Last thought in a Playground

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

Rise Above

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

The Rut

My laugh is empty –
it’s lost it’s guts
I feel myself falling
into one of those ruts
That long
dark hole
I think I’ll never come back from
That “odd-one-out” feeling
that I really don’t belong

© Kait King, 2016

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

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

Oh Hello Winter!!….mother-f***er…mumble…grumble…

The wind makes my little cottage shudder and shake, the rain pelts relentlessly on the roof. I can hear the rumblings of thunder as things thrash around on the outside. The palms’ fronds that had died during the summer have now been flung down to earth ungraciously by the howling wind. Not a bird in sight of course, they are smarter than us. I don’t know whether to be slightly afraid or think “fuck it” what can happen? But suddenly I feel like Dorothy. Even though I’ve turned up my TV, the rain is really loud and I can hear the wind still, and the thunder…It sounds like a train coming. I remember someone telling me that earthquakes sound like a train or huge truck bearing down on you. I wondered if the rain was actually hail – it sounded so hard but it just didn’t seem cold enough. I’m snuggling down – battening down those hatches. I think about the poor cows taking a battering in the storm. Nature is so harsh – we have summer and everybody’s happy and then Wham! So this is winter – we will blow the crap outta you, sting your bovine crowd and make things generally miserable.
Oh Hello Winter!!…. mother-fucker….mumble grumble…

For the Love of Rastus – R.I.P 20th May 2016

A bright orange glow
you sit in the hedgerow
thinking you are hidden
and will get to catch the forbidden
but little do you know
your gingerness does show
even though you’re so still sitting
your camouflage seems to be what’s missing
You see the birds and can contain the frolics
but I’m sorry Rastas –
You stand out like dog’s bollocks!
You must wonder how come you don’t catch a bird
they must look at you and think you’re absurd
You’ll never catch them in your bright orange coat
Or feel their silky feathers in the back of your throat
I’ve seen the odd field mouse stiff on the bricks
but I just know, that’s not how you want your kicks
A crispy crunchy sparrow or a larger tasty minor
or perhaps a tender inside bird, something a little finer…
© Kait King, 2015

Wildest Wind

A Wild Wind blows amiss
the plants and trees –
not a gentle kiss
Like a Louis
the Fourteenth dance
All the stately
tree branches prance,
Individual as the players
of many orchestrated layers
They fling themselves
around
Ancient roots hold tightly
in the ground
as the Wildest Wind
does its very best
to keep the tree branches
from any rest

© Kait King, 2016

Sometimes a word

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

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

Look at me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lyrics to Pretty Girl

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

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

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