Please Don’t…

please don't

Please don’t make me feel stupid

for cherishing you

Don’t laugh at my love

I don’t know what else to do

Although I guess it’s pretty clear

that I’m not the one for you

© Kait King, 2015

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Glazed and confused

glazed n 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

Blink of an Eye

Domestic violence

that Evil Beast

Thriving on hurt

when all you want

is Peace

Insecure person

always comparing in loss

Punching out your feeble Anger

But your Family pays the cost

Vulnerable? Were you

beaten yourself?

Shouldn’t you know better

than to put them through

this Hell?

Poor little person…

Is that what you want

them to think?

So here you stand at

a Crossroad

You can change all of this

in a Blink

Kait King 2017

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

StaleMate

StaleMate

I’m tired of you

And you’re tired

of me too

We see it in

each other

and we know what

we must do

But who has

the bed?

There was only

ever one, not two

What about the

fridge? The stereo

and our cat, Moon?

How do you

separate seventeen years

of stuck together?

How do you split

a vow

that was s’posed to

be forever?

When seventeen years

is much too soon

© Kait King, 2016

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!

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?