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

Lovers lock

lovers lock

Lovers locked

in this bittersweet

ride

Trapped in the momentum

a beat of the heart

Skipping through hope

not a care in the

world

Lovers locked close

just a boy

and a girl

© Kait King, 2015

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

Sometimes a word

Sometimes

Touching many or touching none,

the joy it brings just touching one –
with a torrent of words cleverly writ,

from the coolest phrases in ancient Sanskrit

or perhaps a scribe in a guttural foreign word

is the sweetest thing anybody had heard

And the English language with it’s redonkulous rules

where no matter how good you are it still makes you a fool

sometimes

© Kait King, 2016

Daily grind of a good guy

Daily grind

I come home

the cat’s at my feet

kids are crying

but there’s nothing made to eat

It’s a hard day at work

with paper knee deep

and the heater’s broken

so I can’t get to sleep

Yet another day comes

we follow like sheep

I can’t find the faith

to make that big leap

I know I shouldn’t take it in

so very, very deep

But it seems to be sort of extra hard

when you aren’t someone who cheats

© Kait King, 2015

  Another song for Jay

Jay in school (8yrs)

There’s a part of me

that will always go on

I’ve shared this with our Mother Earth

She called him my son

There’s nothing so wild

as the ride that we’re on

mother and child a bond

we hold on

And there you were

with paintbrush eyelashes

A baby blue blanket

and everything about you was so small

And here you are

with a shy tattoo on you

An eye, ear, lip piercing

And everything about you now is tall

There’s all of you

that makes me smile

When you hug me so big and

hang around for a while

There’s you and me and then

everybody else

I never knew that it would be you

to teach me about myself

© Kait King, 2015

I love you Jay 🙂 xxx

Duty, Cathedrals and St Francis

Duty st francis and cathedrals

Please be kind to all animals!

I walk in

I can’t speak

the reverence

sucks the air

out of me

candles glitter

in shapes of love

for all of the animals

bestowed from above
And if it is what

they say to be true,

if I’m shaped like the shape

of a god, just like you,

I know that I am duty-bound

to share that love for all

all around

© Kait King, 2015

Please Be Kind To All Animals

I Just Wanted

i-just-wanted

I just wanted

to be happy

As baffling as

that may seem

I just wanted to

spread Kindness

Remove the idea

of being mean

I just wanted

to have Peace

As impossible as

that seems

but it’s ok, they say,

to always have dreams

There is no need to

“stand your ground”

It isn’t yours, for a start

It will still be here

When we’re not around

It’s much better to leave

a piece of your Heart

© Kait King, 2016

Mother’s Day every day

My Mum and Dad in Queen St, Auckland 1956

I walk down the aisle

my eyes passing over cards

words springing out

about Mum going

the whole nine yards

And I stop to read a few

The words just seem

insipid

when I think of you,

Mum

A journey into the intrepid

Four babies later

and over 60 years married

Through wars, tonsillitis,

tears and love you tarried

Now here I am

a mother too

And these words I say: “I love you”

Have also come

from my son’s mouth

and heart

But to say them to you

doesn’t even begin to start

to express what a fantastic Mum you’ve been

You’ve done a good job,

I’m a good human being

So I tell you you’re an amazing Mum

and people are proud of the job you’ve done!

© Kait King, 2015

The gift is Home

our family

Nothing says home like the food you know, the smells that trigger head movies and the comforting arms and hands that picked you up and helped you mix and stir and “help” cooking when you were a kid. They now welcome you back into the fold, embrace your grown-upness but still visualised as the child, as you will always be. Family time is noise in the kitchen, clattering dishes and chattering mouths – we women of many words create more warmth with our talking breath, better than the lukewarm sun does, trying to impress us through a shameless glass. The men, young and old – three generations of my blood, gather around the finger food that has been laid out to stop them from starving before the main meal…if you believe that, you will believe anything.

My father, the patriarch, his unwilling body fighting his sharp, determined mind – his sharp, determined mind that used to beat his body has put its hands up and retreated. His brain is stronger than anything else, bar maybe his heart. He peers over his heavily framed glasses all the better to see a watch face his grandson has handed him to look at. His 80 year old eyes squint and recognise, the information is swift and he says the battery is a blah blah…..his mind as sharp as a knife. His son-in-law hands him a glass of wine which he carefully holds, the glass is heavy and cumbersome to him, due to his muscular dystrophy. He already can’t lift the glass to his lips but our mother brings straws with them so that he doesn’t have to.

His grandson, Jay, is a loud kid and is learning to pull his head in, but does show signs of promise with his unresearched fury at certain injustices. Maybe the same way my father felt about all of those things 60 years or more ago. My father brought all of us up to question everything, accept nothing at face value and to take risk in a positive way. He had a strong sense of what was right and fair and he brought four crusaders into the world to carry on that legacy. Give a shit, the majority of the population won’t – so you just have to. It’s your duty as a human being with the gift of life on this earth…