I wish I could tell her

I wish I could tell her

While she’s trying harder

working it out

all her problems, hangups, pity and

self-doubt

And she tries too hard to achieve

because she’s lonely, angry,

she’s had no love to eat

And as far as this woman knows

it’s like a picture, no – a painting

or a movie, too slow

As far as this woman knows

it’s like fighting the fight

but not a fight that you chose

So she’s crying alone

no sleep at night

I wish I could find her

and tell her –

it will all be all right

© Kait King, 2015

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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

Lucky

Lucky

Every second we suck in air, a child is hurt or dying somewhere in the world – that makes air a pretty high commodity and a very expensive way to look at breathing our air. Therefore make it worthwhile, make it count, but make it count in love and kindness, caring and passing on joy – not just to children but to all. Breathe your air with purpose, you’re really lucky, every day is a blessing 🙂 Kait King 2016

Rock Bottom

Rock bottom

I hit rock bottom

I sat on that bottom rock

weeds and roots tethered me close

and not in a Lovers’ Lock

Catatonic in my despair

broken like a car crash victim

I clutched at straws and sucked in air

feeling like I needed Lithium

Overwhelmed by what I’m not

broken by what I was

fighting what it has to be

a fallen star, a lost cause, tell it as it is

that old me will never leave

it’s a part of what makes me

my body may have let me down

but when I write – I’m free

© Kait King, 2015

Trust me

Trust me

Meet me in the middle

and I’ll take you to the end

Tell me that you trust me

and I’ll let you be my friend

Promise me the world

and it’ll fall at your feet

Run the faster race

’cause it’s me you have to beat

Don’t believe in rumours

and they won’t control your life

Believe in what you want to be

and step into that light

© Kait King, 2015

Crystal Meth-I-Didn’t-Mean (Methamphetamine)

methididntmean-drugabuse_shutterstock-164052779-blowing-smoke-cloud-meth-fi

Crystal Meth

An addicts’ breath

Inhales a smoky dream

In reality

You’re never free

Just a brains’ endless scream

Crystal Meth

Talk in depth

Required by any means

Close to death

That last crystal breath

It’s not as great as it seems

Crystal Meth

Families bereft

Bury a loved one, crying

Cold caress

This Crystal Meth

And our children keep on dying

© Kait King, 2016

Thought # 1

thought 1

If you’re very rarely or never told “No” or don’t have to wait or work for anything, will it be a harder struggle to get on in the World? (This is based on most normal and reasonable of situations – single or separate parenting included and of course, on a continuum).

In the “Real World” no one else treats you the same way as your parents do. No one else cares the same way for you as your parents do. No one else in the World will give you the same leeway. Will one lack a certain resilience because one can’t deal with a No, or don’t understand why it’s a No?

Your Ego takes a beating, hearing all those ‘yeses’ and how wonderful you are at everything and then a No would just take the wind right out of your sails, it’s a shock. Is it about that resilience? Even against adversity and with all the curve balls life throws you, wouldn’t it be better to be able to face that adversity? I am not talking about being a nagging No Hound about everything – but I do think we need to prepare our children for “out there”! Just tell them the truth, make them stand for something, let them know what their strengths and weaknesses are and let them embrace them all and use them to their best advantage in this crazy Life.

If it is about resilience then we must give our children that strength and fight. They need these things to be able to survive – and not just survive but to live well.

Kait King 2017

Junkie Corner and Gangster Avenue

gangster ave

Who’s hanging where

and why are they hanging here?

Are they sucking up the light?

Or just too noisy in the night?

Have the neighbors had enough

Are the gangs a tad too tough?

Do they scare you with their masks

and their everyday drug tasks?

Standing on a corner street

a clusterfuck of hopeless

listening to some grind beat

you just need to smoke, pop, toke this

there is no other option

but for crap minimum wage

Nothing there that stops them

And lucky to reach old age

© 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