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
Filling in spaces
in the game
of my Life
The map of my body
a giver of Life
Changing my places
the marker beyond
And the trouble
with you dear,
is you don’t belong
© Kait King, 2015
Presumed guilty
before proven innocent
the unwilling participant
Assume the best
and prepare for the worst
Expectation costs nothing
but disappointment hurts
© Kait King, 2015
A copy of a letter I sent to all of the primary schools to save children – simple and super effective! Please pass it on
My son is 29 years old now and it has always amazed me at how many parents through those many years, and even now, who have no idea about the concept of the Secret Password.
I used to work as a National Intelligence Support Officer for the police. I have had projects that have highlighted the danger our children are in while getting to and from school and this is an issue which is not going to go away. I have a simple solution that may help to keep children safer than they are now. My son was five and starting school, and with my background and experience I was very aware of the dangers of kerb crawlers and people who would snatch kids from off the street. So I devised this password plan, my son picked the word – at the time he believed he was allergic to zucchinis’ as he detested them so much so that became our Secret Password. This password meant that if I was unable to pick him up from school and had to send someone whom he was not familiar with, or a stranger altogether even, if they knew that Secret Password it was ok to get in the car and go with them. If the person did not know the Secret Password my son was to drop his school backpack and run like the devil was after him, (which would be the case), straight back into the school grounds and to the principal’s office. He only had to use this once, and because he did run, he is still here and I am not writing this letter to you out of a sad and broken story where the solution is all but too late. But I write this out of a realisation that something so very simple could help to protect children, our children, for they are all of our children and we all need to be responsible for helping to keep them safe. I hope you find some benefit in this little gem and hand it out to all parents and caregivers and tell all that you can please, so that this safety net is in place. I thank you for your time to read this and thank you also, for teaching our children and caring for them.
With the most sincerest intent and with regards
Kait King, BA Crim.
© Kait King, 2015
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
There were just
too many
in this crazy crowd
Crushing in on
me
So I’m unable to
shout out loud
It was just
way too
noisy
in that clamouring
sweaty swarm
Body smells too
pungent
The air I breathe in
is warm
The darkness
has a dampness,
a claustrophobic clamp
The lighting bulbous
and hypnotic –
like a giant lava lamp
A pulse
united in
a passionate beat
And ignoring all
the warning signs,
I’m led by my dancing feet
© Kait King, 2016
Music to my ears
bouncing round my soul
shining through my eyes
making me feel full
precious stones of a polished melody
the funky bass is outta sight
pulling strings in harmony
the drums all sittin’ tight
the words are lazy, cruisey, bluesy
summer feeling
stealing through
the music drifting, holding
lifting
Music Love is true
my Music Love is true…
© Kait King, 2015
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
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
It’s funny
how I think
of you
So randomly –
So “out of the blue”
It’s crazy
after all of
this time
It’s been decades
since
you were mine
© Kait King, 2016
What my pen is to paper
my heart is to mind
My pen carves a life
across pages of time
White paper speaks purity
a story untold
the cursor marks the spot
start writing…
be bold
© Kait King, 2015
With a pepper spray surprise
you punch the air out of me
The wet fish in the face they talk about
was a coelacanth of ancient emotions
dug from days beyond myself
beyond my soul
beyond what I knew love to be
The fluke of flowers given me
rise like a tidal wave of pungent perfume
swamping me in dizzying, no –
spell-binding and trance-like memories
and the melodies
that remind me of you
© Kait King, 2015 – Excerpt from My See-Through Mind
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
© Kait King, 2016
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 wondersI speak it loud and often think
If I keep on writing like this
Will there be enough ink?
© Kait King, 2015
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 had 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
Where on Earth
can you be?
If you’re not here on Earth
with me?
© Kait King, 2016
