The Most Important Thing

THe most important thing racoon

She married him

when she was 23

and he was 37

She thought she’d met

Prince Charming

and he thought he’d gone

to Heaven

It didn’t take long tho’

for him to change

his song

And feel like he

was imprisoned

It happened so fast,

turned life on its arse –

she fell undeniably

and beautifully pregnant

She had her baby alone

while he drank and whored

in their home

No, it hadn’t been long

he was just bored

and it was just wrong

He had already been here

twice in his life

He had other children

and more than one wife

So with dignity

and as a lady

she took nothing

with her

just her baby

She didn’t want half

of the furniture

or a share of

the bling

She knew

she had kept

the most important thing

© Kait King, 2015

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

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

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

Your Old Sweaty Shirt

sweaty tshirt

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

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

rastas

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

Is it

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

Cataclysmically Incorrect

Cataclysmically incorrectjpg

If I win

I will have won this

fair and square

If I lose

I will have lost this

and won’t have to care

about you

or your new girlfriend

If I’m wrong

I will be cataclysmically incorrect

I will owe on every bet

and beg you to forget her

and her endless bank account

legs and youth

If you could just be brave

and tell the truth

But I see you squirming

awkward in your plush car seat

I can see the worm –

it’s turning

Now it’s with me

you cheat…

© Kait King, 2015

I buried you, I hope you don’t mind

I buried you

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

Kidnapped

kidnapped

You’re bundled

into a car

you don’t know

where you are

You can hear the

indicator blinking

And it triggers your

panicky thinking

You try to count wildly

at something

Knowing ultimately

that this isn’t helping

trying to remember

the twist and bends

Wondering how on Earth

will this all end

© Kait King, 2015

Too much Too late Too soon

too soon,late

When it seems to me

that this is the end

you just keep coming back

to me, my friend

I say that word with a smirk

on my face

I can’t just be friends

and your shit’s at my place

you’ll look at me with

your shiny eyes

pull my heartstrings

like a baby’s cries

And it won’t matter

‘cos it’s all lies

Too much Too late Too soon

© Kait King, 2015