You just don’t look
the same
Your skin so
pearlescent white
Your energy has
left us now
You’ve gone
towards the light
Your hand and cheek
cools quickly
A deathly stillness
about you, sets
If only you could
calm your family
And tell them not
to fret
You will be close
while they need you
They may even
know
But there will come a time
Sweet Angel,
when you really
have to go
© Kait King, 2016
Inspire
This Buzzy Little Feeling
There’s this buzzy
little feeling –
right in the center of me
And although my body is weighted
something in there
has zero gravity
Is that my Troubled Spirit
or could it be my Lonely Soul?
If I caste this bodily feeling
is it my Spirit that makes me
Whole?
© Kait King, 2016
That’s What I’m After
It’s your eyes
It’s your mouth
It’s your smile
your heart
your laughter
But it’s my heart
my fear
It’s my love
my hope
That’s what I’m after
Kait King 2017
Gasping for Air
Love flutters
like a drowning butterfly,
swallowed up
whole –
Struggling to keep my
head above the
ripples of your heart
Yet still wanting to be
hopelessly – no,
recklessly
flung into those depths
drowning…
drowning…
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
A lighter model….
I didn’t die
I’ve just upgraded
© Kait King, 2015
Oh I Didn’t See You There…
It’s going to get dark again, even if the sun is shining I know what I’m in for. Staring into nowhere with a sense of hopelessness and despair that seems to have no end at the time. So you’re back, you’ve returned with your sticky, clingy sadness I must wear as a shawl. It’s a shawl made of all my wrong-doings, lost dreams, failed relationships, and a frightening anxiety about the future. It weighs a tonne and I struggle to sit up in bed with it on, or get out of bed, or brush my teeth or my hair…you weigh me down, Depression.
I didn’t know I was feeling so bad until I was in the kitchen making myself a coffee…I had been thinking negatively, granted. And the cold of winter doesn’t make it easy either so the future looks grim with the situation I’m in. This is the exact time the Shawl of Depression draped herself securely around me so I had to drag myself sadly and tearfully back to my bed. I see the sky, the sun, the birds, the beauty – the beauty in everything but me and my life. Then I tell myself off for being so ungrateful and get angry at the things that stop me being who I want to be. My anger covers the fear and anxiety. I would rather be angry than scared. It’s a long process to get to angry. It’s a long, unseen, unknown process that puts me there in the first place though.
I lie facing the wall. I don’t want to look at beautiful things. My eyes are open, I’m not moving though – my breathing hasn’t changed, it’s still, rhythmical and the tears just seem to fall out of my eyes endlessly. No noise, no change, nothing – just a waterfall coming out of my face that seems like it won’t let up. I don’t understand the grief or the sadness. Perhaps it is the broken me saying goodbye to the real me but refusing to let me go… In a little bit I will sit up and write about this. It’s crippling and yet I know I have to ride this out. I know I should take a good look at those feelings but I’m just too angry at the moment…
Kait King 2017
Enhancing you
I see
the lonely landscape
of an empty soul
Someone incomplete
Someone who’s not whole
It doesn’t take another person
to make you feel as one
You must just believe in yourself
and something to enhance you
will come
© Kait King, 2015
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
Dude you need a Tic Tac!
If you are able to correct something
that is harmfully wrong ~
Then it must be done.
© Kait King, 2015
The Writers’ Blogk: Observation 4
- Integrity is everything and open-mindedness is anything when you write, whether for yourself or for the masses.
Rise Above
Jealousy
Please leave me
Let me walk free
from your grasp
Honesty
Please fill me
Set my words free
with that trust
Stupidity
Please abandon me
Let me hear twice but speak
with one voice
Integrity
Please empower me
Take over my mind and body
to make the right choice
©Kait King 2017
Sometimes a word
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 ever 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
And you’re still here …
You look at me
with such
tranquility
I believe perfection
sits here with us
I look at you
with such
admiration
to have entertained me enough
to still sit here
with me
© Kait King, 2016
My friend
Peace and love my friend,
love and light –
the sparking of two energies
will bring light into the night
© Kait King, 2016
The Writer’s Blogk: Observation 2
- Poetry, or writing, isn’t a forced process, I wake up at night to scribble down stuff. I keep a pen and notebook at hand so that I don’t lose anything – I may wake up in the clear light of day and just think it’s a load of crap….but at least I get to verify that!
When
“When you’re driven – you get places.”
© Kait King, 2015