anger, by Britta Benson

I’m still working on my third blackout poetry book, advancing at a brisk pace. I hope to have ‘The confessions of an English opium eater’ finished by the end of the month. Still looking for a blackout title for the project. So what could I make of ‘The confessions of an English opium eater’?. ‘The

Air, by Britta Benson

This one may or may not be finished. Not entirely sure yet. Let’s see. Such a seasoned traveller, emigrating, immigrating with ease, no passport required, always arriving and then, leaving again. Doesn’t like to hang about, doesn’t hold on, doesn’t hold back either. Each breath the beginning of a squall, a visit from the past,

Listen to your heart, by Britta Benson

Here’s my response to this week’s Weekend Writing Prompt by Sammi Cox. The word this time: ‘Clockwork’ in 99 words (https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2023/06/03/weekend-writing-prompt-314-clockwork/). Listen to your heart Like clockwork, tick, tock, inevitable, humdrum predictability, ta-dum, ta-dum, and most of the time in perfect working order, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the inner

the present, by Britta Benson

Another blackout poem from my exploration of Thomas De Quincey’s ‘Confessions of an English Opium Eater’. I’m having fun with this book. I love it, when the erasure leads to little philosophical musings. Here’s one I did earlier today: ‘the present’. the present obtuse, morbid, acute, symbolic, deep, mysterious, casual, sudden, special, maternal, pure, possible,

Landscape of my wee hours, by Britta Benson

Here’s my response to this week’s W3 poetry challenge, set by poet of the week, Melissa Lemay. This week, there’s a choice of two paintings by Marc Chagall. I chose ‘The Big Wheel’. You can find the full guidelines and Melissa’s prompt poem here: https://skepticskaddish.com/2023/05/31/w3-prompt-57-weave-written-weekly/ Landscape of my wee hours Home, that moss green sky,

Spirit Animal

So, this week’s challenge on Tanka Tuesday is to write a syllabic poem about our spirit animal (https://wordcraftpoetry.com/2023/05/30/tankatuesday-weekly-poetry-challenge-no-322-5-30-2023-spirit-animal-poetry/). I did the test and to my surprise, my spirit animal is a turtle. Hm. Not quite what I expected… I like to be near the water. Not too keen on being in it – unless it’s

Grain of sand, by Britta Benson

Here’s a wee poem I wrote a while ago. Grain of sand, clean shaven entity of meticulous separation, small but all and eternally grateful for wholeness on a microscopic level, exploring infinite travel options tide by tide.

Time, by Britta Benson

Here’s my response to The Procrastinators’ Five Word Challenge. You can find the prompt post here: https://theprocrastinators58220236.wordpress.com/2023/05/28/the-procrastinators-weekly-writing-prompts-steampunk-time-travel/ – and yes, yet another poem about ‘Time’. It’s one of my favourite themes. The five words this week: Time, rambunctious, strain, island, rescue. Time Rambunctious elephant, tock and clock, then shy little mouse, just a tick, click,

The Whispering Gallery, by Britta Benson

Another blackout poem from the ‘Confessions of an English Opium Eater’. On this page, Thomas de Quincey writes about St Paul’s Cathedral in London, hence the reference to the Whispering Gallery beneath the dome. Here’s what I made of it: The Whispering Gallery, beneath the dome… I imagine years pompously floating to and fro, selves,

Time, by Britta Benson

Another piece of blackout poetry from the ‘Confessions of an English Opium Eater’. Time, immediate, immense, besides my knowing and confidential. Time arrived, spacious, alone, whilst I stood waiting at the foot of anxiety. Time connected, or else, connected, or else parted from me by the gulf of eternity. ©️2023 Britta Benson. No unauthorized use