Your greatness
waits inside you
Like a volcano’s giant core
And you will surprise everybody, love
They’ll look at you in awe
They will see that passion in you
That light you need to shine
Keep walking the walk you walk, my son
Very soon will come your time
© Kait King, 2015

He could see
and feel
a slavering beast
He could smell it’s
breath
see it’s sharpened
yellow teeth
It wanted him
to do
bad things
It felt like the
Devil with Hate
Not his usual state
of being
but any Angel
with wings
was going to be too late
It said that nobody
nobody
gave
two shits
And do everyone a
favor
Go ahead
slit your wrists
Kait King 2016
You brought
me pain
like it
should never
be
You showed
me things
I
shouldn’t have
to see
You imparted
knowledge
I
shouldn’t have
to know
You took me
to places
I
didn’t want
to go
You shared
things
I
didn’t want a
piece of
When all
I
needed
was your
kindness
and love
Kait King 11th July 2022 ❤️☮️
Twisted
lying in bed
watching
a moon
wishing
I had you
here
touching skin
to spoon
© Kait King, 2015
There’s something about me that I don’t share much with my readers. Besides singing covers in a band called The Ready Groovers Band, I also write original songs with one of my very accomplished guitar playing members.
Something amazing happens up there on stage. Not every time we play, but sometimes, and it only lasts for the song, sometimes only part of a song, but a bubble seems to surround us. A bubble of energy. A buzzing, heightened feeling of a musical euphoria. It’s harmonic bliss – brief but so fulfilling!
We rehearse every Wednesday and gig every Friday, at this stage. I write music on Mondays and practice everything by myself in between.
Music has been my invisible hug, my permanent sounding board, the never-ending tissue, and my joy!
Welcome to my musical journey – even though I’ve been on it for 30-plus years!
You’ve broken my heart
no,
you’ve ripped it apart
and just left it
over there
shoving it in my face
that you don’t care
no,
that you never did
as a woman
a man
or a kid
no….
you never did
© Kait King, 2015
I’m not looking
for somebody else
I just want to
see you
I completed your
lie detector test
and everything I say
is true
There is no rhyme
or reason
to why we feel
this way
but this won’t
be successful
with all the games
you play
I really want to
believe you
but I think
I’ve been
a fool
I just want to
keep silent –
with you
I’ll lose
my cool
So I cry
quietly
in my pillow
in the night
Knowing things
are ending
Knowing things
aren’t right
Knowing that
no matter what
you don’t love me
the same
I’ll be the one
at night
alone, I’ll cry
your name
© Kait King, 2015
I breathe feelings
I dance emotions
and coddle dreams
I rap time
if it’s mine
and wander the roads
of forever
I trickle into hearts
sometimes I’m poured
sometimes it’s voracious
sometimes
bored
The mystical flow
of the words that glow
in the firelight
faces wait
breath held in
anticipation
waiting on
the words of love
so soft
so real
so true
I feel them
Can you feel them too?
© Kait King, 2015
A velvet darkness
swallows me whole
squashing my air out
taking it’s toll
and all I want
is to breathe again
to run and laugh
with no restraints
The lost and forgotten
never truly gone
hanging on to your spirit
in some shape or form
But the velvet sleep
has a warming charm
as the comfort of death
it means you no harm
Succumb as you must
to it’s deathly grip
For you are the captain
and must go down with your ship
© Kait King, 2015
I didn’t want to
lay back
in the director’s
chair
I didn’t want to
take off my clothes
to help me get “up there”
I didn’t want to be
just bouncy breasts
on TV
I didn’t want my body
out there
for all to see
So I didn’t take
the money
I didn’t get
the job
not for any other reason
than I wouldn’t
suck his knob
© Kait King, 2015
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
Crispy cold
She tries to
Mold
Her icicles around
My heart
I shake my
Head
To refuse her
Debt
But I was lost
At the very start
A lonely day
I spend away
Trying to keep us
Apart
But the doubt
Crawls in
That I’m full of
Sin
And shouldn’t have been
born
With a heart
Kait King 2017
I was reminded to clarify this, by a comment and I thank you; this is how it feels to the person who is so broken they can’t see any future or hope. Of course there are so many more options than suicide, but to the suicide victim there is not.
It hadn’t been a long time – only a matter of months, you could count them in days if you had to. But it felt like centuries. I missed my boy – he was loud and large in my little cottage, but now everything seems too large, too empty and way too quiet!
So landing in Sydney I couldn’t wait to see him and get a giant bear hug – his hugs are the only ones that are like that for me. It’s something very definable, tangible. Anyone else could give me a giant hug but they will never measure up to my son’s loving arms. I have never been a “clasp-hugger”, y’know, brief – per-functionary. There is no point in displaying affection if you don’t mean it. So yes, maybe he has only known how to hug like that – I love that about him. A helluva lot can be said in a hug. And hugging my son at the airport for the first time in ages was like a relief almost…a sigh of thank you Universe – he really is all good! He looked and felt healthy, his hair had grown even longer and his smile beamed across the crowd of anxious collectors. He stood out as if he was the only one in colour and everyone else was black and white.
I know I maybe could be describing everything else – and I’m sure it will come out, but my holiday was really about filling up my soul as a Mum. Spending time with that beautiful little spirit I had nursed, guided and shoved into this lovely young man in front of me, that I am so proud to call My Son.
The springtime excitement
in the fluttering
beating wings
of the bird of love
in my heart
making me think
on these things
The way I toss
my hair
the way I touch
my clothes
the way I brush
your arm
everybody knows…
I see you
looking at me
with
your intense
sparkly eyes
I know
what you’re thinking
but it is you
I choose
with your tough outside
and your inside –
so soft and warm
I know I’m so safe
With you
If nothing else
Is true
I will never come
to any harm
Kait King 2017
2. Just because you write, your long sentences are effective…
I wonder what my reaction
would be
if I came home and had
to see
you with someone that was
not me?
Would I stay or
would I flee?
The four stages
of shock
when you find someone else
locked
on the end of your man’s
cock
and you need a loaded
Glock
So do you stand quietly
by the door
do you want to
watch some more
or
do you want to scream at her
she’s a whore
or collapse on
the floor or
walk out?
Do you do it all
real calmly
like you don’t really
want it to be
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Would you please explain to me?”(tearfully)
That would be nice
but it’s not me
This is more
my reality
“I’m gonna kill the both of you for free!”
“How could you do this to me?” (insanely)
But a gun wouldn’t leave me
in doubt…
© Kait King, 2015
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 🙂
I had to do six months of research on suicide once. I’m not going to get into statistical mumbo-jumbo in this piece, this is about my experience during this time and what I felt and understood from that experience.
Sitting at my desk for at least eight hours a day, reading about how people had chosen to end this lifetime, was alright for the first 2 or 3 weeks, I think. I looked at it as a job and that I needed to provide the most comprehensive, yet detailed report on what was happening to our community in our district. I wanted to find answers and resolutions. I wanted to give it my very best for those who had left and for those who had been left behind.
Now part of being able to do this type of work is being able to distance yourself, compartmentalize and focus on giving your full attention to the job at hand. That job was to look at the past 5 years of coroners’ reports on suicide. This ranged from a ten year old hanging themselves from a washing line, to a couple in their 80’s who decided to leave together. Naturally, the older the individual and especially there being two of them, that was almost comforting, darkly romantic, but that was as good as it gets. The child and everyone in between were just tragically sad and seemingly so unnecessary. The information in the reports contained everything and I gathered something like 900 suicides and the individual information on a spreadsheet I designed.
It was a very in depth piece of work and very tolling. After those first few weeks, I found I was taking some of these individuals I had been digging around in, with me. Back home with me. It started with me feeling like someone was looking over my shoulder while I was working. No one was, but it became very awkward. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling. This went on for weeks. I felt like someone was not happy with me digging around in their past. Some people had been from a criminal background, a few had been child molesters, they had been related to their victims. Not nice people but I was not doing this to judge, I wanted information to help. Many had just been overwhelmed with financial stress, a too demanding life, a hopeless situation.
Then one day, after spending my working day feeling like I had a bunch of suicide victims hanging around me, that feeling then started following me. I had a little two door car. As I drove home, I felt the car become more and more crowded. I turned the music up, opened windows. Nothing changed. I couldn’t wait to get home and get out of the car. Pulling up into the driveway I saw my flatmate outside mowing the lawn. I got out and felt better, we chatted and I went inside. I felt a little better when I was around others but I didn’t want to tell anyone what was going on. When I climbed into bed that night I asked those lost spirits to leave me alone. I had thought about it and figured that these people’s spirits may be trapped here for some reason. I didn’t know why and I didn’t understand how I knew this was the case, I just knew.
I felt that being so personally involved in each individuals’ death had brought these spirits close to me, not all of them – but somehow these guys had become trapped or lost on an earthly plane. I made a decision to do something crazy – or what may be thought of as crazy by others. I was at home alone one weekend and I could feel the heaviness of these souls around me. Something compelled me to go outside and look up at the sky. It was a cloudy, drizzly day with a bit of gusty wind. The trees rustled around us and I felt the need to speak out loud to these souls. I said to them that I understood that not all of them had done the right thing here on earth and had left so much heart break and devastation behind. But there was a light they needed to find over there. I said I forgive you – I didn’t know who or how many there were but I told them they were all forgiven for everything and needed to go towards the light. I kept repeating this, looking up at the iron grey sky. Then all of a sudden I felt a sudden lightness. The sky didn’t open up, no lightning, torrential rain or blasting wind – they just seemed to move away from me.
I kept using this solution to help those souls move forward each time I felt someone around me. I had to wait to get home so that I could be alone and in the quiet – oh and keep it a secret, until now…
A Survivor
I woke up early one morning, as per usual. I have a weird sleep pattern due to medication and pain so it was about 4 am. Turned on the TV, said hello to my little bunnies, Miss Hunny Bunny Bumps and Wally and made a cup of tea to take back to bed. I watched Amy Schumer and something else…I think Murder made me Famous – I can’t exactly remember but I was in a cheerful place and not exactly engrossed in what I was watching at the time. So typically I picked up my laptop and started opening up the usuals; Google – email, WordPress etc.
I’ve been on WordPress for two years in March 2017. I am pleased to say I have only ever had one other situation similar to this and that was when I first began, but on the whole, I have met beautiful people who all have things/demons/relationships/life/death/guilt etc to deal with – just like everybody else.
Yet this morning someone unpleasant had visited about 5 or 6 poems and written some nasty shit on them – just negative, angry, hateful. Now I don’t tolerate hate and I certainly don’t want my blog that I write with truth and heart to be connected to that hate, so I had to block this person. Before I did that, I went to go and see their blog to find out what kind of person they were before I did cut them off. The blog I visited was full of negativity and darkness, degrading, nasty stuff. “I don’t give a fuck about anybody and Fuck you all” were the repetitive take-away messages of the day, every day. I read one of the pieces written all the way through, by force, as it was painfully boring, poor grammar and spelling – but most of all, just not what anyone wants to hear! But I afforded the blogger the return bother and time in reading it, as they had bothered to read and comment, although negatively, on mine.
The post was telling people basically to keep their nose out of other peoples business (this had also been said on one of my poems as well as it was bullshit and I was fake), anyway, this is what they were spouting about on their own blog. Keep out of my shit and don’t fuck with me! were also threats I received on my own poems…weird – I thought they were my writings and thoughts/experiences anyway! So I wrote a comment on the bottom of the post and said it was wise to take one’s own advice and that I was sorry they were so pissed at the world. The End. I did not get angry or upset or take these foolish words to heart. I did not respond with hate or vengeance or retaliation. I did not bite – they went away….there’s something in that….
Kait King 2017
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
too painful
this I can’t do
Please,
Please Universe
don’t pick me
© Kait King, 2015
Infiltrators
Instigators
Agitators
All are Traitors
Undercover
Lieing brother
Two-faced
Sister and a
Sneaky listener
A massive
Betrayal
Our Leader
Has
Failed
And the
Tribe all
Stood strong
Knowing the truth
All along
At times
The violence
In the deafening
Silence
A 3 am raid
That was
Planned
But that’s
No problem
For our humble
Tribe
And that’s why
We stand strong
At the
Freehive
Kait King 28th February 2022
Crimes so heinous
have made you famous
While your victims lie
deep in the dirt
Your name is remembered
with murder it is tempered
Those left behind in a life
drowned with hurt
Your face is well known
a killer repeatedly shown
The victims in photographs
quietly inert
Kait King 2017
There’s an empty
bottle on the table
A lonely shoe
left on the floor
A dress flung on
the back of a chair
A damp towel hangs
on the door
There’s a shadow
in my bed and
I guess that must be me
I am the Invisible Guest
in my house
as far as I can see
I float over to my bed
to see the shadow
tucked in deep
You would never
think I was dead
I look like I’m asleep
No one knows
I’ve gone yet
No one knows
I’ve left
I’m sad to leave
my family
crying and bereft
But there’s a light
shining for me
I’m ready to walk
in to
if there’s everything
I’ve forgotten,
I’ll remember
I loved you.
Kait King ♥️
14th September 2019
1. Just because he remembers that you like the mint centered chocolates from a box of Roses because of the tantrum you threw when he attempted to eat one the first time but not the only time since you ate chocolates together 7 months ago, doesn’t make him a mind reader…
I don’t know why we don’t talk about suicide more, well actually I do. Eventhough history has shown us that the more we talk about something, the more we are educated and made aware of that anomaly and how to handle or cope with it.
As with sexuality and religion, we have gained so much because people stopped being afraid to talk. Certain things are no longer taboo or floating amongst the unmentionables.
Talking about suicide is not easy but it is necessary in order for us to gain knowledge and understanding. Suicide needs to be brought into focus and addressed, not hidden, shamed and blamed.
Suicide has such a giant stigma attached to it, in fact, several. One being the feeling of failure and hopelessness as a parent or someone who was close to the person. The feeling that you failed them completely. Your job was to protect your kid, know everything about your friend, keep them safe…we didn’t do that , we failed. We weren’t enough for them to stay in this world with us and go through it with us. Didn’t they know that we would’ve done anything for them? Didn’t they know they could talk to us? Didn’t they know that we wouldn’t judge them or make fun of them? Why didn’t they know that or feel that? How did we fail so badly to not let that person know how much we loved and needed them, how important they were in our world, how different life is without them and instead having to live with the guilt and doubt. It’s heavy, the burden weighs like a black hole in outer space…
Then there is the shame that goes with being the parent of a child or the partner/husband/wife who has committed suicide. Shame is different to guilt. Shame is the sadness I feel at not being able to correct something that was wrong and I should have. Guilt is the feeling of being responsible for the end result. Neither one of those feelings may be validated in real life, but now that someone has taken their life, it changes those left behind.
There is the question of why, which never goes away. The wonder, the wishing, the ache that it could just change back to when you were here, and alive – it never goes – that wonder, that ache…
A Survivor
Just to be painless
I need to
be numb
Just to be painless
I must be
made dumb
I can’t connect
but just lie
in a bed
Life laughs
at my bet
Just to be painless
I can’t be me
Just to be painless
I can’t be free
Just to be painless
and live a life
I wanted to live
The purpose
that would give
Just to be painless…
© Kait King, 2016
I’ve often wondered why just about everything we discuss has to be blah blah blah OR blah blah blah… Why can’t it be both? Why is it not possible that these things are symbiotic? Co-morbid? Dual catalysts? I listen to people discuss the big question of how we got here. The options, in this conversation, may I be so polite, are:
Okay, so everybody’s got a point and nobody has the answer so there is some validity of possibility in each perspective. Especially if you consider the human to be made up of physical, mental and spiritual capacities and needs, which I do. And in this debate there is even more than two sides to contemplate. So each individual has solid, understandable reasons – well within reason, and are glued to the ground on what those reasons are and why. The discussion becomes what people like to call “heated”. I, totally unlike my robust debatable self, still did not get involved. I could hear the rising of offensiveness from each party as the others poo-poo’ed each others perspectives and theories. It wasn’t going to end well, nobody likes to be poo-poo’ed.
After the hoo-ha and everyone had left, my man and I plonked ourselves in front of the television, grateful for the calm noise and not the hysterical noise. Everyone would get over it but it was always the same with the topic of how we got here, not just with people I knew, but many will argue these points to the enth degree, with really, no real evidence to be honest.
So for me, I decided that being only human, I really knew sweet F.A and to tie it up nicely in my head, I just gather all of that info and think that maybe we were created by some super entity as a 3rd rock, as a planet within a universe. But that was all, then one of the stars in that universe, with life in it, crashed into this 3rd rock and was the prime delight to allow things to flourish and grow, and so it did. And things did evolve and become this amazing exotic world we are fortunate enough to live on now.
Why can’t everyone be right? They can be right somewhere in a time continuum of the human development and creation. They just all need to put their stories together. But like I say, nobody has the answers, and maybe we don’t even find out a bloody thing when we die and still know jack-shit (a good friend of mine)…
The other thing people tend to do this with is my favorite topic – serial killers. For some inane reason we have to ask whether it is nature OR nurture….it’s both for dog’s sake. If you could take a serial killer as a baby and nurture him in a certain way you will either bring out or highlight the best or the worst of that character. What I think we need to realize is that this is a possibility for every child as again, everybody has the capacity to kill, it just depends on how that is brought out in you. For some people, all that has to happen for them to pull out a gun and kill someone, is an insult outside of a bar. For others (myself included) I would have to be in a situation where my life or the life of someone was threatened and they were being hurt. Then I become the killer. We all sit somewhere on that continuum and depending on how we are treated is how we will react. But at the end of the day, intention, mens rea, is everything. So for me it is both, not one or the other in this instance too. I’ve been finding out in my life that things are not always black and white. Human beings are complex, emotional beings with such a variety of combinations of everything that it is impossible to label or put people in boxes. It just doesn’t work like that.
But I must stop rambling now – I have so much I could scribble about – but I will not bore you with my ranting and raving. I put my soapbox away…;) thanks for reading though, if you got through it!

Cemented down
Concrete furrows
on your brow
Icy stare
eyes of blue
Mouth a gash
of hatred, too
© Kait King, 2015
I’m not the hero
I used to be
but I’ve mastered
the art of
Insanity
© Kait King, 2015
With a delicate stillness
and a quiet noise
with porcelain perfection
and perfect China poise
the body is supine
lying dead on the floor
supine in exsanguination
a choice to become Death’s whore
Ruby red your favourite colour
you wear it very well
although I won’t see you out much
a story we will tell
Did you get off scot-free?
Did you truly escape?
Or will you have to pay your dues
and return to this landscape…
© Kait King, 2015
I am a chocolate addict
call me what you will
Mouth open wide
Chocolate pouring in
that’s how I’d get
my thrill
I am a sugar junkie
call it how you want
I order a starter to have
dessert
at the restaurant
Sweet tooth, sweet freak
call it what you like
but nothing makes me happier
than my sweet sugar
spike!
© Kait King, 2015
I’m tired
Tired of not
being included
in your future
Even though
we have a five
year past
I’m tired
of grieving for
my future
When all
you do is
grieve for
your past
It won’t last…
Kait King 2020

At lunch today
I fell a little more
in love with you
Your smile grazes the
inside of my heart with
such passion
At lunch today
your blue eyes brighter
for seeing me
Sparkling over
sparkling water
with just a hint
of lemon
that cannot sour
our chemistry
At lunch today
while I watched you
talk
I followed your lips
watched your mouth
heard nothing
and thought just
about kissing
I love having
Lunch with you
© Kait King, 2017

Mum at Kai Iwi Lakes, January 2019
You’ve watched me
Grow up
I’ve watched you
grow old
And I speak for you
Now
When I used to do
As I was told
Your face is
Still the same
And your eyes…
They sometimes
know
But your words
Are lost on me
And you
You don’t want me
To go…
I kiss you
Many times
Touch your face
And hug you
Tight
You ask me
Where my Dad is
You’re shocked
When I say
He’s gone…
into
The light
Kait King 2019
I know you’re
With Mum, now
But I miss you
All the same
I miss your constant
meow
And calling out
Your name
I miss you, My Harry
Things are just
Not the same
You’re not lieing
upside down
On the driveway
Or being a
Major pain
I don’t fall over you,
Anymore
And the fridge hasn’t
Been scratched
In a week
I miss stroking
your old body
That once was young
And sleek
I miss your sweet face,
My Harry –
Your cookie-making paws
Your teapot curled
fluffy tail
And everything and more…
Kait King 20th of May 2025
In memory of one of the coolest cats I’ve had the pleasure of sharing a fraction of my lifetime with, but all of his. I wasn’t ready to let him go. I have a massive empty space I don’t know how to fill right now.
You look at me
with such
tranquility
I believe perfection
sits here with us
I look at you
with such
admiration
to have entertained me enough
to still sit here
with me
© Kait King, 2016
Hi babe
There you are lying –
fast asleep
You are softly snoring
and my heart still
misses a beat
As the love in me
is so great
there is nothing I need
to contemplate
This is how you are to me
in all your vulnerability
but you will always be safe with me
if you can love – it will set you free
© Kait King, 2015
![Disappointed Love, 1821. Oil on panel, 24 3/4 x 32 in. (62.8 x 81.2 cm). Inv.: FA.65[O].](https://kaitkingthewriter.blog/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/say-it.jpg?w=300)
You say the words
I want to hear
But your actions tell me
loud and clear
that you don’t even
want me here
© Kait King, 2015

And confusion rages
like a winter storm
pushing through my
veins and there’s nothing
I can think
Although there is plenty
I could do
But the storm is
blinding and vicious
And I’m thinking of
my life
Like between a rock
and a hard place
And no, I’m not trapped
I’m not unhappy…
with right now
As the ever-bleeding
heart I’m eased
into the terror of
the unknown
It’s not a bad dream
If it was I wouldn’t know if
I really want to wake up –
Does this just mean for me
that it’s time to face reality?
© Kait King, 2016
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