. evil it was, evil it is . by Sonja Benskin Mesher

did you dream of evil last night, for evil it was.


pocked, bleeding and dead.           back broken.


this morning the garden is damp, a mole  died



plans for a new path are growing, yet there was





last night.



.division. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

numbers came suddenly, soon after one. nothing added any more, all began to subtract, divide, the result algebraic there are no rulers, lines to divide, the total is irrelevant now, the addition foremost. i have been to the counting.

initially, crossed the  sea to the land, from one to another, then, talking. crossed the narrow bridge spoke of the past, you know what i mean.                                                                       courage to walk


a book about death. 14.


.mathematics. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

irregular, you came, your best clothes shining.   never mind. the first tune hit the mind, patterns and mathematics.   the kindness that is.


he said. machine you see.   glass reflecting.            slowly it starts repeating.   the walls of differing colours.  we have the dvds.                                          on and on repeating on and on repeating on and on repeating.


back to the counting, how many have there been, how many are left still standing. an issue for some, yet we  amend the figures here and move on. lucky ones,            maths divides and decimates others.






. next wednesday 29 . by Sonja Benskin Mesher


simple notes, there is much discussion now, where the place used to be pure quiet and  acceptance.

it seems to him that talking does not get the job done.                 gently balancing wool.  words  fall .


we had gathered here before to watch the weathering.     referendum come and gone with fury.




fails us.


simple notes. none rise higher than the one next.


to you, to me, this may not be

the acceptance



.his model shop. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

with great love and care ( adverb) he made them. each one             by hand.

most were killed before breakfast. visitors asked to see the bodies,  having

none, he imported them from abroad.                                    more  killed than

the somme. thousands after dawn.                         he has models now of dead

soldiers, some with arrows in.

small scene          first world war,                            glow in the dark.    memorial.

having spent time among his battles,   i went and ate a donut.           lovingly.


..parlay.. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

win or lose.                    hedge  your edge.

write of parlay.             slowly ending bet.

forbidden child!             drift into another.

world.                                               tabbed.

dice or other  games.

no one wins…..


:: birds sing :: by Sonja Benskin Mesher

she talked rapidly

about family,

history, opera, poetry.


i idled,

listened a bit,

eyed her clothes.


wished i dressed liked that,

treat myself,

et cetera.




she told me


her uncle,

in war painted

white crosses on men who deserted.


an aim for those

who shot them.


she said,

he was never the same after.




. magna carta . by Sonja Benskin Mesher

is left behind with tiny writing. salisbury cathedral.


the back way. written in latin for those who matter.


those words and those words

an historian uttered sent me reeling          outside.

where air is cleaner.


oh , by the way

left you both there too. were you trying to appease

the barons?


…this arid land… by Sonja Benskin Mesher

water flows down this valley. wind blows

round our houses.i have said it before.yet


seems that those who should know better,

talk of gods, may judge the             people .



live in remote places.


between mountain, sea.      the land becomes




this arid land.


. gentle . by Sonja Benskin Mesher

it has been so, so many years. dormant.


hurts and atrocities.


you did not know you said it.

did not remember.

did not mean it.


sixty years later, passed it forward

when you shouted.         this is how

things go                                   round.


for which i apologise.

hurts and atrocities.


.. murder .. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

they killed it.


without hesitation.


it glittered like starlight, fine, upstanding, an

example of friendship, solidarity. dead. they


killed it dead.


it shone with kindness and friendship

so they deliberately made it die.  now


they continue to murder what is left,

as they have done before.


it was a good thing.it was different. that


is all.


. deleted . by Sonja Benskin Mesher

should have gone deleted. you went and liked it, commented.


now is done,  we are  as exposed.

we are responding to the prompts.


reportage.  write again, tomorrow.


we are witness.

nothing is as it seems. there are enough disturbances in the world,

without another. stay under glass.


though it is a secret, we have none


. slabbed . by Sonja Benskin Mesher

lay dead . do not speak nor ask for   fear.

lay quiet. do not write nor tell. there    are

new shoes by the wardrobe.     at an angle.

still. do not move nor participate in  any


do not breathe, nor cry. there are    new

shoes by the wardrobe,            new shoes.


. in a word . by Sonja Benskin Mesher

Butchers used to hang their pigs (ham) by the tendons (strings) in the back of the knee. The Hamstrings are actually 3 different muscles that work together to extend the hip    and flex the knee.
Basically the hamstrings most important job is to make sure your leg doesn’t fly off your body when you run.
Yes, Found words with capitals. Then there are cheeestrings which i find taste of  nothing
in particular.
He was not tongue tied in the medical sesnse, he stammered and was bullied over it. While
I stood by with love and embarrasment .
We have since learned a thing or more.
Then there is the thread to consider,                             yet I understand that some use thorns.
Stories continue of bound feet and
He suggested that body dysmorhia may be at the heart of things.                                           bdd.
 I fear he may be right.
Research Albino.

. the civil war . by Sonja Benskin Mesher

i posted it, titled it.                                 civil war.

stopped and wondered how any war, any fight,

any death, anger and destruction. any child hurt.


can be termed, ‘civil’.


even with punctuation.




double meanings.



.dead. by Sonja Benskin Mesher



we walked on up near the copper mine , a darker place.                          got to thinking.




it comes as no suprise. often ill they die.                                   it is the way.     it is not sad.



we are sensed with  loss.                                                                                 that includes you.


he says that’s where the wind comes from,                                       to go most everywhere.




probably do not miss him.                       he was not around us much, well  not at all really.

he buggered off.   no inspiration then.                                                   yet.   he was my dad.




some day i will carry the bones inside.