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.
I’m writing a series of little memory sketches. Not sure yet, what I’ll do with them. Whether they are the start of something or simply a poetic exercise. Here goes. One of my earliest memories. Belongings Wonky, squeaky house, a wardrobe the size of a country. Fox, with beady eyes. Great granny’s fur in theContinue reading “Belongings, by Britta Benson”
I like liminal places and emotions. Teetering. In between, neither here nor there. A great place to explore. Liminal Rain advances through the mists. November’s gentle hold chooses destinations, depths. Echoes of long lost luminosity. There was a summer. Once. The world seems flatter now. Rain advances through the mists. November’s gentle hold. I stepContinue reading “Liminal, by Britta Benson”
Here’s my response to Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt. This week, it’s ‘Revenge’ with a word count of 72. You can find Sammi’s full blog post by clicking this link: https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2022/11/26/weekend-writing-prompt-287-revenge/ Wanna play? Who’s got the last word in this game? Tooth and nail, just the beginning. Welcome to this exercise in self mutilation, provingContinue reading “Wanna play?”
I follow Mark S’s blog ‘Naturalist Weekly’ and enjoy his posts about the micro seasons. They are always accompanied by a thoughtfully curated selection of haiku. It’s the micro season of ‘The rainbow hides unseen’, the time of year when rainbows are less likely to be seen. You can read Mark’s full blog post here:Continue reading “Indigo, by Britta Benson”
Here’s my response to this week’s W3 poetry challenge set by Aishwarya Kannan. You can find her prompt poem and full guidelines here: https://skepticskaddish.com/2022/11/23/w3-prompt-30-weave-written-weekly/ This week, the poem has to include the word ‘mother’. So for me, the direction was clear. I wanted to write a poetic tribute to my mum who died three yearsContinue reading “Satellite, by Britta Benson”
Thanksgiving isn’t one of my holidays. Still, I like the idea of giving thanks and I also appreciate this time of year. Late November, I’m readying myself for winter. I’m taking stock. I’m smiling. Thanksgiving Winter connects worlds. Words of gratitude summon souls, love, leaves and life.
Lucky Another autumn. Trees remember ends. Forget. Winter freedom strikes.
Away with the birds Away with the birds, right here, sat at my kitchen table. Through the open window a world enters my soul. I have wings, welcome chirpy guests, happy to share their stories for a meal, a habitat, a room for a night, a season. My tiny garden, nondescript shrubs, a couple ofContinue reading “Away with the birds, by Britta Benson”
A little bird poem… I spend quite a bit of time watching the birds in my garden. Listening… Sometimes, I’m fairly sure I understand… Presence Robin on my garden fence. Eyes me up, the fellow. ‘This is my post’, his glare clearly states, to whom it may concern. I know he means me. Am underContinue reading “Presence, by Britta Benson”