Keyhole Kid

keyhole kid

She wasn’t afraid

but she was alone

the house was empty

nobody home

She didn’t get angry

she didn’t have to cry

she didn’t even question

that she’s alone at 5 and why

It’s hard to find a window

that opens kind of wide

even for a little person

to end up safe inside

So she huddles on the step

trying to keep warm

wishing, hoping someone comes

before all curtains are drawn

Now it starts to quietly rain

and it’s getting rather dark

So she starts to walk down the road

towards Alberta Park

We never knew what happened

to that little girl alone

I just know she’d still be here

if someone had been home…

© Kait King, 2015

Something or Something Else but never Everything

something and something else never everything

I’ve often wondered why just about everything we discuss has to be blah blah blah OR blah blah blah… Why can’t it be both? Why is it not possible that these things are symbiotic? Co-morbid? Dual catalysts? I listen to people discuss the big question of how we got here. The options, in this conversation, may I be so polite, are:

  1. We are created by God
  2. We are from an alien planet and arrived on a rock from outer space
  3. Darwin’s Theory of Evolution

Okay, so everybody’s got a point and nobody has the answer so there is some validity of possibility in each perspective. Especially if you consider the human to be made up of physical, mental and spiritual capacities and needs, which I do. And in this debate there is even more than two sides to contemplate. So each individual has solid, understandable reasons – well within reason, and are glued to the ground on what those reasons are and why. The discussion becomes what people like to call “heated”. I, totally unlike my robust debatable self, still did not get involved. I could hear the rising of offensiveness from each party as the others poo-poo’ed each others perspectives and theories. It wasn’t going to end well, nobody likes to be poo-poo’ed.

After the hoo-ha and everyone had left, my man and I plonked ourselves in front of the television, grateful for the calm noise and not the hysterical noise. Everyone would get over it but it was always the same with the topic of how we got here, not just with people I knew, but many will argue these points to the enth degree, with really, no real evidence to be honest.

So for me, I decided that being only human, I really knew sweet F.A and to tie it up nicely in my head, I just gather all of that info and think that maybe we were created by some super entity as a 3rd rock, as a planet within a universe. But that was all, then one of the stars in that universe, with life in it, crashed into this 3rd rock and was the prime delight to allow things to flourish and grow, and so it did. And things did evolve and become this amazing exotic world we are fortunate enough to live on now.

Why can’t everyone be right? They can be right somewhere in a time continuum of the human development and creation. They just all need to put their stories together. But like I say, nobody has the answers, and maybe we don’t even find out a bloody thing when we die and still know jack-shit (a good friend of mine)…

The other thing people tend to do this with is my favorite topic – serial killers. For some inane reason we have to ask whether it is nature OR nurture….it’s both for dog’s sake. If you could take a serial killer as a baby and nurture him in a certain way you will either bring out or highlight the best or the worst of that character. What I think we need to realize is that this is a possibility for every child as again, everybody has the capacity to kill, it just depends on how that is brought out in you. For some people, all that has to happen for them to pull out a gun and kill someone, is an insult outside of a bar. For others (myself included) I would have to be in a situation where my life or the life of someone was threatened and they were being hurt. Then I become the killer. We all sit somewhere on that continuum and depending on how we are treated is how we will react. But at the end of the day, intention, mens rea, is everything. So for me it is both, not one or the other in this instance too. I’ve been finding out in my life that things are not always black and white. Human beings are complex, emotional beings with such a variety of combinations of everything that it is impossible to label or put people in boxes. It just doesn’t work like that.

But I must stop rambling now – I have so much I could scribble about – but I will not bore you with my ranting and raving. I put my soapbox away…;) thanks for reading though, if you got through it!

A Prince

Prince tribute

Prince –

Royalty to Sound

Beautiful brain and

a sweet Heart

With Mastery over Music

and a Legend with Lyrics

A Revolutionary of Rock

A Mover of Spirits

Philanthropist of

a World torn

with Blessings unknown

Taken but not left entirely alone

True to Help someone

in a desperate pinch

That is the Man,

the Symbol of Prince

© Kait King, 2016

Protect Your Children From Predators: The Secret Password – please pass it forward!

secret password

A copy of a letter I sent

to all of the primary schools to save children – simple and super effective! Please pass it on

My son is 27 years old now and it has always amazed me at how many parents through those 26 years, and even now, who have no idea about the concept of the Secret Password. I used to work as a National Intelligence Support Officer for the police. I have had projects that have highlighted the danger our children are in while getting to and from school and this is an issue which is not going to go away. I have a simple solution that may help to keep children safer than they are now. My son was five and starting school, and with my background and experience I was very aware of the dangers of kerb crawlers and people who would snatch kids from off the street. So I devised this password plan, my son picked the word – at the time he believed he was allergic to zucchinis’ as he detested them so much so that became our Secret Password. This password meant that if I was unable to pick him up from school and had to send someone whom he was not familiar with, or a stranger altogether even, if they knew that Secret Password it was ok to get in the car and go with them. If the person did not know the Secret Password my son was to drop his school backpack and run like the devil was after him, (which would be the case), straight back into the school grounds and to the principal’s office. He only had to use this once, and because he did run, he is still here and I am not writing this letter to you out of a sad and broken story where the solution is all but too late. But I write this out of a realisation that something so very simple could help to protect children, our children, for they are all of our children and we all need to be responsible for helping to keep them safe. I hope you find some benefit in this little gem and hand it out to all parents and caregivers and tell all that you can please, so that this safety net is in place. I thank you for your time to read this and thank you also, for teaching our children and caring for them.

With the most sincerest intent and with regards

Kait King, BA Crim.

© Kait King, 2015

Old Words Lost

Kiss it

The Japanese have called this generation “The Strawberry Generation” – this is because they bruise easily, have no resilience and give up in a heart beat. Because everything is so readily available on-line, 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 that 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 honour a slag anyway?

No Regrets

life's too short grudges

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

Your Old Sweaty Shirt

sweaty tshirt

That’s the last thing you wore

that held your warm body close

It was the last thing before

your heart and pressure slowed

A cloth got to finally hold you

something I never got to do

People say that it was better that way

But I don’t know if that’s quite true

I hold your once sweaty t-shirt

drenched now with my own tears

and try to inhale what’s left of you

As it fades from all the years

© Kait King, 2015