How can a shriveled, dried up piece of skin, with empty glass eyes even vaguely represent the fluid energy of movement and the mystical mythical beauty of a live animal?
© Kait King, 2015
How can a shriveled, dried up piece of skin, with empty glass eyes even vaguely represent the fluid energy of movement and the mystical mythical beauty of a live animal?
© Kait King, 2015
Please be kind to all animals❤️❤️
I walk in
I can’t speak
the reverence
sucks the air
out of me
candles glitter
in shapes of love
for all of the animals
bestowed from above
And if it is what
they say to be true,
if I’m shaped like the shape
of a god, just like you,
I know that I am duty-bound
to share that love for all
all around
© Kait King, 2015
Please Be Kind To All Animals
Tiny and Tinier 2014
A cove
a sparrow’s trove
of palely speckled eggs
a fluff of feathers
incompetent wings
and skinny wobbly legs
A dangerous night
or maybe it’s two
you spend upon the ground
all alone
but then the sun comes up
and warms your spirit
and you fly yourself off home
© Kait King, 2015
My Mum and Dad in Queen St, Auckland 1956
I walk down the aisle
my eyes passing over cards
words springing out
about Mum going
the whole nine yards
And I stop to read a few
The words just seem
insipid
when I think of you,
Mum
A journey into the intrepid
Four babies later
and over 60 years married
Through wars, tonsillitis,
tears and love you tarried
Now here I am
a mother too
And these words I say: “I love you”
Have also come
from my son’s mouth
and heart
But to say them to you
doesn’t even begin to start
to express what a fantastic Mum you’ve been
You’ve done a good job,
I’m a good human being
So I tell you you’re an amazing Mum
and people are proud of the job you’ve done!© Kait King, 2015
Just before a storm there’s that heavy aching feeling in the sky and electric air. It’s as if the god’s have eaten too much and they have swelled up the sky and filled it with their tautness.
The grasses, trees and shrubs are dead still and almost magnified – waiting – straining and erect for those precious drops of rain to fall upon them so that they too, like the gods, may gorge themselves on welcome water and be able to store up enough supplies to last them through the harder times in between.
I sat just outside to the left of my tent under a tree. I am watching for all the ‘damp animals’ – the one’s who like to frolic and dance amongst the drops as if giving thanks to those glorious gods who have so very kindly provided life support once again.
Gorgeous George is playing with some of the dry leaves that are beginning to stir from being whispered at a little too strongly by the ground winds that slowly pick up as the storm intensifies.
George is my kitten, only not so little anymore – I decided to bring him with me again – I had no idea that he would bring me so much comfort here out in the vast scrubland of Africa.
There is a small lizard; I can see him panting on a flat rock. His breaths are short – he’s sniffing the moist air- totally immobile. George has seen him too and stops fighting his leaf. Slowly he sinks a few centimeters closer to the ground – his eyes almost fully taken up with the expanded pupil. Wriggling furiously he prepares to pounce – still miles away from what he believes is an unknowing lizard. Changing tactics he stalks a little closer. The lizard has seen George now but seems unintimidated. Peering out from under a stalk of whispy grass, 2 out of ten for camouflage George, his whiskers straining, he leaps. His intense energy and passion catapult him well past the intended target which scuttles in between the cracks in the rock unscathed…for now.
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