Were you ever really here?

Dad in the middle - Holland

Sometimes I wonder if you were

ever really here

Somehow I know what’s true

when you were always there

But as life returns back

to a more even keel

I can’t help this wonderment

this dreamlike existence I feel

You are gone yet you remain

and as the world lazily spins on the same

those 70’s and 80’s – a very different look

maybe just a new chapter in my new story book

As you are not really gone

I will sing your same old song

And I will die at my age and my son

will turn the next blank page

© Kait King, 2015

Go towards the light….

go towards the light

When I was a kid I grew up in a place called Somerset West in South Africa. It was beautiful and I have amazing memories living there with all of the beautifully changing landscapes and incredible wildlife. I used to go to school with a chameleon or a tobacco roller snake curled up in my pocket. I lived, breathed and ate horses (I always hated that saying – I would die before I ate a horse)…maybe…anyway, I was a happy-go-lucky kid. My parents were wonderfully social butterflies, having many dinners and do’s that were amazing. I would sneak downstairs and take a look at all the beautiful people and listen to their laughter and tinkling cutlery. My mother would let me have dessert upstairs while I watched TV way later than what I was supposed to. I had the dogs and cat crowded up in the den and kept hoping that I would be forgotten and could stay here, just like this, always.

Well that didn’t happen and life trundled on – I must have been about 14 or 15 years old and had my first boyfriend. My parents were out one night and so my boyfriend Mike, and I were over at my friends’ house across the road. Before we left we made sure the dogs were not able to get into the lounge, a light on the front porch was left on for when we came back and everything was locked up.

So we had a fun night with our friends’ and decided it was time to head back – my parents would be home soon and Mike had to go home too. We walked hand in hand down the long dark driveway and headed across the road. My house was lit up like a birthday cake. Every light in the house was on. Mike and I stopped dead in our tracks with our mouths open. I went to hurry forward and Mike held me back. We approached with more caution. The front door was also open…and all of the windows. We were terrified but for some reason instead of going back to my friends’ house we kept going towards mine. Mike pushed the front door open and we slowly went in – I was hanging on to Mike for dear life! Everything was super bright with every single light turned on, the guest toilet lights, the reading lamps beside the beds and the main lights…what the hell was going on? What was really weird is that the dogs were bailed into a corner in the kitchen. Not even where their beds were but squashed under the breakfast table. Now we had a Great Dane (Cleo), a Labrador (Lottie) and a Bouvier des Flanders crossed with an English Sheepdog, (Charlie). These were not little dogs or scaredy-cat dogs for that matter, yet they were cowering and terrified of coming out when Mike and I went in. Usually they were delighted to see us and went crazy even if we had only been gone for twenty minutes. The cat, Fluffy-bum, was nowhere to be seen either.

Mike and I scoured the house and turned off the lights and closed the windows – man, we were creeped out. Mike had to go so I reluctantly saw him off and kept the dogs close. I made sure I locked the front door behind me and checked the downstairs windows with a trail of pets behind me. While I wandered around the house trying to feel safe, yet believing I may be locking something in with me rather than keeping something out.

Suddenly I could smell something burning. I poked my nose outside to find out if there was a bush fire somewhere but I could only smell the delicately cloying Wisteria and Jasmine that threaded the hedge. I hurriedly retraced my steps, the dogs got in the way of course and I stumbled over them several times in my hurry. I couldn’t find anything that was turned on now – I had turned it all off! I checked the power outlets all around and unplugged anything that wasn’t being used but nothing was melted or smelt as if it was burning. I checked the oven, the laundry where the iron was – nothing, not a heated thing. I went into the den and turned on the TV. Lottie, Cleo and Charlie followed me in and clambered onto the sofa with me. Fluffy-bum had turned up and wiggled her way in amongst all of the dogginess. I wondered when Mum and Dad would be home, I hoped soon…

Next to the sofa was an old cane rocking chair and foot stool that would now and again crack due to the change in temperature so that was nothing new. But y’know how cats suddenly stop doing what they are doing and just stare at something you know is not human and may be a ghost or something like that. But you don’t want to believe it when it’s in your own lounge. So Fluffy-bum is washing herself, and the dogs’ faces in between their fluttering lip snores and does this petrified statue thing, looking at the old cane rocking chair. It cracks and I think nothing of it. Something has changed, the snoring has stopped and all three dogs are awake, lying there with their eyes open but they had not picked up their heads. That was really strange – they leapt up at anything in a race to meet it, greet it or eat it.

The cane chair cracked some more and then became regular as the chair started tipping back and forth, rocking… I shot straight off the sofa – cat and dogs flying. Something had changed in me – I was fed up with this torturous unknowing. I stormed over to the lounge door – ripped it open and yelled over my shoulder, “GET OUT! YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE – GET OUT!” and carried on like a tornado to the front door – ripped that one open, after I fumbled around unlocking it and yelled the same thing behind me. I stopped in my tracks as I felt something move and shift in the atmosphere.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered, “I’m scared of you, I don’t know who you are but I don’t want you here. You need to go to the light, just go…” and I closed the front door. I walked back into the lounge, I felt shattered but hugely relieved. I looked towards the welcoming sofa where Lottie, Charlie, Cleo and Fluffy-bum sat waiting. They looked relaxed and content. I plonked myself down and Fluffy-bum came over, she looked up at me and closed her beautiful green eyes in a smile of thanks and curled up on my lap after a couple of raspy kisses on my hand. Somebody released some of their dogginess and we were almost back to normal. I heard Mum and Dad’s purring car and saw the headlights sweep over the windows in a comforting light – wondering if whomever I had chased out of our house felt as comforted as I did right now, I really hoped so.

Beauty Boundless

Jay and George

Jay and George

Beauty Boundless

child of mine

with hopeful heart

and fascinated mind

Beauty Boundless

land of mine

filled with color

seen by the blind

Beauty Boundless

spirit of mine

where love will rest

till the end of time

© Kait King, 2015

Anyway, Any way

Anyway Any way

I so wish

I could have

been a better mum

But he still loves me

anyway

I see the photo

next to me

Colors blue and grey

you and I

Not much to spend

but time

and he still loves me

anyway

I feel I may have

failed you in

too many ways

to count

In spite of that

you are a beautiful

soul

and you still love me,

anyway

Kait King 16/7/2018

 

 

 

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

The Most Important Thing

THe most important thing racoon

She married him

when she was 23

and he was 37

She thought she’d met

Prince Charming

and he thought he’d gone

to Heaven

It didn’t take long tho’

for him to change

his song

And feel like he

was imprisoned

It happened so fast,

turned life on its arse –

she fell undeniably

and beautifully pregnant

She had her baby alone

while he drank and whored

in their home

No, it hadn’t been long

he was just bored

and it was just wrong

He had already been here

twice in his life

He had other children

and more than one wife

So with dignity

and as a lady

she took nothing

with her

just her baby

She didn’t want half

of the furniture

or a share of

the bling

She knew

she had kept

the most important thing

© 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

What can we do about child abuse? Phase One – Sexual

I would just like to say this is purely my opinion based on the knowledge and research I have undertaken. I would like to also note that I have absolutely nothing against consenting adults indulging in whatever they agree upon but this is not the case with child abuse. Apologies in advance if I offend anyone, although, not if you’re a paedophile or an abuser or violator of any kind!

1.) Understand the Paedophile

There is no race, country, religion, creed, colour or status that child abuse does not touch. With or without; money, love, two parents, exceptional education or anything and everything money can or cannot buy, will not identify who will and who will not be touched by child abuse. The innate behaviour of a paedophile can’t be changed. I use the word innate as it is – it is a preference that a paedophile is behaviourally, innately (not by choice – like being homosexual) attached to and can’t change. For example, I am a straight female – heterosexual. There is no amount of counselling, medication, psychiatric, religious or any other kind of “help” to be offered to me to change the fact that I am heterosexual – you cannot counsel me into being a lesbian or a fetishist or to like B&D if that is not part of my reptilian brain sexuality and not who I, innately, am.

Perhaps if we took more of an attitude that paedophiles cannot be rehabilitated (as science realised with homosexuality – it is their sexuality and not a choice), perhaps then less harm would come to our children. The majority of paedophiles who go through rehabilitation programmes re-offend again and very quickly. How would you go through life without sexual gratification, particularly during the peak of your hormonal life without any sexual gratification even though there are numerous opportunities for you to fulfil that desire – and yet you can not. This is irrational and unreasonable to expect of someone’s sexuality. Sexuality is what we are hot-wired for as human beings. It is what makes the world turn. So with that being said, with sexuality such a massive part of our being as human beings to survive – how on earth can we possibly expect a known paedophile not to re-offend?

We look at the paedophile through our own eyes and perception – a “non-pedocentric” view, whereas we need to know how a paedophile perceives the world and his opportunity, his innateness and where he can be tripped up. We need to do extensive research into common identifiers paedophiles use to select a child to groom, whether on-line or in the real world scenario. They will be very different scenarios, also whether familial or non-familial grooming. The majority of offending against children was familial, but now with the internet and the availability that strangers have to our children, this is swaying. We need to do everything – not something – but everything to protect OUR children the world over. A society should be measured by the way it takes care of its’ vulnerable populations, not by how many meetings/summits/discussions a country pays for to discuss which assets should be sold or a lot of hot air where nothing changes but the hotel break was lovely and the food was great! For who’s benefit?

This is just the start of something I would like to continue writing about – this is Part One of goodness knows how many pieces, as this topic is fricken massive, but needs to be addressed. It is something that eats away at my heart and soul every day and so I hope whether you agree, disagree, have other stories, please share, please get involved because the more we talk about this, the more we find out, the more we can change. I mean, imagine if we could find out that the majority of paedophiles pick children who, for example, don’t make eye contact or wear the colour yellow – we would at least have something to work with. We must empower our children and remove power from the paedophile. I believe in the 35c solution for paedophiles – or use them for testing instead of our innocent animals – either way, they are taking up OUR kids air that they should not have to fear breathing anywhere at any time.

© Kait King, 2015

In Phase 2 I would like to continue with addressing the innate behaviour of the paedophile and the impossibilities of changing this, but with regards to desire and not just behaviour.

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

Boy

Boy (Jay)

I watch you grow in

the sunshine of my love

with raindrops of pure joy

you fall around me

endlessly

In the deepest, darkest shadows

You shine your brightest light

every day

every night

My baby boy

you turn my life around

Baby boy

you turn my life upside down

As the seconds with you turn into years

your fearless journey with

true innocence moves away

suddenly you’re a schoolboy

with a schoolbag

who won’t hold my hand anyway

My baby boy

you turn my life around

Beautiful boy

you turn life upside down

Strong enough to climb

the tallest tree

your big brown eyes smile down

your laughter falling like autumn

leaves

fall to cover me

© 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

Just Because….

Just because

Just because he’s fat

you can’t leave him out

like that

And even if it’s so

inside he’s like you,

y’know

And even when we’re angry

and think we are not wrong

it’s best to love and forgive

and learn to get along

Just because she’s different

and cannot see by choice

take a moment to listen

to her gifted singing voice

Because everyone’s born perfect

from different points of view

and the world would really be

quite boring

if they were all like me

and you

© Kait King, 2016

Creepy Creep Creeping

Creep_Film_Still-570x380

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

A Theft of Burglars

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

For Anyone’s Peace of Mind

Jay in wind

To a Child

Every time you leave, or I am leaving you, or stepping onto a plane or into a car, – basically every time we part, I wish the last words you hear from me to be: “I love you”. Because maybe one day they will be the last words you will hear from me and I want you to know how well you were loved, by me.

From a Mother