JosephDazzio
To set the cause above renown, / To love the game beyond the prize, / To honor, while you strike him down, / The foe that comes with fearless eyes; / To count the life of battle good, / And clear the land that gave you birth, / Bring nearer yet the brotherhood / That binds the brave of all the earth. / / -Sir Henry John Newbolt
Pause and stand with her
Among the dew and soft white lilies.
Listen to the earth wake up
And the wind pass through the trees.
Let your heart be held
By her calm and patient countenance.
Weightless in the midst of angels.
The earth no longer turns and
Time dissolves in her company.
The universe stands still and learns
To love while even Hades bends his knee.
Blessèd are they who seek
The quiet and gentle soul.
Eternally free and constantly whole.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 4:31 PM UTC
There his men stood
With fear and uncertainty,
Questioning if their small regiment could
Defeat the great and mighty enemy.
"The enemy flaunts their might,
But what lies at their core?
For glory and honor we fight,
Virtues only God can adorn.
"Aye!" Returned his men.
"And we shall charge forth into this
Fire, only to reach the other side,
If eternal Glory you desire!"
"Aye!" Returned his men.
But as the Captain spoke, rushing
Forth like a herd of buffalo on
Stampede, the enemy came into sight.
"Fear not their numbers!
Fear not their strength.
Fear only the cowardice
That overtook the other ranks!"
"Aye!" Returned his men.
With the enemy drawing closer,
The Captain had a final word to rouse:
"Rally forth, men, and fight for
The House! fight for the Glory,
Fight as hard as your body allows!" Louder than ever,
Came "Aye!" from his men, their hearts
Swelling within as they saw him sprint towards
The sea of opposition, they all
Followed to the hardest, most daring
Battle in which they'd ever been.
Just then, the two houses clashed.
Left and right, men engaged men
In their own death clasps, some wrestled,
Some tackled with force, but none ran.
For they were married to this cause which they could not divorce.
Up front, some men caught sight
Of Captain, a true Achilles the enemy struggled to confront.
Cutting down men with something in his
Eyes, something great that the evil despise.
As they seemed to be overtaken, one
Final rally and one final push brought
Quite contradictory results to this Captain and
His faithful, courageous men; Victory!
Among the blood and injury walked
The true victors of that day,
With not only winning this battle,
But successful in fighting the War away!
As celebration ensued, the men mounted
Up their Captain upon a great stump
Who over cheers and praise, gave his
Victory speech among the clump.
"Men, what we have seen portrayed
Today was not my doing. The enemy
Was defeated in the course of your pursuing
Virtue through courage and temptation subduing.
But alas, victory is not always success,
And defeat is not always failure. Let
Us not be proud of this event today,
And not curse, but honor our fallen enemy's corps.
But today men, we shall feast.
Let us rejoice in this jubilee, and
Praise the Trinity for the gifts of
Brotherhood, Virtue, ad Plentity!"
"Hurrah!" responded his men, and
With this speech, a great and long
Celebration ensued. One of
Friendship, joy, and delicious food.
Now today, the older Captain sits,
Musing over these past events
With a smile upon his face
And nostalgia resounding within.
Gripping his pack, he remembers that
Day. Once a boy, now a man of zeal.
Missing the simplicity of yesterday, he lands
On foreign soil for battle, this time, for real.
Covered in blood, his regiment is scared.
As shrapnel and rubble maimed his friends
He stepped up. "Rally forth men, today we win."
As they charged once more, the enemy killed them.
Lying among the fallen brothers
He led, he smiled and closed his eyes.
Resting his head, he muttered his prayers.
And as he died, victory was theirs.
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
Comfort and joy I have pursued
To secure my life until my death.
Simple and humble joys I chase, issued
To me through labor, hell, and dragon's breath.
This cup of joy that all men seek,
It's contents: love, companionship, and cash
Has proven elusive and when in hand to drink
Is dashed and spilled among the ash
Created on the trek to find
This cup, the cup which is the author
Of every tragedy combined.
The cup is sought and to obtain
The goal, one must crawl through
Hell, stagger half-way the earth in strain
With broken legs and heart construed.
Impossible tasks are made
Our missions on the path to shade.
We preform miracles and set our bones
After the battle against the world.
Crouching in the brush filled with pain.
We see across the field, the cup's estate.
A-lush with greatness and delight;
"After pain and death, my struggle ends tonight."
O! Alas, my humble protagonist,
For through the field and past the guards
You will reach the cup. When you but kissed
The rim, it's contents, the Bards
Of life, are seen and evermore desired,
Your life is to conclude it's pain in a moment's passing
When, the Hand of Fate dashed the Cup from your grip
And spilled the contents among your life's work and pain.
All gone down the drain.
Then the Hand of Fate will throw you
Across the land, back to where you
Began. Your trek of life
Reset. Now suicide seems better than more strife.
And yet, out of the depths you rise, and after yet more tries,
Undergo greater pain, the cup is reached again.
And dashed. While the tragedy doubles in size
And back you are sent to the pit of pain.
And after ruin, you make inquiry.
"What caused my failure to arise
And Fate, my joy to compromise?
For I slew every obstacle that came to me."
For our lonely character shall find
The root of his ruin. The seed of rue
Was planted by none but him and grew,
Unbenounced and out of sight of any kind.
And when the seedling arose as bud,
Our mighty hero tripped with a thud.
"For the most minute of things caused
Your ruin," the lone Muse sings.
The place of your rest,
Where you sat at church,
The brightness of the Moon
Or where a hat and cloak rest.
These are reasons for a good family's ruin.
So avoidable and small,
Yet they cause the mighty to fall
And despair and pain to live in.
And so we sit and kick ourselves
For the mistakes we made that caused our death
When our energy and hope were squeezed drier than sand
And cup was dashed from our calloused hand.
The weeping lover, in arms his love.
The pitiful prisoner, cursing above.
The torn brother, his own flesh dead.
Are all results of the cup dashed
After their very souls bled.
Truly, "All the earth is but a stage
And its people actors!" 'Tis good sense.
The stars are weeping in the sky,
Our vast, eternal audience.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
The rain. Lightly falling as far as sight can reach.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 4:51 PM UTC
From the moment I first saw her, my soul took flight.
All darkness found in Hell and Earth
Was expelled and brought to light
As good and new as my own birth.
To be a mortal in communion with immortal King,
Love, and Girl is but a dream with such hue
As one nameless spring morning
Occupied by idle wanderings. Yet it came true!
For her I loved, the one not dead,
From when I was but a thought inside God's head.
Yet to be conceived and born of flesh and bone,
Yet to take a breath and yet her face be shown.
For till the Death of Time and past the
End of Man my love shall reign for thee;
Stronger than the grip of any Titan's fist
And truer than a hero's heart the Devil missed.
For the world, by God, was formed of love.
The same: our souls by God were fitted for
The other as a perfect silken glove
Woven for the hand of a King to adore.
'Tis the destiny of our souls to be
As the binding of the Universe;
Everlasting through the symphony
That is life, death, and verse.
Should sun cease to shine
And moon cease to glow,
What worry should be mine?
I have love upon my lady to bestow.
What purpose do they serve,
Yet to be inferior to her?
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 4:40 PM UTC
Do you remember when we were boys?
When mischief was our main profession?
With mud about our corduroys
Walking from the field in our football procession?
We chased and tried to catch the girls
Whom we presumed thought us cool.
We occupied our time in class with jokes
Or smoking cigarette butts behind the school.
Time the tax-collector troubled us not
For all the years of these days,
Time was when we ate and how our race
Told our speed, which meant a lot.
Work was gathering stones to build our forts,
Scavenging sticks to build a fire of sorts,
Setting a trap for some unlucky beast,
Or waking to see the glorious sun rising in the east.
I remember when, God forgive our souls,
We skipped Mass (more than once, I might add)
To eat teachers' kolaches and doughnut holes,
But more for the adventures we had.
When we ran in the forest, we were Injuns.
When we sailed on the lake, we were Pirates,
But now we're just drab grown-ups,
Our characters weak as sand; like Pilate's.
What changed in us?
What made this so?
Temptation leads to sin, plus
Sin corrupts the soul.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC
Detached from mortal's pain and sin allure
I wish to be; content with life and pure.
Of these humble desires I wished aloud
To the wind, then up high, my eye caught a cloud.
A-rest a cloud exists no burning pain,
Only sunshine and breeze above the rain.
While low men curse the world with scornful cry
I'll be resting far up high, floating by.
To lay on whitest sheet and softest bed
While seeing all the world our God hand formed
Is doubtless man's greatest dream, so I've read.
Worrieless I drift. Of "Man," unconformed.
My days are but a passing summer thought,
My nights are but a showcase of the stars.
My world, nothing less than Paradise caught,
My house is just a step from heaven's bars.
While men strive for love and life evermore,
I'll be waiting to greet them at the door.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC