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know, by Britta Benson

Another blackout poem. I’m working my way through a discarded library book. Philippa Gregory’s ‘The Constant Princess’. The binding is no longer existent, pages fall out and I simply take whatever comes my way. This one looks like a cross between a fire and seaweed… know be, realise, understand home, understand, see home, hear, hear.


Another blackout poem, by Britta Benson

I’ve written a couple of poems today, none of which is ready to be shared. So what do I do? I put a blackout poem on my blog. One, that I’ve prepared earlier… I still like doing them. It’s my go to practice, when things go a bit slow, iffy or not at all. FindContinue reading “Another blackout poem, by Britta Benson”

I don’t know silence, by Britta Benson

Another blackout poem… although I do think it looks a little like rainbow frog spawn. Ah well, I like the outcome very much. Not sure what that says about me… So, here goes, I give you rainbow frog spawn: I don’t know silence I don’t know silence. What is it? I believe it is absenceContinue reading “I don’t know silence, by Britta Benson”

Mother, mother, mother, by Britta Benson

So… right now, I’m in an explorative mood. Well, I’m always in an explorative mood, but currently, this also involves scissors, glue sticks and occasionally a black marker pen. Here’s a blackout poem I did last night. I’m particularly pleased with the result and I feel it deserves a spot on my blog. By theContinue reading “Mother, mother, mother, by Britta Benson”