Musings of an Obliteration Room sticker sheet, by Britta Benson

A few days ago, I visited the Tate Modern in London. Until the end of August, people can take part in the Obliteration Room, an interactive artwork by Yayoi Kusama. It’s basically a big, white apartment in the Turbine Hall of the museum, and visitors can walk through the various rooms. At the entrance, everyoneContinue reading “Musings of an Obliteration Room sticker sheet, by Britta Benson”

Time, by Britta Benson

A poem about time… I wrote this during a creative writing workshop this morning. I’m still in London, and I think the city percolated a little into my text. Here goes: Time With all our clicks and clacks, tick and tock, between wood and rocks, brick, river, roads, soul and bones, we become passing placesContinue reading “Time, by Britta Benson”

London Lanturne, by Britta Benson

Here’s my response to my own prompt guidelines for the W3 Poetry Challenge ( I’m in London just now and this is my attempt of describing the city in the current prolonged heat wave. I initially chose the lanturne form, simply because of the alliteration. With hindsight, though, I think it works quite well. LondonContinue reading “London Lanturne, by Britta Benson”

A London poem, kind of, by Britta Benson

I’m in London with my son again. Same procedure as every year… He’s sixteen now. I looked back at the poem I wrote last year, upon our arrival. Here’s an edited version of it. A London Poem, kind of Early morning coffee with my son. Victoria, and a long chat, staring out of windows, watchingContinue reading “A London poem, kind of, by Britta Benson”

Mapless in London, by Britta Benson

Just a silly wee poem today, about walking through London and life without a map. Enjoy! Mapless in London Not even Google watches over me as I venture out of my comfort zone. The beauty of going mapless in London and life, lies in the certainty that I will get lost in due course. ItContinue reading “Mapless in London, by Britta Benson”

A London Poem, kind of, by Britta Benson

We arrived in London yesterday and it struck me how much the city changes, every time I visit it with my son, because he has changed. Children change at lightening speed, a month makes a difference, a year is enough time for multiple transformations. So here’s my London poem, kind of. Not really about London,Continue reading “A London Poem, kind of, by Britta Benson”

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