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

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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

Trust me

Trust me

Meet me in the middle

and I’ll take you to the end

Tell me that you trust me

and I’ll let you be my friend

Promise me the world

and it’ll fall at your feet

Run the faster race

’cause it’s me you have to beat

Don’t believe in rumours

and they won’t control your life

Believe in what you want to be

and step into that light

© Kait King, 2015

I can wait some more

So now, sick of being shoved from pillar to post and being basically bullied into corners, we have decided to go legal….My sister has been an incredible force. There is no way in heaven or earth I would have been able to do all the paper work and appointments on my own – or at all actually. She took all of that worry and confusion away from me.

We were fighting for me to have the correct amount of a serious medication called Pregabalin, AKA Lyrica – and I need the most you can take and a little Morphine thrown in here and there, just to keep those pain centres quiet. And I’m like “Hell yeah! Shut those fuckers down!” Hoping for a miracle and getting as close to that as I could with a lot of the “noise” pain being dampened. I still have severe pain in my back/hip/sciatica and the odd chest pain that incapacitates me too, but certainly not the constant stabs all over the left hand side of my body that was exhausting. And my right eye socket was so incredibly painful I couldn’t open my eye and I wanted to literally rip it out, or smash my head in. I used to pinch the skin next to the internal pain in my chest where the nerve damage is and also dig my thumb deep in to my eye socket to at least change the pain. I know I can’t be free of it at this stage, but at least not have the same gnawing hits. Anyway, I digress…so we go to see this lawyer and he’s fantastic. He’s onto it, he knows what needs to happen, what we need to get or locate etc. This is great as we needed this guidance and the clout that the lawyer gave us. The hardest part – well, there were two to be perfectly honest. The first hard part was actually going to talk to this lawyer – with such a complicated case there is so much information that needs to be assessed. And this is the firm to be doing this, but I was so fragile BeFoRe I left the bloody house! I felt overwhelmed, I cried and had to put my mascara back on – it didn’t help. I think I was in disbelief that after all these years and after all of our struggle on our own, someone was going to listen and possibly help.

Anyway, the second part is this; while you are the client/patient/victim/however you wish to see yourself, people get so involved in the complications of my case that they talk as if I am no longer present.My sister and the lawyer started chatting, I’m on so much medication and in so much pain I lay on his couch with a glass of water as my meds give me major cotton-mouth. So the hardest part of all of this (and it sounds sooooo not hard), but was listening to my sister and the lawyer “discuss” my case which made me feel like I wasn’t even there – and to be perfectly honest, I’m not when I’m on such medication.
But it also didn’t change the fact that I had to listen to how permanent my situation is, that there is nothing anyone can do and it’s just a matter of medicating her, sorting out what help I need and the physio required to “rehabilitate” me – world’s largest joke if that is supposed to be happening right now…because all I have felt is re-victimised, unworthy of help, forgotten and just a number. It’s not ok, the 2 medical misadventures I’ve had, it’s not ok to be abandoned by your so-called insurance company, it’s not ok when someone botches something, that they never have to own up – ever. The guy who ripped my nerves in my chest in 1989 is now the “golden boy” of thoracic surgery….how the hell did that happen? And I often wonder to myself if he would remember me – more than likely not. I daydream about getting an apology – a genuine “so sorry I fucked up” apology. I have waited since 1989 – I can wait some more….

Loss/values

People experience loss in very different ways. People experience what they value differently too. Depending on what you are taught to value, is how you will experience that loss. If, when growing up, you are taught the difference between giving, taking and sharing we form a basis for understanding value. If you are taught to value money and possessions, that these things make you the person you are, things define you. What if you go bankrupt and lose everything – will you commit suicide? Money and success has represented you and your life.

But if money was not the valued commodity and family was – if you lost everything materialistic, wouldn’t your family or friends have the most important value to you, not your image of success? Family and friends are there when nothing and nobody else is…

How do you define yourself? What is really important to you? How do you represent yourself in the world?

Just food for thought….

Keyhole Kid

keyhole kid

She wasn’t afraid

but she was alone

the house was empty

nobody home

She didn’t get angry

she didn’t have to cry

she didn’t even question

that she’s alone at 5 and why

It’s hard to find a window

that opens kind of wide

even for a little person

to end up safe inside

So she huddles on the step

trying to keep warm

wishing, hoping someone comes

before all curtains are drawn

Now it starts to quietly rain

and it’s getting rather dark

So she starts to walk down the road

towards Alberta Park

We never knew what happened

to that little girl alone

I just know she’d still be here

if someone had been home…

© Kait King, 2015

Is a child molester worse than a child killer?

is a child molester worse

I just want to clarify that without a doubt – no form of abuse or harm, whatsoever to any living thing, is alright by me. I spend most of my waking moments and my work towards protecting our kids and vulnerable populations like animals, the elderly and handicapped as well. That was my whole focus for completing my Criminology degree – to be an advocate and a voice for those who cannot speak for themselves. With my psyche background, curiosity and life experiences I am led to many thoughts. Some I didn’t even know I would contemplate before I started my journey into crime and the criminal mind (as it were :)) I myself, have an analytical mind and like to have answers to things until there are no more questions left to wonder! And so with this in mind, I wonder if a child molester/abuser is worse than a child killer? I think to myself at least the child is dead at the hands of the killer and not turned into the living dead by the pedophiles in the world? My beliefs allow me to believe that the spirit of the murdered child will get a chance to return to the world if that is what existence means, but like I say – the child left alive is trapped in a living hell of self-doubt and self-flagellation/torture and that’s after the abuse has ceased. Sexual molestation is usually a prolonged relationship – an ongoing grooming and manipulation in order to keep the secret and obtain what the predator wants. Sometimes this goes on for years and is often times familial, or someone known to the victim, creating more guilt and a necessity for secrecy due to shame and embarrassment. So which is worse? Either way the victim and their family suffers and never would or should anyone have to make a choice between the two, but I am curious as to others’ understanding of the actual offender. And I also believe that if we discuss things like this more, we will gain a greater understanding of the predator and how we keep our children safe… So back to my question whether the child molester is worse than the child killer? Or are they just as bad as each other because whichever way you cut it, the life of the victim is taken away – physically or life as they should know it – but gone for good so that nothing is ever the same.

My Dancing Feat

My dancing feat

There were just

too many

in this crazy crowd

Crushing in on

me

So I’m unable to

shout out loud

It was just

way too

noisy

in that clamouring

sweaty swarm

Body smells too

pungent

The air I breathe in

is warm

The darkness

has a dampness,

a claustrophobic clamp

The lighting bulbous

and hypnotic –

like a giant lava lamp

A pulse

united in

a passionate beat

And ignoring all

the warning signs,

I’m led by my dancing feet

© Kait King, 2016

After the Fact

After the Fact

He rolled her up in the carpet

He tied her up real tight

He threw her into the trunk of his car

And screeched out into the night

He knows he must not draw attention

He must slow down his breath and calm

He drove around for hours

With her body in the back of his car

Delusional or clear of mind

It really didn’t matter

He was clear enough to clean up the mess

And removed all her blood he splattered

He contemplated water

He thought about the dump

He thought about a mountain top

He could make it look like she jumped

As dawn approached, a screaming light

His stomach started to rumble

So he drove her through the drive thru

And didn’t miss a beat or fumble

A steady hand held out dollar bills

But his eyes he kept downcast

Not a thought spared for his wife in the trunk

The love that didn’t last

© Kait King, 2015

Suicide – is it really a free ticket out?

Suicide

With a delicate stillness

and a quiet noise

with porcelain perfection

and perfect China poise

the body is supine

lying dead on the floor

supine in exsanguination

a choice to become Death’s whore

Ruby red your favourite colour

you wear it very well

although I won’t see you out much

a story we will tell

Did you get off scot-free?

Did you truly escape?

Or will you have to pay your dues

and return to this landscape…

© Kait King, 2015

I am a Winner

iamawinner

Everyone is so obsessed with winning at everything – work, sports, relationships – absolutely everything. I wonder if those people who are so focused on winning every argument, every game, every decision – have ever thought that they can let it go – like everybody’s a winner in the biggest race of all as far as I’m concerned. If you’ve been born then you have won the biggest race of all! You are a winner – the biggest winner out of thousands of other sperm that were in a race for life – I am a winner – we won! Now let’s just succeed at being our own very best here instead of obsessing about being better than someone else’s best…

When you let me in

beautiful-immortal-vampires-eternal-lovers

When we are

touching skin

when you have

let me in

With a dream-like

essence

I feel your

presence

the heat from

your skin

when you let me in

I know there

are no lies

I can see it

in your blue eyes

I can feel it

from your mouth

I can hear it in

your blazing skin

when you let me in

the goose bumps on

your flesh

and our kiss

can only express

we are so lost

it must be a sin

but only when

you let me in

© Kait King, 2015

Another Opportunity

opportunity

Yes love,

that’s exactly

what you do

Dust yourself off

once you’ve

pulled yourself up

and sing

dance

stand tall

Honey if you

think about it

it’s not the first time

and be sure

it will not be the last

You know the rights

from the wrongs

Don’t ever let them change

your song

With a Nelson Mandelian

grace

and a dignity dug from the deep

You will triumph

and in a cloud of

dust, like a rolling

Pig Pen

You flagrantly walk

your walk into

another opportunity

© Kait King, 2016