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Sunday Stanza: Poem Eighteen- Why Live In Denial By Hannah Williams
Why live in denial? When you could be free. Why live in denial? When you could just let situations be. Why live in denial? When you could focus your attention on more. Why live in denial? When you could see what the world has in store. Why live in denial? When you could transcend? Why Read more
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Seventeen- Dreaming In Denial By Hannah Williams
Denial is saying yes when you mean no. Whilst the choice rests with you. The choice lies peacefully as you watch it sleep. You dare not wake it up. You dare not make a noise. You leave it as it is. Even though you know what to do. Even though the power lies in your Read more
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Sixteen– Community Observations By Hannah Williams
We sit on benches As the words in my throat clenches Some on the field. Where daisies and dandelions have yield. We inhale the breeze Our problems we release Gone with the wind. Because we sat on a field. Music blaring loudly Birds singing proudly. Not that they know all the words But their Read more
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An Analysis of ‘Ask Me’ By William Stafford
Some time when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made. Ask me whether what I have done is my life. Others have come in their slow way into my thought, and some have tried to help or to hurt: ask me what difference their strongest love or hate has made. I will Read more
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Fifteen- I Know Even Though I Don’t Live On The Estate By Hannah Williams
I know even though I don’t live on the estate. Devolution is the politician’s word for recreate… Rebrand and make the surrounding more upstate. The only thing they’ll do is paint the gate. I know even though I don’t live on the estate Crime usually rises when it’s late You’ve been hearing the sirens since Read more
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An Analysis of ‘On My First Sonne’ By Ben Jonson
This blog post will analyse the poem ‘On My First Sonne’ by Ben Jonson which is written below: On My First Sonne Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sinne was too much hope of thee, lov’d boy. Seven yeeres tho’ wert lent to me, and I thee pay, Exacted by thy Read more
Hannah Williams 