Born out of love 

Jay hand feeding the seagulls at Manly Beach June 2016.jpg

Jay hand feeding the seagulls at Manly Beach – 9th June 2016

Last night my son, Jay, called from Australia. I love hearing from him and since he’s been away I’ve thought alot on how we battled along when he was young.

I was pretty much a single mum. Of course I had men in my life. I was easy on the eye so naturally men drifted around the proverbial honey-pot. At one point I was working three jobs and still picking Jay up from school and being a full-time mum. I went to a women’s gym and learned wrestling and kick-boxing. Jay would come with me to the gym. He loved it – all of the women cooed over him, played with him and taught him some moves which he promptly practiced on his mates at school and got into trouble for.

I had a nanny job from 3 pm till 7 pm during the week which Jay could also come to. The little boy I was looking after was the same age as Jay and they had a great time playing while I cleaned up the house, chucked a wash on and got dinner sorted before we started some homework which meant Jay got his done too. So like all single mums I juggled. I had a house cleaning job during the day before school ended and also was selling international phone time and signing people up for cheaper international calls. I look back and wonder where on earth did I get all of that energy from? Like a little energizer batteried bunny I just kept going and going and going. My parents were not here in NZ at the time and Jay’s father just seemed to forget about him. Both of his parents were dead, he was a fair bit older than me and had already experienced this loss, therefor Jay didn’t have fraternal grandparents and his maternal ones were in South Africa – a million miles away. So I had no family here and therefore no baby-sitters. I couldn’t afford to pay someone and have money to go out as well.

My main focus was to make sure our home was of a particular standard and that we were located next to the best schools within the district. And that our cat, Gorgeous George, was allowed. Those were critical things I required when renting a property.

So I worked super hard and was a high achiever at pretty much anything I did – even cleaning a fricken toilet was worth my integrity. Anyway, I wanted to give Jay everything. When he was really little of course, he didn’t care, but as he got older and was influenced by the media and peers, things changed. He wanted brand named clothes and shoes etc. It was really hard. It was hard to say I can’t do that or I don’t have that. He had feelings of anger towards me as he grew up into that ‘tween’ stage. He struggled to understand that I had been prepared to leave money, boats and a glamorous life behind me. He didn’t understand that I had taken the most important thing. That nothing but he, Jay, was the most precious thing for me to take. His father didn’t want him, he wasn’t prepared to participate physically, financially or emotionally in Jay’s life.

Even though all of the correct papers were filled out with the divorce and him agreeing to me having full custody, he never financially supported us. I did it on my own. Jay’s father managed to wangle out of any requirement to help support his son. Do you know, the government determined that the father should pay $11.00 a week towards Jay’s keep. That’s why I had 3 jobs. That’s why things were really hard and I had no family to fall back on. Jay and I were the family. I tried to make a family, I wanted a father-figure in Jay’s life. I couldn’t be a mum and a dad. I was a mum, that’s where all my instincts, hormones and chemicals took me – to Mumsville. I didn’t know how to be a dad and neither did I want to.

So we battled along, and it truly was a struggle – we went through the ups and downs of life. We both survived and came out the other end. Now, my beautiful son is so his own person, in spite of the hard times, or is it because of them? When he was in his early twenties and working at real jobs, his money just vanished. He would buy $300 pairs of jeans or shoes, a $75 T-shirt, after shave – living a champagne lifestyle on a beer salary. We had many arguments about money. I gave him money and helped him out, perhaps when I shouldn’t have – in fact many times I think I should have let him flounder but it was just not in me as a mother to watch my son flounder. See, that’s when a father is needed, some hard arse stuff!

Off Jay goes to Oz, he knows he needs to get away to grow and find himself. While I was available it was easy for him to fall back on me. Now, on his own in Australia he was living his own life. He learned who he was and has defined himself. It all comes back to that phone call last night that made my heart swell up so big. Last night he said he realized money was not what he wanted in life. What he wanted was to make a difference in the world. It is one of the proudest moments I have had. Only a few years ago, when I was at university, I had a piece of paper stuck to my wall with:” I will make a difference!” written on it in black marker pen. I woke up every day and went to sleep every night seeing that piece of paper and believing in myself and what I was doing. I wanted to help children and make a difference. Jay saw that paper, he saw my determination, he saw my passion. The parallel belief between myself and my son tells me something. It tells me that I have done the right thing. He wants to save the world, he wants to spread peace, harmony and love. I am so proud of him and there is a sense of relief for me – kind of like my job is done here, but of course not. I have much to do – even from my bed, but not as much as Jay!

Jay will make a difference, he already has and will keep walking that walk – you deserve all things good, my son.

Do the Right Thing

do the right thing

I saw a man dragging a puppy

that didn’t want to go

And everyone else in the street didn’t want to know

“Don’t get involved!” said a nervous Mr Hay

And he crossed over the street

to walk the other way!

I saw a brother pinch his little sister

on her tiny arm

How could anyone want to do

another body harm?

“Don’t get involved!” said a spiteful Miss Melissa

She won’t play with me at school

and is meaner than her sister

I saw a man shout

and push a woman to the ground

She bowed her head and was crying

but you couldn’t hear a sound

“Don’t get involved!” said a crabby Mrs Mend

And I wondered for over a month

if that poor woman had a friend

But now I’m older and I know better

I want to pass this message on

If there’s a body in need

you must always take heed

Because nobody wants to go through it

alone

© Kait King, 2015

You know you know…..

you know you know

You already know –

You know you’ve

known for ages

But just didn’t

want to look into that ugly face

or go to that ugly place

You knew months ago

when he was angry with you

when all you did

was be excited he was home

and he turned his back

and left you there alone

You already knew

when you could

smell the hint of perfumes

that you know you

don’t wear

Those whispered

phone calls

He doesn’t want you

to hear

You already know –

you know you’ve known

for ages

but just didn’t

want to look

into that ugly lying face

or go to that ugly empty place

© Kait King, 2015

In spite of

inspiteof

I don’t believe you have nothing to say

that you don’t want to stand up

and shout

“don’t treat me that way”

I don’t believe you can keep quiet

for very much longer

the hate in you grows stronger

even though you deny it

it kills you every day

I don’t believe there is happiness in you

that you skip through every day

that your glasses are a rose-colored hue

that you are not reliant in almost every way

but that’s just not true

You drag yourself through every day

knowing that he will

punch you

humiliate you

control you

and you want to kill him

for killing you –

you try to think of another way

but nothing else will do

you have no money, no car or hope

this mean,

ugly-spirited human

says you can’t cope

in the real world

But you know that’s not true –

right?

© Kait King, 2015

You should be an actress!

You should be an actress

I didn’t want to

lay back

in the director’s

chair

I didn’t want to

take off my clothes

to help me get “up there”

I didn’t want to be

just bouncy breasts

on TV

I didn’t want my body

out there

for all to see

So I didn’t take

the money

I didn’t get

the job

not for any other reason

than I wouldn’t

suck his knob

© Kait King, 2015

The Sink Hole

I will not be labeled

As damaged or disabled

I won’t let myself think

I’ll just go down like

Water gurgling in a sink

I try to envision my life

With more purpose

Than “useless”

Sometimes this is

An exercise

Quite fruitless

I won’t slide down

That gurgling sink

And I know that’s what

A lot of people

Think

But I’ve proved them

Wrong before

Not just once

But even more

I won’t quietly go down

That gurgling sink

I have more words

To say

More words

I must ink

I’m not here

To kick up a stink

I just want to make

More people think

Before I go down

That gurgling sink

Kait King 12th July 2019

The Creation

Creation

I lie in the quiet

of the solid dark

A fractured individual

with a many fragmented heart

I don’t regret the past

but I struggle to see ahead

Life seems to race by way too fast

just to wind up dead

I try to stay well afloat

But here, I’m not the strongest swimmer

Life has me tight around the throat

and has moulded a grateful sinner

© Kait King, 2015

Does it Sting? – aka Pointless

skeletal mona lisa

Does it sting?

Can you feel

my hate

my anger

blistering at you?

Inflamed and furious

that not even the

Herculean strength of my own

sanity will tie it down

My bitterness seeps out

of my pores

leaving a trail of

achingly sad tearful

nights and aimless lonely

days

Does it sting?

Can you feel me

loathing you from afar?

My hate for you is so

giant – it has to be visible

surely you can feel this

surely you know I am hating you

betrayed by you, unforgiving

of you – surely….

What do you mean, he’s got another girlfriend?
© Kait King, 2015

Foot in mouth disease

foot in mouth

I loved university. I loved being up to my eyeballs in something I was fascinated with. The challenges and deadlines were all bonuses on top of the actual subject and I rose to greet each one. Anyway that’s by the by, so I’m in the lecture theater and the lecture is about to end. I know I’m getting a phone call very shortly so I excuse myself to go outside to wait for the call.

I get outside and there’s a kid doubled over, sitting pretty much folded over on the side bench. I wander to the bench, my phone out, texting and looking up as I walk. And I sit down on his right side. He shuffles over a little to make room. He is not moving much and my curiosity gets the better of me and I surreptitiously glance sideways at him. Yep, he is totally bent in half, but I do see his phone in his hand and he’s got his left hand side of his face plastered to his phone. Not the left hand side as in, his ear and talking, I mean like with his eye and not talking. Possibly taking a picture of his eye? Or the pupil of his eye? So without thinking for another second I pipe up with “I think you need glasses by the looks of things!” and chuckled a little, breaking the ice and everything. And this is my problem – my brain doesn’t engage with my mouth or vice versa – they work independently (against me!) so this is where I have ended up with this Foot in Mouth Disease – I’m a a frequent flyer.

Well, this kid looks up at me and one eye is covered with that cloud, the cloud that means that they can’t see much of anything out of that eye and the other one is scarred too.

He says, “It’s the only way I can see my texts – glasses won’t help…” I’m sitting there like an idiot. But I did what I usually do and chose not to ignore the elephant.

“So what happened to your eyes?” I asked.

He looked up from his phone again – well, as best as he could, and explained that he had been walking down Queen Street and it was winter. A super stormy day, and Queen Street can become like a wind tunnel on days like that. He had a jacket on that zipped up and as he grappled in the wind with it, the zip sliced across his eye, blinding him totally in his right eye and severely impinging on his sight in his left.

“I’m so sorry dude – really impressed you’re at university…I didn’t mean to be rude by the way….” I trailed off. He smiled, “It’s OK,” he says to me, ” at least you didn’t just walk away – that’s the worst. Everyone knows something’s up with my fricken vision. Lots of people don’t know what to do when they’re confronted with something unexpected…”

We were silent for a split second.

“I’m sorry this happened to you…. but I see in spite of a universal fuck-up in your life, you’re still here, still givin’ it all that!” he laughed at me and I laughed too.

“Often people so let the wrong things define who they are, or the worst things. The fact that you rise above this defines who you are.” He looked at me with a serious frown, somewhat created due to his lack of vision.

“Thank you for that, I needed to hear that right now…” he said.

I didn’t know his name but I did know much more about him than just some letters to identify him to his friends, family, fellow students and work colleagues. Not only that, but I found out even more about myself, or maybe about people. We all share commonalities – common likes, enemies, feelings, injustices etc. We all share bonds and those deeper threads of what make us who we are are far more interesting and important than your name, your clothes, your home, car, bank account…we truly are here to fill our souls and not our wallets. I take my soul with me when I go – I will leave my earthly belongings behind.

© Kait King, 2015