Is it

Is it

So do you think it may annoy you

should I love you too much

That time would trap you in a heartbeat

If I won’t give you up

Is it crazy to think

that you will only touch my skin

stroke my hair

and let me in

Will it be overwhelming if I say

I love you every day

leave notes in your lunchbox

and always want you to stay

the night

the week

forever

Is it rude of me to want all of you

not a share, a percentage or a piece

but the everything and nothingness

of you

the very most and the very least

© Kait King, 2015

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In spite of

inspiteof

I don’t believe you have nothing to say

that you don’t want to stand up

and shout

“don’t treat me that way”

I don’t believe you can keep quiet

for very much longer

the hate in you grows stronger

even though you deny it

it kills you every day

I don’t believe there is happiness in you

that you skip through every day

that your glasses are a rose-colored hue

that you are not reliant in almost every way

but that’s just not true

You drag yourself through every day

knowing that he will

punch you

humiliate you

control you

and you want to kill him

for killing you –

you try to think of another way

but nothing else will do

you have no money, no car or hope

this mean,

ugly-spirited human

says you can’t cope

in the real world

But you know that’s not true –

right?

© Kait King, 2015

Oh no, I can’t get over it…

Getting over it - whatever

Somehow you get through – it’s not even that you learn to live with these things – they stay in our lives forever as part of who we are. In fact these are the things that make us who we are. They used to say this kind of suffering was character building. That may or may not be so, for me, it allows great reflection and understanding of my capacity to love and give love and in turn what it means to lose that.

One of the annoying things friends and family expect, is for you to “get over it” after a certain amount of time – whatever that time is. But there is nothing to get over. You can’t just imagine it’s behind you – things are not behind us, they are all a part of us. We carry them with the sum of ourselves. Maybe by putting things behind us we let our guard down, we love too easily again, we get hurt so much more because of that. Taking the good and the bad experiences is what makes you the person you are. Are you a fighter? Do you runaway? Are you persistent? Do you give up? Whatever you do, you have to live with it – you don’t learn to live with it – there is no manual. You have no choice, choice has been removed from this section of your life and a loss of some kind has left a crater and a giant rock in the same place. Luckily the giant rock plugs up a lot of the feelings for a while – this is often known as shock. Eventually the putridness of your trapped feelings in this hole in your heart starts building up a mass of toxic gasses which must be expelled. This build up, over any period of time (as long as it takes you), causes a massive explosion. The giant rock is blasted apart from the hole in your heart. The tiny splinters of angst, hurt, devotion, honor,disbelief, love and any other betrayed related feeling you can imagine, is dug deeply into your heart and mind. Each little splinter of that pain has barbs of doubt, guilt and confusion holding them in place in your heart. And we can’t let go or it can’t let go of us or we don’t give ourselves permission to keep moving forward even though we are cemented in that time of tragedy and know that’s impossible, isn’t it?

The hard part is learning to navigate around these losses, grievances and betrayals, eventually like a powerful river we keep flowing around these rocks of hurt that seem like they will never shift or move. But they do erode – the erosion is so subtle and slow we don’t even notice and so it is, I believe, with tragedy, loss and grief; be that for a living being or a relationship of any kind. Loss leaves a big hole and a giant rock that you drag around with you all the time. Afterwards we question everything said and done, what could have been different, the “if only’s” and the “what if’s” with hopeless, empty dreams. Nothing can be changed. It is what it is, but I know I fight against this too, even though I understand the futility of the fight!

I think only in time will I manage to erode down that rock of loss, will I be able to take the sharp edges off and flow a little easier around the things put in my way that I have no way of changing. Perhaps time won’t heal the wounds, but perhaps time allows my river of life to smooth the edges of hurt. Perhaps it lets me build up strength so that I can push past that hurt easier, every time I have to go past that hurt again. Because it doesn’t go away….

I am a Winner

iamawinner

Everyone is so obsessed with winning at everything – work, sports, relationships – absolutely everything. I wonder if those people who are so focused on winning every argument, every game, every decision – have ever thought that they can let it go – like everybody’s a winner in the biggest race of all as far as I’m concerned. If you’ve been born then you have won the biggest race of all! You are a winner – the biggest winner out of thousands of other sperm that were in a race for life – I am a winner – we won! Now let’s just succeed at being our own very best here instead of obsessing about being better than someone else’s best…

Equal but Different – Let’s Celebrate!

Equality lets 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 are 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 hope of a Utopia? Please say it isn’t so….

© Kait King, 2015

What I want to believe Real Women want

what i want to believe real woman want

I’m quite happy being a Woman

I don’t want to be a Man

I don’t want to scratch my nuts

or take out the trash can

I don’t understand the confusion

about the Man and Woman sequel

Of course we are very Different

Different, but still very Equal

I am proud to be the Carer

The Fantastical Giver of Life

the gentle softness of

a safe place to fall

When you return from

a hard days’ fight

My Man, the strong Protector

The Bringer of that Life

who will be Honoured to care for me Truly

and with Pride

would call me his Wife

© Kait King, 2015

Born out of love 

Jay hand feeding the seagulls at Manly Beach June 2016.jpg

Jay hand feeding the seagulls at Manly Beach – 9th June 2016

Last night my son, Jay, called from Australia. I love hearing from him and since he’s been away I’ve thought alot on how we battled along when he was young.

I was pretty much a single mum. Of course I had men in my life. I was easy on the eye so naturally men drifted around the proverbial honey-pot. At one point I was working three jobs and still picking Jay up from school and being a full-time mum. I went to a women’s gym and learned wrestling and kick-boxing. Jay would come with me to the gym. He loved it – all of the women cooed over him, played with him and taught him some moves which he promptly practiced on his mates at school and got into trouble for.

I had a nanny job from 3 pm till 7 pm during the week which Jay could also come to. The little boy I was looking after was the same age as Jay and they had a great time playing while I cleaned up the house, chucked a wash on and got dinner sorted before we started some homework which meant Jay got his done too. So like all single mums I juggled. I had a house cleaning job during the day before school ended and also was selling international phone time and signing people up for cheaper international calls. I look back and wonder where on earth did I get all of that energy from? Like a little energizer batteried bunny I just kept going and going and going. My parents were not here in NZ at the time and Jay’s father just seemed to forget about him. Both of his parents were dead, he was a fair bit older than me and had already experienced this loss, therefor Jay didn’t have fraternal grandparents and his maternal ones were in South Africa – a million miles away. So I had no family here and therefore no baby-sitters. I couldn’t afford to pay someone and have money to go out as well.

My main focus was to make sure our home was of a particular standard and that we were located next to the best schools within the district. And that our cat, Gorgeous George, was allowed. Those were critical things I required when renting a property.

So I worked super hard and was a high achiever at pretty much anything I did – even cleaning a fricken toilet was worth my integrity. Anyway, I wanted to give Jay everything. When he was really little of course, he didn’t care, but as he got older and was influenced by the media and peers, things changed. He wanted brand named clothes and shoes etc. It was really hard. It was hard to say I can’t do that or I don’t have that. He had feelings of anger towards me as he grew up into that ‘tween’ stage. He struggled to understand that I had been prepared to leave money, boats and a glamorous life behind me. He didn’t understand that I had taken the most important thing. That nothing but he, Jay, was the most precious thing for me to take. His father didn’t want him, he wasn’t prepared to participate physically, financially or emotionally in Jay’s life.

Even though all of the correct papers were filled out with the divorce and him agreeing to me having full custody, he never financially supported us. I did it on my own. Jay’s father managed to wangle out of any requirement to help support his son. Do you know, the government determined that the father should pay $11.00 a week towards Jay’s keep. That’s why I had 3 jobs. That’s why things were really hard and I had no family to fall back on. Jay and I were the family. I tried to make a family, I wanted a father-figure in Jay’s life. I couldn’t be a mum and a dad. I was a mum, that’s where all my instincts, hormones and chemicals took me – to Mumsville. I didn’t know how to be a dad and neither did I want to.

So we battled along, and it truly was a struggle – we went through the ups and downs of life. We both survived and came out the other end. Now, my beautiful son is so his own person, in spite of the hard times, or is it because of them? When he was in his early twenties and working at real jobs, his money just vanished. He would buy $300 pairs of jeans or shoes, a $75 T-shirt, after shave – living a champagne lifestyle on a beer salary. We had many arguments about money. I gave him money and helped him out, perhaps when I shouldn’t have – in fact many times I think I should have let him flounder but it was just not in me as a mother to watch my son flounder. See, that’s when a father is needed, some hard arse stuff!

Off Jay goes to Oz, he knows he needs to get away to grow and find himself. While I was available it was easy for him to fall back on me. Now, on his own in Australia he was living his own life. He learned who he was and has defined himself. It all comes back to that phone call last night that made my heart swell up so big. Last night he said he realized money was not what he wanted in life. What he wanted was to make a difference in the world. It is one of the proudest moments I have had. Only a few years ago, when I was at university, I had a piece of paper stuck to my wall with:” I will make a difference!” written on it in black marker pen. I woke up every day and went to sleep every night seeing that piece of paper and believing in myself and what I was doing. I wanted to help children and make a difference. Jay saw that paper, he saw my determination, he saw my passion. The parallel belief between myself and my son tells me something. It tells me that I have done the right thing. He wants to save the world, he wants to spread peace, harmony and love. I am so proud of him and there is a sense of relief for me – kind of like my job is done here, but of course not. I have much to do – even from my bed, but not as much as Jay!

Jay will make a difference, he already has and will keep walking that walk – you deserve all things good, my son.

God’s Diamonds

Gods Diamonds 7d9eebc0cd7e02435bcf750956ebccba

God left diamonds

in my garden today

Draped elegantly over tall

wild grasses

clinging in teardrop perfection

from the arch of an unfurling koru

God left diamonds

in my garden today

The sun pushing a rainbow

paradigm through this

sparkling rare

jewel of Nature

God left diamonds

in my garden today

Worn with a breathtaking beauty

a spider’s web is adorned

Dripping in dew-drop diamonds

A lavish gold in sunlight

Every color of

every gem in any brilliant spectrum

lies here at my feet

in the garden

the beauty around me

The Earth

She is my wealth –

God left diamonds in my garden…

Kait King 2017