Gasping for Air

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…

Sexy Siren

Sexy Siren

Sexy Siren

in

satin red

Your luxurious folds

fall over my head

Touching me

with the sagaciousness of a

man’s hand you rest

on my hips

The swing and

the sway

move like gloss covered lips

as I turn to walk away

A hand grabs me and

pulls me to bed

© Kait King, 2016

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

A Fair Ultimatum

ULTIMATUM letting-go

If you can allow yourself

to love me baby

I’ll hold you, rock you,

Love you through every night

If you’re not scared to

show me baby

I’ll do my very best to make it

all right

But I feel you haven’t

let go baby

And it’s not really all

about me

You have to let your feelings

show baby

You have to love me or let me

be free

© Kait King, 2015

I wish I could tell her

I wish I could tell her

While she’s trying harder

working it out

all her problems, hangups, pity and

self-doubt

And she tries too hard to achieve

because she’s lonely, angry,

she’s had no love to eat

And as far as this woman knows

it’s like a picture, no – a painting

or a movie, too slow

As far as this woman knows

it’s like fighting the fight

but not a fight that you chose

So she’s crying alone

no sleep at night

I wish I could find her

and tell her –

it will all be all right

© Kait King, 2015

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

It’s Just Life

it's just life

I am lying on my bed

it’s too hot

and the TV’s too loud

Yet the noisiest thing

is you in my

head

I can hear the washing machine

beeping and beeping endlessly

WTF is wrong with those things?!

I know I should

eat something but

I truly can’t be

bothered

it’s just food

it’s just money

it’s just love

it’s just life…

© Kait King, 2016

Lucky

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

The Hysteraunt

the Hystaurant 1

There’s anarchy

in the galley

In the kitchen

there’s uproar

The patrons have

ordered something but

there isn’t any more

The tantrumic Chefs

wave teatowels in despair

throw their knives around

and their hands in the air

The one who’s ordered

the supplies

takes a New York stripping down

The Head Chef shouts and

screams a little

wearing his foreign frown

Wildly gesturing – his anger

festering and then

things seem to calm down

Kait King 2015

She is nothing like me

Nothing like me

Gingerly I type the words, wondering if I may be the only person who thinks like this. god’s daughter is turning out to be more appalling than horrific, more repulsive than disgusting. I can feel her like black tar in my mind. She calls me to write her out – to layer her like a black wedding cake, all the details – the spiders, the webs, the cockroaches, the mould and dusty aura of her mind. The corners of her life are all in shadow, a shadow I have to be brave enough to step into and feel the darkness that is god’s daughter. She wants to be created but she doesn’t want me – I am nothing to her, just like everyone else.

And she is nothing like me…