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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”


Belonging, by Britta Benson

Today, my poem was inspired by my old phone. A phone I keep, because it has all the messages my mother sent me. And although she died over a year and a half ago, I still hang on to this phone and can’t bring myself to let go. Not quite. Not yet. I will, inContinue reading “Belonging, by Britta Benson”