
Good poetry is knowing when to stop the rhyme
Whether it’s two or two hundred
and twenty-two lines
© Kait King, 2015

Good poetry is knowing when to stop the rhyme
Whether it’s two or two hundred
and twenty-two lines
© Kait King, 2015

I didn’t die
I’ve just upgraded ….
© Kait King, 2015

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

You crush me
Yes, you’re bigger than me
You’d have to be blind not to see
that you’re twice the size of me
But I’m getting tired of being pushed around
I hate the way you always bring me down
Slutting yourself all over this town
And I lie here so crushed – so deep underground
© Kait King, 2016

I can hear the cicadas
with their sliding
grinding legs
laughing kids
melting ice-creams
Clothes freshly dried
on a line
neatly pegged
That sun shine
warm tar
summer rain smell
That open-roofed car
chasing oceanic swells
Those exotic looking palms
lining Rodeo-type roads
giggling girls
in bikinis and curls
with their Summer Sunbodies
on show
© Kait King, 2015

I have a notion
that your emotion
is not just a session
of dark depression
but a mark on your heart
like a bite from a shark
missing pieces never found
and this is why you’ve gone to ground
I can guess
you don’t see this as a test
but an evil calculation
to distract you from your destination
A calculated move
to jig you outta your groove
But the world is not against you
just try on the other shoe
it’s not that hard to do
and if you walk a decent mile
you might cry but you might smile
ain’t it worth it in the end
if you find you’re your best friend
So don’t knock yourself so hard
you’re not stupid or a retard
We are all given different gifts
And as we live our outlook shifts
from continental rifts
to continental drifts
we figure it’s not just about ourselves
that there are no Christmas elves
and that you need to really care
for everything
if you want to get along here
© Kait King, 2015

Howick 2013
When I sing
I feel this thing
all of my body cells
join
the vibration
When my voice
comes out
and I sing of things
I care about
I feel pure elation
When my body
can’t hep but
move
As I sway and sing
the groove
This here,
this is my perfect situation
© Kait King, 2016
My first reading -Please let me know what you think 🙂 Thanks!