If You Enjoy My Words…

I would really appreciate your help…

Someone suggested that I could get paid to write and that I should set up a donations page. So here goes! It feels a little awkward but this is what I would like to do full-time, write. I can’t pay my bills unless I earn my way so this will be my leap of faith. Thank you for letting me believe I have wings! Please note your donation is in NZ dollars and you may determine the amount – thank you again x

NZ$1.00

The Hidden Object Blame

Is there really a light
at the end of some tunnel?
Have I lost the map
Did I throw it away
dirty and crumpled?
Have I lost my way
taken a wrong turn
can’t see the light
from the candles burned?
Is it that I’m blind
even though I enjoy vision
For looking I can’t see
and so much
remains hidden

© Kait King, 2015

Lyrics to Pretty Girl (draft)

Pretty Girl
With a trail of heartbreak
Pretty Girl
Chances they all take
Pretty Girl
If not for their own sakes
what will it really take
Pretty Girl
Now
Lonely Girl
Why’d you give it all?
Lonely Girl
Was it far to fall?
Lonely Girl
Leaving hearts so small
If you have a heart at all
Oh Pretty Lonely Girl

© Kait King, 2015

Violent Love

Wild animal

– resonate in me

Violent Love

Tender Brutality

Snake, lion,

tiger or sheep

– Passionate,

almost Violent Love,

to: shy,

submissive,

meek

Only 50 shades of grey?

That is what I

want to say

– That Hollywood crap

you can keep…

© Kait King, 2017

My Love

The day draws painfully long,
my love
without you in it
The night a torturous silence,
my love
when you are not in my bed
A meal for two,
my love
is now a punch in my gut
and I cannot eat a morsel
thank you,
my love
let me thank you for
a lesson learned
As I never would have believed,
my love
that I would never be
with you
© Kait King, 2017

Color blind

A color is neither good

Or bad…

People are.

Kait King 02 June 2020

If I lay in your arms

If I lay in your arms
on your chest
near your heart
I can feel the pulse
of your veins
the beating of chambers
the haunting hush of air in lungs
If I lay in your arms
my head on your shoulder
near your mouth
I can feel the warmth
of your breath
see the curve of your lips
I want to crush with my own
If I lay in your arms
my body rested against you
touching skin
I can sense the need in you
the desire in me
the smelting ore of us both
even in rest
If I lay in your arms

© Kait King, 2015

If I could…

If I could cut out your

heart

This is how it would

feel

And the music will tell

you

How come it’s so

real

If I could cry with your

eyes

This is how it would

feel

And the words that I

sing

Is how come it’s so

real

© Kait King, 2015

Do You Really Want To Know Me

I don’t want to be known

just by an icon on your phone

I want to be recognized

by the color of my eyes

the curve of my smile

Things you’d know when

you’ve known me a while

© Kait King, 2016

No Regrets

Did they say they didn’t
want to know you?
Could you pick your father out
in a crowd?
Did your mama love
and leave you
And you were left crying
out loud?
I wont’ listen to your
estranged olden day voices
when men were men
and women had no choices
Were you just a sad
disappointment?
Did they help when you
were down?
And what about now that
they are not here
Did you say the Love word
while they were still around?

© Kait King, 2015

King Seat or Hell Hole podcast

Listen to an episode of my podcast: King Seat or Hell Hole: A creepy tale of an experience I had in an old insane asylum https://anchor.fm/kait-king/episodes/King-Seat-or-Hell-Hole-A-creepy-tale-of-an-experience-I-had-in-an-old-insane-asylum-e14it96

You Have No Idea

You have no idea

how precious

you are

How loved

adored

and wanted…

You have no idea

how just

seeing your face

makes my day

my week

my life….

You have no idea

how your

smile

brings me

great joy

near to tears and

radiates to my heart…

You have no idea

how I

desperately long

to hold you

to hug you

to touch

your precious face…

Kait King 5th of June 2021

Glazed and confused

They’re staring at me

those doughnut holes

the sprinkles and

that fucking maple syrup glaze

Those different flavoured

cream-filled ones

screaming out my name

They ooze confidence

knowing my desire

my taste buds inflamed

those gooey pink shades

that sticky chocolate shine

that fucking maple syrup glaze

I can’t make up my mind

© Kait King, 2015

Creepy Creep Creeping

She didn’t want to know,

y’know

She didn’t want

to see

Her man had been

behind her back

creepy

creep

creeping

Another in denial,

sat

She really couldn’t

believe

He really couldn’t

have done that

creepy

creep

creeping

Your heart

is not safe

it says

your children

are in danger

the man you thought

was ‘dad’ material

turns out to be

that stranger…

creepy

creep

creeping

© Kait King, 2016

Choose to Lose

Oh what to do
when someone
cheats on you
Oh what to say
that even though –
you want them to stay
And how do you choose
how you want to lose –
you know he knows
he’s won –
and he’s already started
and nowhere
near
done
© Kait King, 2016

Summer Bright

See-through summer

lemon breeze

opening flowers

warming seas

You beckon to me

Sun-bright memories

in hazy days

berry-brown bodies

of the inner child plays

You beckon to me

Sunlight filters

through fruit laden branches

wishes and dreams

hopes and second chances

You beckon to me

© Kait King, 2015

If

If he hits you
He will hit your kids
He will kick your pets
He will break your stuff
He will fuck your world…

#walkawayfromviolence

What’s wrong with you

mary bell

Mary Bell

what the hell

at ten

was inside your head?

To choke a

little boy of 3

until he’s stone

cold dead

And then to carve

your name in him

the initials MB

in his chest

Did you want everyone

to know

that this work

was your best?

I know your mother

was a prostitute

and she did terrible

things to you

And is she the one

responsible

for making you

into you?

Others have

an even sadder tale

and are left with

deep scars too

but others haven’t

needed to kill

or do the things

you do.

© Kait King, 2015

Butt Crack

They’ve called it

Crack because

when you use it

you turn into an

Arsehole – as in

Butt Crack….

Kait King ❤ May 2018

Equal but Different – Let’s Celebrate!

I believe we are stumbling blindly into an inferno of uncontrolled hedonistic violence and sex. There is no argument that sex and violence are two of the most basic instincts in a human, particularly a male as he is the protector and the pro-creator; or that these two basic reptilian responses have been a part of human nature since the beginning of time.
What I find concerning is the lack of the repulsion response to violence or unnatural/violent sex. Research indicates that women, or young girls, are not only joining gangs and becoming more violent in their everyday life, but also committing suicide in more violent ways. If we look back in time, women are the carers, the nurturers, the collectors, and gatherers. Women were seen as mysterious as they bled and didn’t die and could give birth to another human being. An amazing, necessary, and painful responsibility, but one that sets us apart as women and the carers of the next generation. I think we have lost track of that view. Is it because of Women’s Liberation? I don’t think it is because of that, but perhaps a catalyst after so many years of denial and oppression for women that they just went crazy and like most things they snowball into something unmanageable or inexplicable. Women needed to create their own freedom, this was a necessary journey but now we need another hero to pull us back to reality, balance and a normality.
So back to the violence factor. Women used to gas themselves or take pills to commit suicide. Men were the ones who used guns and ropes to do the same. Back in the 1970’s more and more suicides committed by women were found to be with razors, they would slit their wrists. Then they started shooting themselves and hanging too. Women were deemed to see suicide as a way of going to sleep and to look as “peaceful” as possible. They didn’t want their faces blown apart or a mess everywhere – that typical female response seems to be fading as we move forward, women seem to want to be seen as violent, angry, retaliatory and don’t fuck with me individuals. As tough as a man, as strong as, capable as etc. And there is no reason we can’t be. We are all on different levels of ability – what we shouldn’t be doing is denying that ability. We should celebrate our individuality, our gender responsibilities, our strong points – no matter what. But it doesn’t mean we aren’t equal in the ability to be human – we just have different EQUAL roles in the responsibility of the Universe, our lives, our people, children, plants and animals – all Earthlings have a reason to be here. All Earthlings have a role in the world, some of us know this role and others of us struggle to find our purpose. But what our purpose is not, is to degrade, belittle, or detract others from their journey.
I’ve watched Jack Ass and I wonder what influence that may have had on today’s young kids. When we were growing up, if we saw someone (young or old) fall over or hurt themselves or if they failed at something like a driver’s licence or baking a cake – we didn’t laugh and point at them and shout “Loser”. We sat down with them, put an arm around their shoulders, and told them that they would be all right and be able to do this again. We would help them, pick them up, dust them off, and push them forward again, not nail spikes of spite into their very soul to keep them pinned to the lowest low.
So I wonder what has happened to us all. I look rather sadly around me when I see more and more women with guns standing next to a Giraffe, Elephant, or Lion they “hunted” with an AK47, and I’m ashamed. Children and babies burnt, tortured,starved, ignored, and suffering, our elderly abused and forgotten to rot in unacceptable conditions, animals tortured and used for sick individual’s pleasure. But most disturbing of all is that it is a woman at the end of those appalling acts, more and more.
So I beg of us all as women to take back what is ours, our mystery, our caring, our nurturing and saving of the world. We are women. Our power lies in our ability to calm, talk, bring peace, negotiate, and love. Please help me bring our job-description back into the light, it’s who we are, it’s what we were made to do – I don’t want to fall into the hole of what everyone else is doing or hardening up for – if we do this we will crack and fall into a squidzillion pieces never to be a whole again. Am I living in the hope of a Utopia? Please say it isn’t so….
© Kait King, 2015

Old Words Lost


Te Kopuru

The Chinese have called this generation of Taiwanese millennials “The Strawberry Generation.” To me, this seems appropriate to most of the world at this time. The Strawberry Generation is so called because they bruise easily, have no resilience, and give up in a heartbeat.
Because everything is so readily available online, whether it be from clothes to sex – you can own it, see it, have it – now, pretty much. I notice that our young people are not used to having patience or having to work for anything because everything is just ‘there’. So, have we created a generation of spoiled brats? Or impatient and uncontrollably angry and frustrated youths? Are these people going to be the adults who have to look after our elderly generation? I don’t mean to cluster everybody into the same box, as this is not fair or true, but I do believe that many of our young people have these attitudes and belief structures about life.
Along with instant gratification, there is also this “throw away mentality,” so we have the availability and the discarding instantaneously, of just about everything. This is now not just the discarding of unwanted objects like clothes or a cell phone, but the discarding of humanity. We throw away so much – even letters that belong in words. But that’s ok – I get it, it’s simpler, quicker, textier….it just feels like the next generation is forgetting how to spell – or never learned, or how to use grammar – capital letters, even. It just seems a little sad…and throw away, and wasteful…and sometimes fucking annoying to try and decipher when I shouldn’t be bothering anyway, but I do try.
I don’t think I would care so much if I wasn’t so into words, language, creating stories or getting a point across. I don’t want to live without words like devotion, loyalty, dignity, grace, honour. Not only that, but I want those words to be relevant in day to day relationships – at home, at work, at play. To operate in the world with dignity, with grace – these things seem not to have been shown to many young women. I want those words returned to us as women, I want them to be a part of how women are described. Not skanks, sluts, bitches, snobs, beeatch and every other name that is used to describe us these days.
And who wants to be loyal to, devoted to, or honor a slag anyway?

We Should… 

We should walk through life doing and being the very best we can be, just to show the Universe our gratitude for the gift of life…

Kait King 2015

Fandamily

family-guy-3

I knew I loved this family

from the very start

It felt like I’d always been there

and we’d never been apart

With our delicious little secrets

and our family photo art

Boisterous family dinners

and cheeky, jeering remarks

Mum’s delicious orange chicken and

her cinnamon apple tart

I knew I loved this family

from the very start

© Kait King, 2016

I remember you Dad

I remember you Dad

I remember being only

knee-high to a grasshopper

and you would twirl me around

you let me stand on your feet

and danced with me

while I clutched at your

chino trousers or

the creases on your business suit

You never minded

we always danced

I remember pouring your drink

two fingers of Glen Morangie

two fingers being my index and little

but not really

I mixed that whiskey with two blocks of ice

and a dash of chilled water

I remember how you would savour it

in the South African sunlight

at the end of your day

I remember the love of words and animals

you gifted to us all

your funniness

and sense of justice

I remember you telling me

to eat my crusts

so that I would grow hair on my chest

and I did – eat them, not grow hairs on my chest…

I remember you used to type

business letters on my belly

and I was an old typewriter with a runner

and a “ding!”

which tickled the hell out of me

“Dear sir” you would type

I’m shrieking with delight

And the photo’s that I have

I remember you Dad

© Kait King, 2015

With love and dedication to my incredible father – the walking Encyclopaedia, the uncapped academic – I miss you, we all do xxx

Yes you CAN!

#WestCoastKait

“You can forgive and still want revenge…”

Kait King 2017

Writer’s Blogk: Observation 7

7. Feeling guilty about not writing, will not help you write any better or quicker or make up for lost writing time…. let it go and write on

that’s crap….you let her change you like that…

It doesn’t matter
if you wrote it
in a letter
caught a plane to
come and get her
Think you really
could do better
Sorry for the day, man,
that you met her
she took your money
coz you let her
now that time is just
a blur together
and you look like
you’ve been through
the shredder

© Kait King, 2015

My friend

Peace and love

my friend,

love and light –

the sparking of

two energies

will bring light

into the night

© Kait King, 2016

I Chose You

Delicious man of mine
you succulent beast
Blessed me
on you, I feast
Gentle, closest honest
friend
I’d do this with you
all over again
So articulate
but an animalistic
lover
I choose you out of all
and to lie with no
other

Kait King 2017

Look at me…

Look at me

waffling on

happy as a bee

Look at me

skipping through life

thinking I’m free

Look at me

that wistful child

once so wild

and now independent

and grown

Look at me

with 3 under 3

and a house I don’t

even own

Look at me

shared weekends

if we’re lucky

And I know you’ve been

sucking

someone else’s cherry

lip gloss

Look at me

bitter days

long nights

spent watching crap TV

Never to be

free –

the very unhappy

divorcee

© Kait King, 2015

Blood Bright

Blood bright 2, blood

Blood bright

and sharp

as a knife

Twisted as

a hemp rope

Gettin’ into

my life

Deep, dark

whisper

coarse as a

saw

Asking me

to write evil

out

more, more….

more

© Kait King, 2015

Foot in mouth disease

foot in mouth

I loved university. I loved being up to my eyeballs in something I was fascinated with. The challenges and deadlines were all bonuses on top of the actual subject and I rose to greet each one. Anyway that’s by the by, so I’m in the lecture theater and the lecture is about to end. I know I’m getting a phone call very shortly so I excuse myself to go outside to wait for the call.

I get outside and there’s a kid doubled over, sitting pretty much folded over on the side bench. I wander to the bench, my phone out, texting and looking up as I walk. And I sit down on his right side. He shuffles over a little to make room. He is not moving much and my curiosity gets the better of me and I surreptitiously glance sideways at him. Yep, he is totally bent in half, but I do see his phone in his hand and he’s got his left hand side of his face plastered to his phone. Not the left hand side as in, his ear and talking, I mean like with his eye and not talking. Possibly taking a picture of his eye? Or the pupil of his eye? So without thinking for another second I pipe up with “I think you need glasses by the looks of things!” and chuckled a little, breaking the ice and everything. And this is my problem – my brain doesn’t engage with my mouth or vice versa – they work independently (against me!) so this is where I have ended up with this Foot in Mouth Disease – I’m a a frequent flyer.

Well, this kid looks up at me and one eye is covered with that cloud, the cloud that means that they can’t see much of anything out of that eye and the other one is scarred too.

He says, “It’s the only way I can see my texts – glasses won’t help…” I’m sitting there like an idiot. But I did what I usually do and chose not to ignore the elephant.

“So what happened to your eyes?” I asked.

He looked up from his phone again – well, as best as he could, and explained that he had been walking down Queen Street and it was winter. A super stormy day, and Queen Street can become like a wind tunnel on days like that. He had a jacket on that zipped up and as he grappled in the wind with it, the zip sliced across his eye, blinding him totally in his right eye and severely impinging on his sight in his left.

“I’m so sorry dude – really impressed you’re at university…I didn’t mean to be rude by the way….” I trailed off. He smiled, “It’s OK,” he says to me, ” at least you didn’t just walk away – that’s the worst. Everyone knows something’s up with my fricken vision. Lots of people don’t know what to do when they’re confronted with something unexpected…”

We were silent for a split second.

“I’m sorry this happened to you…. but I see in spite of a universal fuck-up in your life, you’re still here, still givin’ it all that!” he laughed at me and I laughed too.

“Often people so let the wrong things define who they are, or the worst things. The fact that you rise above this defines who you are.” He looked at me with a serious frown, somewhat created due to his lack of vision.

“Thank you for that, I needed to hear that right now…” he said.

I didn’t know his name but I did know much more about him than just some letters to identify him to his friends, family, fellow students and work colleagues. Not only that, but I found out even more about myself, or maybe about people. We all share commonalities – common likes, enemies, feelings, injustices etc. We all share bonds and those deeper threads of what make us who we are are far more interesting and important than your name, your clothes, your home, car, bank account…we truly are here to fill our souls and not our wallets. I take my soul with me when I go – I will leave my earthly belongings behind.

© Kait King, 2015

We love you Mum

We love you Mum
And we have to say
It’s not fair you only get one day
When every second of every minute
We thank the Universe for putting you in it
There are not enough words
In any language spoken
All we have is a small token
Of our love to give
Reflected in the life we live
We’d tell you every single day
How much we love you in every way
Without you, we’d be nothing
Without your love, we’d not survive
Without your grace, care and kindness
We’d be born another child
So we thank you Mum
We are grateful for who we are
The equal sum of you and Dad
Have made us who we are

© Kait King, 2015

Unvaxxed didn’t do enough….Seriously?!?!

I’m shocked, heartbroken and feel betrayed! I yelled as loud as I could at every protest. Was called everything under the sun  for saying the vaxx was poison. I lost friends and family, they turned their back on  me while I begged them to look at the research. I posted on every platform about the deception of our governments, the big pharma and corruption, elitists benefiting from our grief and pain. I know there were thousands of us yelling at the top of our voices, desperate to stop the madness. MSM shut us down and lied, social platforms restricted, banned us and lied, and the vaxxed themselves excluded us from their businesses, homes and families. They called us the river of filth, said we should die if we got covid, that we didn’t deserve medical care, a coffee, a haircut, to LIVE – for TWO FUCKING YEARS! Whoever wrote this is still blind, still asleep, still stupid. I know I’ve done and am doing my part and feel no guilt, just betrayal and disappointment.

https://instagram.com/stories/goodliontv/3026020002785234533?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igshid=NTU1Mzc3ZGM=

Demon, call my name

Demon –

Call me Frightalicious

Ghouls and Trolls

Ghosts and Monsters alike

Scaring, creeping, screaming death

Freaking the fuck out

of your night

Don’t start breathing

Hold it in

The Beasts of Evil

Burned like Sin

thumping heart, frightened mind

trembling like the child inside

Don’t you let them –

Not this time…

© Kait King, 2015

Are You OK?

No, I’m not OK

she said

And I didn’t know

what to do

But all she really needed

was someone to

talk to

Not everything is

fixable

or even wants to

be fixed, so

we learn to live with

special things

sometimes things we would

never show

some things are just too ugly

to let anybody know

© Kait King, 2016

The Colour of Forgotten

Inhale me

breathe me

full of love

in our

rustic orange

dreams

in a dusty rose

forgetfulness

and a place

of forgotten

feelings

touch my soul

keep me there

quiet

perfect

and whole

© Kait King, 2015

Freedom Fighter

You won’t take away

my Freedom

You won’t take away

my Voice

You won’t tear me away

from my Family

And you won’t dare take away

my Choice

You won’t ostracize

my Family, no

Or stop me from seeing

my Friends

We’ve all had enough

of this shit and

this is where it

ENDS

Kait King

24th October 2021

A Theft of Burglars

A theft of burglars
crept into the night
they knew where
they were going
they had a place in sight
As they scuttled through
the darkened street
you could feel their energy
tense…
but upbeat
They were not all that young
in fact they were nearly all forty
and had been slapped on the wrist –
many times,
told they were naughty.
They all knew this time
that it was not the same
They were tired of pilfering
the small stuff
and wanted
bigger game
So the hunters they clambered
and climbed over a wall
Avoiding CCTV cameras
and a police phone call
Entering the darkened house
gold and cash
was all they saw
It hadn’t really dawned on them
there were people there
at all
So when the mother,
who was all alone,
got out of bed to
defend their home,
The burglars, they
did not take flight
the burglars, they stayed
and put up a fight
The burglars, they took off
as murderers into the night
and the murderers, they knew
that they had taken
a life

© Kait King, 2016

To My Rapist

Would you know who I was if I stood in front of you?

Would you remember my name?

That I wasn’t even thirteen when you raped me?

When you shared me with your brother while I cried?

Do you remember panting into my ear that you would still leave me a virgin?

That no one would know?

Do you know that I’ve never forgotten you,

Your name,

Your face,

Your smell,

Your breath,

Your whisper….

This could read like a love story, yet all I felt from you was nothing.

Like I was nothing.

I meant nothing

I was worth nothing

To you.

Do you know I went home that day and tried to kill myself – and several times after that….

You would never know the harm you bestowed on me that day, you and your foolish, fumbling brother.

You don’t know how I’ve carried this around my whole life. I paid and kept paying while you and your brother languish in ignorant bliss.

You have no idea how many times the experience you gave me  has crept in and corrupted my life.

You have no idea that you forever changed me.

You single-handedly changed my life’s path.

You changed who I was supposed to be….

And I’ll never forgive you for that.

Kait King 14th March 2024

GuN

GuN 56811969dbbcd4aba77e748aec93ce72--fille-gangster-gangster-girl

retaliation

is the

explanation

given as to why

our kids

are dying

and expiration

is the

destination

leaving your friends

and family

crying

Kait King 2017