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
words
I place the brain in its’ skull….
When I finally find my rhythm and I am the one eager to push forward. When I can’t help but mould and mash a character of no charm, or carefully fine tune a delicate life, an angry spirit, that tortured soul….nothing can stop me. Time is of zero meaning or consequence. Food and water are not necessities, they are interruptions – as is anything else that must drag me from my Frankensteinian stupor. My frenzied, impassioned creation can sometimes make me feel overwhelmingly powerful or incredibly tiny as I realise how childlike my perception might be…or is it drama queen stuff? Not naivete…surely….not another avenue to explore…surely. Let me write it out of me in some shape or form so I can recognise it in some shape or form, not just a passing thought….a forgotten idea, feeling…story. Place the electrodes and blast it into the light, out to the night, encompassed in fright…write, write, write
© Kait King, 2015
Pass it forward:
sigh….
Sometimes I stare blankly at my computer screen, it gives me nothing back and I have nothing in my head. Yet it feels like something is very close…all I have to do is start. Just start somewhere…even if it’s exactly what is in my head – like “sigh”… They say writing is a discipline and this is very true for me. Even though once I’m actually writing I’m sucked into the void, it is sometimes a struggle to start. I love writing and get lost in the whirlwind of it all, and then wonder – why am I so resistant at times? Am I worried my words will get used up? I won’t have anything to write? And I have to mentally slap myself on the wrist – how shallow I am to think I would have experienced and felt everything there is to feel and experience so I could write about it.
The world and universe are far greater than the capacity my brain has to understand all things. I really am but a grain of sand in the big picture of things. We all are – but grains of sand make stunning beaches and pieces of paradise when put together….I wonder if there is something we should be learning from this? And who would’ve thought that a mere grain of sand on its’ own also had the power to change perspectives. That paradise beach is not so out of reach for the human race – if only we all stuck together to keep paradise a paradise…
Pass it forward:
Does Anyone Ever
Does anyone else
ever feel
That this world
isn’t real?
That you know
you don’t belong
Perhaps the ‘Big Guy’
got it wrong
This is not
where you’re meant
to be
Running on the
hamster wheel –
trapped
and not free
Do you ever
think to yourself:
“I am the ostracized alien
I am the one
who doesn’t
fit in!”
And decide to make
a concerted effort
But remain
disappointed
So you retreat
and think,
“Fuck it”
© Kait King, 2016
Pass it forward:
Dark Man
What cruel god
sent you to me
dark hair
dark eyes
dark soul
What fallen angel
turned on me
bitter anger
bitter words
bitter mind
What desperado
begged to be
the embittered mind
and darkened soul
in me
© Kait King, 2015
Pass it forward:
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
Pass it forward:
Writer’s Blogk: Observation 1
- As a writer, if you don’t suffer empathy, then you really will only ever write for yourself…
Pass it forward:
Anyway, Any way
I so wish
I could have
been a better mum
But he still loves me
anyway
I see the photo
next to me
Colors blue and grey
you and I
Not much to spend
but time
and he still loves me
anyway
I feel I may have
failed you in
too many ways
to count
In spite of that
you are a beautiful
soul
and you still love me,
anyway
Kait King 16/7/2018
Pass it forward:
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
Pass it forward:
If I could…
If I could cut out your
heart
This is how it would
feel
And the music will tell
you
How come it’s so
real
If I could cry with your
eyes
This is how it would
feel
And the words that I
sing
Is how come it’s so
real
© Kait King, 2015
Pass it forward:
Sometimes a word
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 ever 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
Pass it forward:
We love you Mum
We love you Mum
And we have to say
It’s not fair you only get one day
When every second of every minute
We thank the Universe for putting you in it
There are not enough words
In any language spoken
All we have is a small token
Of our love to give
Reflected in the life we live
We’d tell you every single day
How much we love you in every way
Without you, we’d be nothing
Without your love, we’d not survive
Without your grace, care and kindness
We’d be born another child
So we thank you Mum
We are grateful for who we are
The equal sum of you and Dad
Have made us who we are
© Kait King, 2015
Pass it forward:
Paper Cups
” Paper is
the bottomless
cup
I can pour
myself into “
© Kait King, 2017
Pass it forward:
The Writer’s Blogk: Observation 2
- Poetry, or writing, isn’t a forced process, I wake up at night to scribble down stuff. I keep a pen and notebook at hand so that I don’t lose anything – I may wake up in the clear light of day and just think it’s a load of crap….but at least I get to verify that!
Pass it forward:
I can’t help it
Lonely words
on a hungry page
I see you through
a love-drenched haze
I’ll make it through
the crying days
I can’t help it that I love you
Bleeding heart
in a tortured mind
I never thought
You could be unkind
But I ll make it through
the hurting time
I can’t help it that I love you
© Kait King, 2015
The writer's blogk 