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Odd, by Britta Benson

This is one of those poems, that just are. They come out and after hardly any alterations, they want to be left alone. I like this about poetry, about writing and being creative. Sometimes a piece happens accidentally and just ‘is’, other times it takes a while or forever to get it right, and there’sContinue reading “Odd, by Britta Benson”


Breaking, by Britta Benson

It’s been a tiring day, I’ve got my second dose of the Covid vaccine today. I feel a bit groggy and really didn’t fancy writing about needles and diseases, so I stuck with something safe and always welcome, an escape. Breaking I’m an exceedingly good breaker. Down, not a problem. Open, a tad more tricky,Continue reading “Breaking, by Britta Benson”

Lucky me, by Britta Benson

One of my favourite things to think about is luck. I’ve always considered myself as incredibly lucky, albeit in a very twisted sort of way. Not with money, that’s for sure. But lucky in the sense that I wake up every morning with the joy in my heart that today is a good day toContinue reading “Lucky me, by Britta Benson”

Family Album, by Britta Benson

Today, I flicked through an old family photo album and it hit me, the way we are all a jumbled up mixture of the people who have lived before but also a glimpse, a sneaky peak of the people that are yet to come. I see long gone relatives in my reflection and aspects ofContinue reading “Family Album, by Britta Benson”

Headless, temporarily, by Britta Benson

This week, my creative writing group, The Procrastinators, work with the prompt ‘headless’. I came up with it on a whim, and then thought, that actually, losing your head every once in a while, might be a liberating experience. And also much needed. So much so, that it perhaps should be a regular past time…Continue reading “Headless, temporarily, by Britta Benson”

Cast off, by Britta Benson

I love writing about writing, bit of an occupational hazard, I guess. Creativity is such a joy, a privilege, a gift, it almost makes me love being human. Cast off I’m writing through this day of storms and debris, process chaos into lines of black and white to make the grey, the colours reappear onContinue reading “Cast off, by Britta Benson”

Abandoned, by Britta Benson

Bit of a strange day, today. Looking through old notebooks and then finding a scrunched up poem in a place where it definitely shouldn’t have been. Abandoned ages ago, but still in my mind and there’s this feeling of not wanting to let go – no. Worse. The feeling of not wanting to make aContinue reading “Abandoned, by Britta Benson”

Thunder, by Britta Benson

Thunder I hacked deep, cut cancers out clean to get rid of the fear and extinguish the last lightning spark, stop the clanking of want in my soul for a moment’s peace. All went quiet, but then, the wind dragged scraps and splinters back in through the letterbox, a cat flap, gaps in my heart.Continue reading “Thunder, by Britta Benson”

Still, by Britta Benson

Still I’m hiding underneath the song of birds. The witch’s cackle of caterwauling sea gulls protects the familiar whisper of my breath, the steady drum of my heartbeat. I’m hatching plans under cover in the warmth of the late morning sun, create and unleash worlds yet to be travelled. I’m still here, I’m healing, breakingContinue reading “Still, by Britta Benson”

If life’s a game, by Britta Benson

If life’s a game If life’s a game, then surely, it’s best discovered in play, curiously, put together like the words in a poem. Never forced into form, by hook or by crook, more suggested, a seed, watered with generosity. Endless rounds of hiding, seeking, change. Your move, a turn, a random act of love,Continue reading “If life’s a game, by Britta Benson”