Two Poems by Charlotte Begg







Blind mute Dog.


Before my mother’s emergency 


            I remember seeing sanitary pads

concertinaed and stuffed away


  wondering if


       her stomach


remembering  things he’d bit

 from her tongue 


                     (and this is the one

 I believed in most

          aged 12

        from reading my official 

                The Girl Guide’s book for Girls)


when a near impish cord and eye arrived

         and the world


      leaving it   mackled with wrong survivors


did she

bleed and bleed and bleed 


     doctors finish their tea break



‘there’s nothing more we can do.’


did they       pad her leaking parts

the best they could

             sending her home to 


            bleed and bleed and bleed

    into an eternity of trickling


between her   thighs   to remind us

of marcid bee’s    hives


never waiting for the smoking gun.


Maybe that’s why she hates me

      why she scrubs 

my skin so hard while facing the ceiling

trying to find something 

                           I still don’t understand.







Ghost Bird


During the downpour

         a black hole 


 by twigs and moss had fallen


                      I reached out        but was paralysed by

 the soft crack







Charlotte Begg is a poet and artist living on the Isle of Wight UK. She has had various works published, and hopes to publish her own chap book next year. She spreads her time thinly between her four children, puppy, husband, pot plants, a degree in creative writing, and editing Eye Flash Poetry Journal. 


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