When I Write

when i write

When I write

every word is like

a finely crafted feather

particles of a winged voice

To uplift imagination

poor soothe upon torment

A flight path

mind’s destination to dream

picture perfect characters

who they are

where they belong

where you fit in

Nestled tight

keep out cold

turn against the winds of ice

water falling crashing calling

the feather nestled tight

let your imagination take flight

with these words I write

© Kait King, 2015

I’m no secret

Im no secret

I’m no secret

I’m loud and clear

I love you babe

put away your fear

I won’t leave

I won’t bow out

I promise I’m good for it

I’ll leave you no doubt

And all I ask in simple return

is the love from your heart

that I know I have earned

© Kait King, 2015

His broken heart is hid

his broken heart is hid

Life suspended in a web-like hammock

the coffee smell not as nostril-curling as in the past

a homeless man stumbles along wet walks

dragging his sorry arse along the splinter lit street

a reflection a sad life in a hard city,

his city a place where he lost his wife and his job,

a home, his family

where he nearly took his own

when things were darker than ebony

and he had to walk his walk alone

A bunch of aggro school kids

too brash and way too loud

disrespect his foul figure on the skids

he had no room to be proud

He seeks a place that’s dry

it won’t be warm,

he knows a place where he can cry

and his aching tears won’t show

© Kait King, 2015

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

Junkie Corner and Gangster Avenue

gangster ave

Who’s hanging where

and why are they hanging here?

Are they sucking up the light?

Or just too noisy in the night?

Have the neighbors had enough

Are the gangs a tad too tough?

Do they scare you with their masks

and their everyday drug tasks?

Standing on a corner street

a clusterfuck of hopeless

listening to some grind beat

you just need to smoke, pop, toke this

there is no other option

but for crap minimum wage

Nothing there that stops them

And lucky to reach old age

© Kait King, 2015

Before you go out tonight…just sayin’

car smash

The crackling laughter

in a clunking room

with a crashing band

on their début

Toppling patrons

a snarling fight

scantily dressed ladies

goose-bump in the night

Security stands

dark at the door

free thinking radicals

spiral on the dance floor

Falling about

in a giggly drove

Time is up –

time to hit the road

A taxi is called

some resist and complain

they take their car keys

never to be seen again

© Kait King, 2015

Last thought in a Playground

playground thought

She’s beating the

crap out of me

I want to be

retaliatory

But I can’t find a gap

to even try

and hit back

She kicks me in

my side

Everyone there wants to see

me cry

I can hear their

jeering calls

of magnified echoes

charging through halls

This strange metamorphosis

in sound

is my ticket off

the gravelly ground

And I can see myself

lying there

The group of bystanders

shout and cheer

My body, I see

crumpled like

a sack

And I never even got a chance

to throw a punch back

© Kait King, 2015

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

Summer in my Heart

summer in my heart

The grass squeaks

beneath my feets

Cold steals well into

my bones

Chilly cows in

frosty fields

complain in

mooing moans

The sun is

shining watery bright

glistening drips from

my watery nose

In the shade

of the rock garden

lies a frosty

useless hose

The dogs’ little

paws

hardly leave

a mark

It’s beautiful but

not my favourite time

I have Summer

in my heart

© 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

I Dance Emotions

dance with emotions

I breathe feelings

I dance emotions

and coddle dreams

I rap time

if it’s mine

and wander the roads

of forever

I trickle into hearts

sometimes I’m poured

sometimes it’s voracious

sometimes

bored

The mystical flow

of the words that glow

in the firelight

faces wait

breath held in

anticipation

waiting on

the words of love

so soft

so real

so true

I feel them

Can you feel them too?

© Kait King, 2015