British Museum, by Britta Benson

The first of my three haiku on history has been published on Whispers & Echoes today. Please check out this online journal for short writing. (https://whispersandechoesmag.home.blog/2022/10/03/british-museum-britta-benson/) British Museum Rooms burst with gold, stone. Pasts: found, bought, stolen, gifted. Confused ancestors.

self, by Britta Benson

Regular readers of my poetry blog know that I like to experiment. Some of my experiments work, others, not so much so. My poem ‘self’ has been included in the t’ART Press Summer Showcase. Theme of the submission call was ‘self’ and for me, it had to be a found poem. Sometimes we look forContinue reading “self, by Britta Benson”

How to explain summer, by Britta Benson

Bit of poetry news: I’m W3 Poet of the Week over at The Skeptic’s Kaddish – a weekly poetry challenge I cannot recommend highly enough. You can check it out here: https://skepticskaddish.com/2022/08/10/w3-prompt-15-weave-written-weekly/ Also: My haibun ‘How to explain summer’ has been published on Whispers & Echoes today. (https://whispersandechoesmag.home.blog/2022/08/10/how-to-explain-summer-britta-benson/) This requires some explaining… I’m in LondonContinue reading “How to explain summer, by Britta Benson”

Togetherness, by Britta Benson

This poem started as a handful of scribbles during a meeting of the Boundary Way Writers Group in February 2022. I am part of the Boundary Way Writers – which is nothing short of ‘modern’, since the group of nature writers is based in Wolverhampton, around the Boundary Way allotments, but hey ho, this isContinue reading “Togetherness, by Britta Benson”

Pondering, by Britta Benson

My poem ‘Pondering’ has just been published by Whispers & Echoes, an online magazine for short writing. Here’s the link: https://whispersandechoesmag.home.blog/2022/05/13/pondering-britta-benson/ Pondering Reeds and rushes, we, like moorhens, whisper red billed truths through debris, duckweed. Reflections of our freshwater hearts flash white and echo the bottom of our soul, forever present, forever secret.

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