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

And there he was…

Jay n me on beach newcastle june2016 2

It hadn’t been a long time – only a matter of months, you could count them in days if you had to. But it felt like centuries. I missed my boy – he was loud and large in my little cottage, but now everything seems too large, too empty and way too quiet!

So landing in Sydney I couldn’t wait to see him and get a giant bear hug – his hugs are the only ones that are like that for me. It’s something very definable, tangible. Anyone else could give me a giant hug but they will never measure up to my son’s loving arms. I have never been a “clasp-hugger”, y’know, brief – per-functionary. There is no point in displaying affection if you don’t mean it. So yes, maybe he has only known how to hug like that – I love that about him. A helluva lot can be said in a hug. And hugging my son at the airport for the first time in ages was like a relief almost…a sigh of thank you Universe – he really is all good! He looked and felt healthy, his hair had grown even longer and his smile beamed across the crowd of anxious collectors. He stood out as if he was the only one in colour and everyone else was black and white.

I know I maybe could be describing everything else – and I’m sure it will come out, but my holiday was really about filling up my soul as a Mum. Spending time with that beautiful little spirit I had nursed, guided and shoved into this lovely young man in front of me, that I am so proud to call My Son.

Pre-Occupancy

Pre-Occupancy

So nobody’s home

Just cardboard cut-outs

posed in my brain

Memories I can’t let go

Pre-Occupancy

A way to survive

Somehow to numb

the pain

Somehow to stay

the child

Pre-Occupancy

Merely a distraction

Something to hide

any connection

Anything to avoid

taking action

Pre-Occupancy

© Kait King, 2017

Your Old Sweaty Shirt

sweaty tshirt

That’s the last thing you wore

that held your warm body close

It was the last thing before

your heart and pressure slowed

A cloth got to finally hold you

something I never got to do

People say that it was better that way

But I don’t know if that’s quite true

I hold your once sweaty t-shirt

drenched now with my own tears

and try to inhale what’s left of you

As it fades from all the years

© Kait King, 2015

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 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

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