Jealousy
Please leave me
Let me walk free
from your grasp
Honesty
Please fill me
Set my words free
with that trust
Stupidity
Please abandon me
Let me hear twice but speak
with one voice
Integrity
Please empower me
Take over my mind and body
to make the right choice
©Kait King 2017
Poetry
Avoidance = Safe
I’ve been loved
by someone
When I wanted
to be free
And I’ve loved someone
desperately
When clearly
they didn’t
love me
I couldn’t find
a balance
I felt all men
would just hurt me
I made a choice
very purposefully
And I withdrew
from family, friends, and society
Alone
I finally could see clearly
the common denominator
in my failed relationships
was me
© Kait King, 2016
Feeling like the Titanic
She’s listing
dangerously –
hair unwashed
no make-up on,
even the Captain
abandoned her
uninteresting,
over-weight and
needy
Stuck in the
iceberg
solid
icy
cold
unwanted connection –
The dark will soon
be upon the wreck
alone
lonely
lost
In the dark
© Kait King, 2016
Gently
Slightly
gently
tumble on
down
fall into
my arms
you’ll not
be undone
Kait King 2015
Mod-Rock-Vintage-Glam

Say what?
Edgy, I get
but perhaps it’s time
to give a name to this
retro-mismatched
misunderstood era
of a better time
clung to with the echo’s
of laughing kids on bicycles
a dog barks and sprinklers spit
on the thirsty, but well-kept lawn –
you know the drill
Now we watch TV programs of that
magical but oh so dangerous era –
as never before or after the 70’s
has there been a true A-typical
serial killer – at least that we know of
Corruption and destruction
non-existent moon-landings
And milk that lasted outside for weeks
We thought we were moving forward
But there were glass-ceilings and
“no choice” let alone the freedom of speech
The Vietnam war left more bodies
falling over time, or walking like the dead –
than the count of the actual battle
Hate was not something of the past
activists and advocates battled for what’s right
and still there are the odd crosses found
burning in the night
© Kait King, 2015
It’ll pass
Temporarily insane
playing your little game
partly furnished
inside my head
only not working
if I should be dead
Temporarily out of order
please excuse the mess
you’ve caught me on an off day
How can I be my best?
© Kait King, 2015
I just want it to end
So I’m sent back and forth
and around again
to specialists and surgeons
who say it’s in my brain
the wiring’s fucked
Is what they say
because a butcher unfortunately
hacked away
at your hope
your dreams
your aspirations
your purpose
you
Forgiveness and acceptance
words to deal with
spilling your guts makes you better
I think that’s just a myth
to stop me
hold me
trap me in belief
I just want it to end
© Kait King, 2015
What I want to believe Real Women want
I’m quite happy being a Woman
I don’t want to be a Man
I don’t want to scratch my nuts
or take out the trash can
I don’t understand the confusion
about the Man and Woman sequel
Of course we are very Different
Different, but still very Equal
I am proud to be the Carer
The Fantastical Giver of Life
the gentle softness of
a safe place to fall
When you return from
a hard days’ fight
My Man, the strong Protector
The Bringer of that Life
who will be Honoured to care for me Truly
and with Pride
would call me his Wife
© Kait King, 2015
Lest Someone Forgets
Why won’t you sing our song
We sing yours over here
Why don’t you whisper
our fallen’s names
Or don’t you really care
If blood alone had been spilt
Could you tell that blood apart
Or perhaps without the body
You could tell the difference
in their hearts
Why won’t you sing our Kiwi song
They fought as brothers in arms
They all fell in the same stinking hell
They deserve a name whispered
in the calm
For the fallen ANZAC soldiers of New Zealand, who’s song (national anthem) is not sung in Australia. We recognise and sing the Australian anthem for all of them when we celebrate ANZAC day over here. They were “brothers in arms” after all. C’mon Australia – do the right thing.
© Kait King, 2015
Anyway, Any way

I so wish
I could have
been a better mum
But he still loves me
anyway
I see the photo
next to me
Colors blue and grey
you and I
Not much to spend
but time
and he still loves me
anyway
I feel I may have
failed you in
too many ways
to count
In spite of that
you are a beautiful
soul
and you still love me,
anyway
Kait King 16/7/2018
Just Because….
Just because he’s fat
you can’t leave him out
like that
And even if it’s so
inside he’s like you,
y’know
And even when we’re angry
and think we are not wrong
it’s best to love and forgive
and learn to get along
Just because she’s different
and cannot see by choice
take a moment to listen
to her gifted singing voice
Because everyone’s born perfect
from different points of view
and the world would really be
quite boring
if they were all like me
and you
© Kait King, 2016
Lyrics to Pretty Girl (draft)
Pretty Girl
With a trail of heartbreak
Pretty Girl
Chances they all take
Pretty Girl
If not for their own sakes
what will it really take
Pretty Girl
Now
Lonely Girl
Why’d you give it all?
Lonely Girl
Was it far to fall?
Lonely Girl
Leaving hearts so small
If you have a heart at all
Oh Pretty Lonely Girl
© Kait King, 2015
Violent Love
Wild animal
– resonate in me
Violent Love
Tender Brutality
Snake, lion,
tiger or sheep
– Passionate,
almost Violent Love,
to: shy,
submissive,
meek
Only 50 shades of grey?
That is what I
want to say
– That Hollywood crap
you can keep…
© Kait King, 2017
If I could…
If I could cut out your
heart
This is how it would
feel
And the music will tell
you
How come it’s so
real
If I could cry with your
eyes
This is how it would
feel
And the words that I
sing
Is how come it’s so
real
© Kait King, 2015
Glazed and confused
They’re staring at me
those doughnut holes
the sprinkles and
that fucking maple syrup glaze
Those different flavoured
cream-filled ones
screaming out my name
They ooze confidence
knowing my desire
my taste buds inflamed
those gooey pink shades
that sticky chocolate shine
that fucking maple syrup glaze
I can’t make up my mind
© Kait King, 2015
Creepy Creep Creeping
She didn’t want to know,
y’know
She didn’t want
to see
Her man had been
behind her back
creepy
creep
creeping
Another in denial,
sat
She really couldn’t
believe
He really couldn’t
have done that
creepy
creep
creeping
Your heart
is not safe
it says
your children
are in danger
the man you thought
was ‘dad’ material
turns out to be
that stranger…
creepy
creep
creeping
© Kait King, 2016
Choose to Lose

Oh what to do
when someone
cheats on you
Oh what to say
that even though –
you want them to stay
And how do you choose
how you want to lose –
you know he knows
he’s won –
and he’s already started
and nowhere
near
done
© Kait King, 2016
Summer Bright

See-through summer
lemon breeze
opening flowers
warming seas
You beckon to me
Sun-bright memories
in hazy days
berry-brown bodies
of the inner child plays
You beckon to me
Sunlight filters
through fruit laden branches
wishes and dreams
hopes and second chances
You beckon to me
© Kait King, 2015
What’s wrong with you

Mary Bell
what the hell
at ten
was inside your head?
To choke a
little boy of 3
until he’s stone
cold dead
And then to carve
your name in him
the initials MB
in his chest
Did you want everyone
to know
that this work
was your best?
I know your mother
was a prostitute
and she did terrible
things to you
And is she the one
responsible
for making you
into you?
Others have
an even sadder tale
and are left with
deep scars too
but others haven’t
needed to kill
or do the things
you do.
© Kait King, 2015
Fandamily
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 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
Writer’s Blogk: Observation 7
7. Feeling guilty about not writing, will not help you write any better or quicker or make up for lost writing time…. let it go and write on
that’s crap….you let her change you like that…
It doesn’t matter
if you wrote it
in a letter
caught a plane to
come and get her
Think you really
could do better
Sorry for the day, man,
that you met her
she took your money
coz you let her
now that time is just
a blur together
and you look like
you’ve been through
the shredder
© Kait King, 2015
My friend

Peace and love
my friend,
love and light –
the sparking of
two energies
will bring light
into the night
© Kait King, 2016
Look at me…
Look at me
waffling on
happy as a bee
Look at me
skipping through life
thinking I’m free
Look at me
that wistful child
once so wild
and now independent
and grown
Look at me
with 3 under 3
and a house I don’t
even own
Look at me
shared weekends
if we’re lucky
And I know you’ve been
sucking
someone else’s cherry
lip gloss
Look at me
bitter days
long nights
spent watching crap TV
Never to be
free –
the very unhappy
divorcee
© Kait King, 2015
Blood Bright

Blood bright
and sharp
as a knife
Twisted as
a hemp rope
Gettin’ into
my life
Deep, dark
whisper
coarse as a
saw
Asking me
to write evil
out
more, more….
more
© Kait King, 2015
Foot in mouth disease

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
Are You OK?
No, I’m not OK
she said
And I didn’t know
what to do
But all she really needed
was someone to
talk to
Not everything is
fixable
or even wants to
be fixed, so
we learn to live with
special things
sometimes things we would
never show
some things are just too ugly
to let anybody know
© Kait King, 2016
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
It doesn’t really matter
So very close to me
you look
on my inside
and I think it doesn’t matter
So very close to me
you breathe
on my outside
and I think it doesn’t matter
Then I’m alone
pictures fall in my head
I shut my eyes so tight
and lie lost in my bed
wishing you were here
so very close to me
and I know…
it really doesn’t matter
any more
© Kait King, 2015
Just take more drugs…
Pain eats you up
it gnaws on my
already
frazzled nerves
Pain is a game
I play against
my self,
my will,
my mind
Pain wears me down
it sucks away at my
strength,
my soul,
my life
© Kait King, 2015
Boy
I watch you grow in
the sunshine of my love
with raindrops of pure joy
you fall around me
endlessly
In the deepest, darkest shadows
You shine your brightest light
every day
every night
My baby boy
you turn my life around
Baby boy
you turn my life upside down
As the seconds with you turn into years
your fearless journey with
true innocence moves away
suddenly you’re a schoolboy
with a schoolbag
who won’t hold my hand anyway
My baby boy
you turn my life around
Beautiful boy
you turn life upside down
Strong enough to climb
the tallest tree
your big brown eyes smile down
your laughter falling like autumn
leaves
fall to cover me
© Kait King, 2015
one two….

2 sugars
1 coffee
stirring up your day
2 people
1 future
they will be ok
1 wish
2 dreams
watch it float away
1 hope
2 worlds
1 lifetime to play
© Kait King, 2015
Treading Water
Speeding up
Slowing down
Maybe just going
Round and round
© Kait King, 2015
Nowhere

I’m screaming
your name
and it just drops
into
nowhere
© Kait King, 2015
Lyrics to Does me good in my Soul
CH: I know what I have
and I know what I want
What I can’t figure out
is what it is that I don’t
Verse 1: I don’t have to take
their crap
and all that yakkity-yak
that does me no good
in my Soul
Verse 2: I’ve walked down
that track
And I have always
looked back
but that does me no good
in my Soul
Verse 3: ‘Cause I’ve cried
nearly every day
And that’s not just something
I’d say
’cause it does me no good
in my Soul
Verse 4: But then I look
at you
And I know a Love
so true
and that does the World of Good
in my Soul
© Kait King, 2016
Is it
So do you think it may annoy you
should I love you too much
That time would trap you
in a heartbeat
If I won’t give you up
Is it crazy to think
that you will only touch
my skin
stroke my hair
and let me in
Will it be overwhelming if I say
I love you every day
leave notes in your lunchbox
and always want you to stay
the night
the week
forever
Is it rude of me to want all of you
not a share, a percentage or a piece
but the everything and nothingness
of you
the very most
and
the very least
© Kait King, 2015
When
“When you’re driven – you get places.”
© Kait King, 2015
Your Old Sweaty Shirt
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
I buried you, I hope you don’t mind
What do you mean?
You don’t get it?
I’ve talked the hind leg
off a donkey
telling you why it is
what it is
and no
I don’t regret it
How can you say that?
How would you know?
I get pissed that
I’m not good enough
I won’t put my
assets on show
I watch you
watching yourself
under the radar
so low
Hiding who you
really are
and now I wish
I didn’t know
When did you do that?
Is it like someone I know?
There is no name, no face
No one to show
And I need a body
to bury
So I can let you go
© Kait King, 2015


