Poetry

Introduction-

Introduction-

where shall I go now

                                  to impress you,

                                                            my reader and benefactor?

wandering round

                                    winding roads

                                                without rhyme

or reason.

there- I said it!

none

no reason whatsoever.

it is you, in fact, that glues

        together all that

  reason

                     into so many

 of Rorschach’s butterflies

and I’m calling bullshit

on the whole lot

in advance.

Sincerely,

K. O’Toole

I Wonder-

I wonder what happens
When I finally figure it all out…

Does perception fall
All around me
Like so many shards
Of one way mirror?

Does a man come from
Behind the curtain
To congradulate me
On a job well done?

Is there cash involved?

-K. O’Toole

On Waking

Warm hours suspended in
Welcome dreams
Bringing same-sweet joy
Of our electric night
In Freudian splices.

And on waking
From a deepest sleep,
I find myself in a new dream-
The bed of another,
Saturated with rest
And long kisses.

Afternoon beam
Over across the room
Props her window
To the wall, from a floor
Littered with the protective
Shells of people.

With the comfortable consciousness
Of one who wishes to wake,
I stare into the ceiling
And breath the moment;
Richness rising like smoke
From glowing embers.

-K. O’Toole

God Gambles-

We do not despair when chance deals a pair of aces.
But aces are few and likely your due is sad faces.

When all cards are had you cannot be mad when you lose-
Our wills are not free, though sad it may be; we don’t choose.

No skill in your pick so don’t be a prick at good fortune.
The same goes for you who never did choose… pompous buffoon.

We live in a life of strict rules and strife with few winners.
These laws do not bend, their sharp edges rend saints and sinners.

It’s not certain doom, there’s just not much room at the peak.
You could scrape and climb, but when it’s your time you’ll still stink.

The ante is great deciding your fate in the hereafter (but still…)
God can’t cheat the odds for meaningless clods of matter.

Just look to your hand to check on which land you will cross.
You could hope and pray, but come judgment day, it’s a coin toss.
 

-K. O’Toole

Maker-

Orchestratin’ the written world that I live in,
Every letter better than the next,
you seein, me writin, my meaning.
The black blood from my soul splatter,
shatter the break I keep between me and mine,
you see me as I would like to be,
free from all these flaws, draws the question:
which is better? this matter?
or the eth-real ideals behind these crafty symbols
that I am a slave to,
and gave to me this mic, and the right to
speak to my brother the worlds I create.
2-D they maywhatever be,
still packs a punch, you hunch over
in explicit pain of knowin’,
keep on goin’ through and through
this BULLSHIT stream of existence
Always against the grain, defined by pain
And pleasure fleetin’
meetin’ many more valleys than peaks
as i tra-verse
toward the edge of the sky
to meet my maker.

-K. O’Toole

Rocking Chair

Insanity sits lightly in the contradictory heart
of every rocking chair.
Where else could a body be moving all day
while going no where?
And discover the cure for weariness resting
in a fit of restlessness,
As if even one's own comfort and satisfaction
must be well wrested.

Those sitting in such a chair cannot help
but be agreeable
As all their ups and downs coalesce into
a state of permanence
Inside which a day's troubles gently unravel
with ease and certainty,
As in each moment of stillness before the sway,
with each breath of life.

-K. O’Toole

Outlook (Look Out!)-

If I were ever to be struck
By a car, I hope it would be
A nice car, like a Bentley,
Real classy, with all leather
Interior, and at least a dozen
Cup-holders for those on the go.

And I hope that I don’t land
In dog shit, because that’d be
Real embarrassing; cooped up
In an ambulance, a potentially
Cute paramedic adjusting my
I.V., wondering about the smell.

And I hope that the driver of
Said ambulance doesn’t hit any
Cute, endangered species of
Bug on the way to the hospital,
Cause they didn’t do nothing
To me, and that’s bad karma.
 

-K. O’Toole

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