,
Or for despair and sorrow to the last!
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit Dies XVII Septembris, Anno Domini MMVII