Society is Crumbling

Crumbling society

If we don’t talk about it

and share it

We’ll never be aware

of it

Don’t just say something

think nothing

Do it –

It can be humbling

If we don’t change

what’s going on

learn to sing

some other song

things just stay very wrong

Society is crumbling

© Kait King, 2015

All the ink

all the ink

There is no other way to write

the truth spills from the soul

an eager hand and frenzied mind

I scribble out my fill

The scratching on the paper

the lead shines the ink glows

what I will write next

I don’t even know

but the truth is how it is easy

to tell what must be said

and there is an urgency in this

as one day we are dead

My fingers ache at times

as I just can’t seem to stop this flow

of words into lines a cadence reached –a drop

The wonder in me wonders

I speak it loud and often think

If I keep on writing like this

Will there be enough ink?

© Kait King, 2015

Compare and Despair

Compare and despair

It’s your speciality

how you play with me

with mind in motion

and bodies in ecstasy

Charged

Divine

your laugh trapped in time

Secretly you practice

your lines

A mirror glance

poison flows

those eyes watch with compare

assessing what you haven’t got

collapsing in despair

© Kait King, 2015

A Treasured Life

Me n my Dad

My Dad and Me

It was so sad

to watch you fade

your mind

as sharp as a knife

It was so hard

to say goodbye

To such a treasured life

It made me smile

to think on you a while

and on how you loved

your wife

Your children given

all you had

you gave

a treasured life

It seems that you

are still here

although you can’t

be seen

I often talk to you

And not just

in my dreams

I hope I told you

I loved you enough

I hope you know

how much I cared

And I know

one day,

I’ll see you again

Somewhere over there…

© Kait King, 2015

The 3 Little Piggies and other schizzle

thank you 1

Thanks to all of my followers, fans, friends and family 🙂 I really appreciate all of your follows, comments, advice and shares. I hope you enjoy my blog and my recent thriller killer novel on Amazon called The 3 Little Piggies and now 2 poetry books, Supine Exsanguinations and unseen poetry, My See-Through Mind also available on Amazon (please check out the Kait King on Amazon button on my site). I need reviews – the good, the bad and the ugly – please don’t be shy!:)

I’ve really enjoyed writing a blog and getting some of my stuff out there, actually it’s over 400 pieces of writing so maybe more than just some 🙂 Thank you for reading my blog, for commenting and letting me know how you feel and what you think – I love it and feel like I may have found a place in the blogosphere.

It really does get easier as I share more and realise those who read me, share these things with me as well. I have become comfortable with the WordPress tools and applications. I have been fortunate to have had only very minimal negative contact from anyone and that was a while ago, when I first started here. So again, thank you to all of you wonderful people who have made it easier for me to bare my soul! And also to all of you amazing people who are brave enough to put yourselves out there too!

Thank you – without you,
my life would be inkless

Kait King

The River

The river

With such confusion

I’m walking through a jungle

of desert

Holding

like a dam of emotion

my feelings –

when really I want to be

the river

rushing to meet and make

an ocean of you

Falling so crashingly in love

will it be a bad landing?

I draw our names

in the sand

and you carve your place

in my heart

© Kait King, 2015

No matter what

no matter what

No matter what you’re gonna say

I’ve gotta try and stay away

to keep my heart

my heart

You scream into my brain

like an uncontrolled speed train

I’ll go insane

I don’t even know my own name

No matter what I try and dream

you make me feel I am unseen

and it just stays the same

in the common denominator game

So we’re wasting all this time

ignoring all the signs

we sit in freeze frame

it just stays the same

I’m the common denominator

in the common denominator game
© Kait King, 2015

Eddie G

Eddie G

A lisp

a whispered hiss

With a gristle hustle

and a deathly shuffle

you wind your way

back home

There’s a twist

and a freakish glow

in a freak show

the decaying beat

of a drum

hiss

a whispered kiss

of a driveling fool

your hunting days

are done

this

flayed lantern skins

bones used as tools

a soup bowl

not a soup bowl but

a human skull
© Kait King, 2015

It gets murky…

Jay in suit

It’s not that I’ve forgotten you, sweet angel of mine, it’s that I just lost myself for a little while. You’ve been there so strong and true. Your arms swallow me safely and I’m grateful, so grateful for you. I couldn’t even see your pain because I couldn’t see through mine – the deep dark cloud of despair. I know it’s not forever, but at the moment, a day is a lifetime

For Jay, my nine year old son (at the time) who had to live with me being there, but not there, for nearly five years. I remember just about nothing of that period of time due to the heavy medication I was on. In the photo above he’s twenty 🙂

The Empty Room

the empty room

I remember being trapped in a lift once. At first it didn’t occur to me to panic – being the reasonably stable individual I am. I just slid down the elevator wall and squatted at the bottom, thinking of other things to while the time away. What really planted that little seed of fright was when the intercom crackled on and some disjointed voice announced that there was going to be a slight delay – yeah right! A delay as in repairs being made to cabling blah blah blah. That’s when something started chewing at the base of my brain. I could feel that icy trickle of panic beginning to seep into and numb the rational part of my brain. I imagined the lift plummeting down thirteen storeys with me in it. A compact human body, being mine of course – discovered under the dusty rubble. Or maybe in three years time, after not wanting to repair the lift they find a grinning skeleton – or perhaps just my crushed bones…

Well I started chewing my fingernails. I say that, but it’s not the actual nail bit but the little pieces you can shred off the side. Making my thumb bleed didn’t help at all and I was eternally grateful to the Universe that I wasn’t a hemophiliac. So then I started pacing out the elevator for size. It was four by four, or by six or four by eight or something. After a while the size didn’t matter – and I never thought I would say that with absolute honesty, but it didn’t. After a while my squares turned into circles and I was still gnawing at my fingers, nails inclusive now.

The appalling thought of needing to pee enveloped me and I was shamed into believing that I would just have to release my bodily functions in this confined space should it come to that.

At least two hours had passed and I was beginning to feel strange – almost like I was in a shimmery bubble. Fortunately they let me out, tearful and shaky, about twenty minutes later. Two and a half hours is a long time to be stuck in a lift – I truly thought I was going to go insane.

I’ve never been one to be claustrophobic or anything, but that lift episode really scared the begeezuz out of me. I always took the stairs after that, I just couldn’t get in a lift. Well I went for a drink with a friend of mine who had always been really terrified of heights. He said his worse fear was that he would be pushed out of a window or fall out of a building from too high up to survive. He said he had nightmares about it and it was absolutely ruining his life; work-wise and socially – let alone emotionally and the psychological toll a lack of sleep was taking on him. He said he dreamt of his arms frantically flailing to reach a hold that he could see but always he clutched at nothing. He screamed for help helplessly, as no one would ever hear him. His lover would wake him up as he had been screaming in his sleep and often hit them with his flailing limbs. Now I’d never experienced anything like that. Never had I suffered from “bad dreams” or nightmares of being trapped in a confined space at all, or trapped. When I was a kid we would hide in boxes and cupboards during games or to give someone a fright. I never felt trapped or scared then, just anticipatory. I was the frighter not the frightee and it was exciting. I could wait for ages in the crawlspace, tiny aperture or cupboard waiting for my prey to step by. Or huddle tightly and quietly in some of the darkest and smallest places, waiting to be found.

Many so-called professionals say that you should live out your fear and it will solve your problem – but I wasn’t afraid. I met my friend again and we went out for lunch. I asked him about his own phobia about heights and falling. “Well, y’know…” he said between bites, ” I know myself that this stuff is just in my head. I’ve spent a fortune on shrinks and been to a few – they all say the same thing – it’s in your mind, babe.” He stopped eating and looked at me while his tongue sought the escapee’s around his mouth and tidy teeth. “Doesn’t mean I’m cured though….” he mumbled and carried on eating.

But it did make sense. It was all in my head, my stupid brain, my over-active imagination and analytical mind. No matter how many times I told myself this though, I still could not get into a lift. Moving or otherwise I couldn’t do it. I knew I had to be brave and thought of ways to make it less traumatic. In fact it might be easier if I see a bunch of people in a lift I could squeeze in – at least I wouldn’t be all alone. There would be someone to talk to.

So today’s the day! I have decided to find a people-packed lift. I will walk through those lift doors and they will close. I will be carried up to my destination and everything will be just fine. Absolutely fine. Well…I did it! I went in the lift, sure I hyperventilated a little and blamed the air-conditioning. It’s not like I was scared or anything like that. I journeyed to the first floor but walked back down via the stairwell. The lift was busy, too packed. All you do is stand around waiting to get in and then get spewed out on one floor or another – it was a waste of time when you could just walk.

Life seems to be so much better in the summertime. Everything regains its glamour and beauty. Even people do – well some of them. Summer is a time for barbecues, hot late nights, swimming, playing and loving. We went on wild yachting weekends, champagne breakfasts and innumerable parties. We took off for an amazing holiday in Honolulu – total luxury and decadence. There were white sandy beaches, hot sun, beautiful people and drinks served in hollowed out fruits. We were there for three weeks and came back home ready to knuckle down and work. Refreshed, renewed and invigorated. No time for lifts – what lifts?

Ignorance is bliss. It’s no big deal – I’m just not interested in travelling in elevators or lifts. Some people are not interested in baking or stamp collecting either. I had heard a story about a woman who was terrified of germs and she used to hold her breath when she was in a hospital or medical clinic of some sort. She kept fainting, she was so terrified that her brain overrode the fear so that she could keep breathing and would knock her out! Now, come on – I am no way that bad. I mean that is silly, air is a necessity – I know, I’ve been trapped in an elevator.

The weird thing is, I’ve been having these really weird dreams about elevators. I was mainly travelling through space in them and I feel very very edgy, unsafe. Like some feminised Doctor Who in an elevator not a phone booth…ridiculous. But I would wake up sweating and feeling incredibly anxious, as if I was waiting for something to happen to me. No, more like expecting something to happen to me. It’s no biggie though – I can cope, it’s just a little disruptive to my sleep pattern, is all.

A couple of nights later I’m lying fast asleep and I dream I’m shooting unpredictably through space and it suddenly jolts to a halt. I wait – the doors open and it’s a hospital. I have to hold my breath or the germs will get in and smother me, my lungs, eat through my heart and brain. This is not good – panic has set in and I’m holding my breath, holding. I’m pressing the buttons in the lift – even just to close the door! I feel like I’m pressing the buttons through the wall and nothing is connecting. I’m stuck in this lift – the worst thing that could ever happen to me. I can feel my face cracking as tears and sobs are overriding the desire to not breathe in disease. Thank God I’m breathing though. The breathing is turning into convulsions, I’m going to die in that elevator and it’s dawned on me. I scream so hard the veins pump blood in rushing gulps to my head. My face is all screwed up and ugly. Somehow I’m looking down on myself – I’m watching me die, it’s almost funny.

I wipe my face with the back of my hand. The snot and tears are all down my face and like a gibbering idiot I am begging anyone and anything to let me out. I see myself in the metal walls, my clothes look so dishevelled and I don’t know when it happened but the doors had closed sometime during my hysterical tantrum. I bang on the doors and walls, air seems to be hard to suck in – like it’s syrup. Suddenly things slow down, I watch my tears thud into the company carpet. Slowly it occurs to me that the elevator is my coffin and I am dying in it. I always thought I’d be dead before I got this far! You are supposed to be dead before you got put in a coffin. This is unbelievable. But here I was, scratching at a coffin lid. Splinters of wood from the detail around the metal find their way up under my fingernails. It hurts but I don’t care. I’m bleeding but I don’t care. I’ve gone beyond. My clothes are drenched with sweat and the heat and closeness is overbearing. I feel the walls getting closer and closer and fortunately I blacked out and don’t remember anything else.

Apparently they found me in my bedroom wardrobe. The door was pretty scratched up and covered in my blood and so was I. I was unconscious when they found me, as I mentioned and I guess I’m lucky to tell live to tell the tale – passing out is most probably what saved me.

I woke up screaming about the elevator apparently, and that still happens now and again – maybe even more now. Everyone here at the hospital tries to tell me it’s only an empty room. But I know better than that. They have elevators there if you wait patiently – when you’re a patient there’s not much else to do but waiting. And like they say, it’s all in the mind and mine goes there.

Pick me

pickme

Please don’t pick me

not again

I’m terrified

so frightened I can’t

breathe

It hurts and I can’t

see

through the tears I don’t know

I’m crying

Universe,

Please stop me

now

before it’s too late

and time

steals you away

from me

too brief

to painful

this I can’t do

Please,

Please Universe

don’t pick me

© Kait King, 2015

My SupaSista

SupaSista

This is for my amazing SupaSista

Who has been my strength throughout

My bestest friend and my sister

I just couldn’t do without

Tea and piklet scarfing

Feeling handbags and clothes

Sharing everything like it’s with myself

Things no one else knows

I’ve been at my lowest

Boy that was lowest low

And there she was like a shining beacon

Loving me and letting me know

Happy Birthday to my incredible, dynamic, smart, funny and beautiful sister – I can’t tell you how blessed I feel that you’re a part of MY family! I love you so much xxx

A Seeker

A seeker

I don’t want to be here

I don’t want to be here alone

I don’t want to be here alone in my empty zone

I want to love

I want to love again

I want to love again and be free of all this pain

I can’t do it

I can’t just let it go

I can’t just let it go and pretend I didn’t know

My soul aches

My soul and my heart ache badly

They ache for man’s cruel inhumanity

I’m a seeker

I’m a seeker of love, peace and harmony

I’m a seeker – please tell me you’ll follow me

© Kait King, 2015