Category: Sunday Stanza
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Fifty Four: A Land of Honey and Milk by Hannah Williams
a silhouette shawled in titanium with footsteps soft as silk. a graceless poise pierces the back promising a land of honey and milk a shadow tattered in light with sight dark as void a sinister compassionate misled the feet promising a land of honey and milk a shape stirred in sorrow with tears dripping as…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Fifty Three-Journey By Hannah Williams
When the sight glazed across the journey, the lips let out a prayer so swift like the years of the youth. The feet walks casually imprinting its mark. Yet, no one remembers the hand that adorned the feet nor the language that taught it how to walk. An inscription stronger than titanium and more permanent…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Fifty Two-Lament By Hannah Williams
building hands bristled and bruised turns heaviness into light and the ugly tears streaming from the broken but beautiful hearts ask the fragmented hope to forget thy not and rejoice to remember thee not as a song, not as prayer but it rises in that similitude above the firmament and encircling the sky it asks…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Fifty One-Chandelier By Hannah Williams
When emotions are excessive and the mind cannot cope. Close the eyes and imagine each strand. Dangling like chandelier pieces. A glistening ray of hope beacons. A festivity of light dances in the mind. Hold the light. Hold the hope. Let it fizzle the fear. Can you hear the crystals chorus and the diamond note.…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty Nine- Frown Lines
When the voice was stolen and she could sing no more, the frown formed and the lines found solace on her face. In her silence, it defended her. A world where hostility determines if you’re victimised and she’d rather be the victor. So she put it on each morning. After all, you cannot report expressions…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty Eight- Why Did You Follow Me?
Before deciding to walk in her shoes let her show you her feet. The callous blisters tarnished by the stones who decided to dance on her soles. Yet she walking barefoot across the equator with the red soil tarnishing the pigments of her skin. When she crossed the ocean, borders poured cold water which began…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty Seven: Echoes By Hannah Williams
As the television transmits the news unable to peel the callous layers of her mind. She owns a seared conscience which no longer flinch at the vivid violent paintings on her screen. When the hunger of little children hums- she no longer feels guilty. When the injustice harmonises with the defenceless- it no longer warrants…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty Six: There Will Always Be A Rainbow By Hannah Williams
A rainbow formed after the raindrops and the sunlight kissed the vapour. Melting the chaos and illuminating the future. A reminder that when the storm becomes frightening and the sky thunders with lightning and the rays no longer shining and my fears become frightening. There will always be a rainbow. A rainbow formed after the…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty Four: Of Who We Are By Hannah Williams
What do you say to me? When you’re done selling broken dreams? Whilst tears fall down my cheeks like bitter streams. In my search to redeem what could not be fixed. Instead of the tepid truth, You make promises on rainbows that didn’t form after the rain. Your deception got me dancing on clouds. It…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty One- Broken Tears By Hannah Williams
A droplet of despair Dripping from once-dried tear ducts. Flowing frequently A flimsy attempt to hold them Piece it together Patchwork the pain. Sew it silently. With the excess crochet it Turn it into a commodity Then sell the once broken tears to the tradesmen at the stall. Tell them you’ve got an ocean you’ll…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty- Peace Stood Still Like A Tree By Hannah Williams
Peace stood still like a tree Asking the wind to call all nations both bond and free. A valley of freedom we use to know Now drenched in yesterdays cold crimson conflict which overflows Blood became thicker than the lake’s water. Nobody is their brother’s keeper. Peace stood still like a tree Asking the wind…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Thirty Nine- Dear You By Hannah Williams
Sunset and sunrise can be as beautiful as hellos and goodbyes. At each instance, it doesn’t matter if your heart skips a beat or your stomach gets butterflies. Each sleepless nights invites days which will bring you closer to the sweetest lullabies. You may have been chained but know your ankles have power to break…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Twenty Eight- The Financial Crisis By Hannah Williams
The world has felt your wrath before. We felt your violent shake and your ravenous storm. We give new names to old gods. You were once the Latin American Sovereign debt. Then you reincarnated as the Asian crisis. Before you plagued us in all hemispheres and revealed your self as the Global Financial Crisis. We…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Twenty Six- Name Power By Hannah Williams
An unjustifiable criteria Determined by a crooked line Spewed out to split the equator into two. I’ve heard the names one half calls the other. To make it better the cunning half changed the terms. Less economically developed replaced poor. Regulation replaced corruption Grass root movements replaced unemployment. Parallels living in contradiction. So the oppressed…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Twenty One- The Dreamers Song By Hannah Williams
Dreams soar high on the mountain top. Holding onto hope so it never drops. Liberty flowing in harmony with the river bed. Calling courage to forget what the valley said. This is the hopes and dreams of men. Forever, now and even then. Waiting for the fortitude of the unspoken. Healing the sorrows of the…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Twenty- What The Dream Taught Me By Hannah Williams
A dream is a living legacy which cannot be killed by death. Transcends emancipation. It transcends liberty. In fact, it transcend freedom. That I can hope for freedom within my constraints. He taught me. In the content of your character lies the change. That after death your legacy can live on. The man with a…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Nineteen- Stages Of Denial By Hannah Williams
Stage one is characterised by fear. The entity that floats to a mind. Inviting itself in and out like a comfortable family friend. It tells you what cripples you. Debilitating your ability to trust yourself. Once fear has marinated in your mind. Then you can progress to the next stage. Welcome to projecting your fear…
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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…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Fourteen– No Job For Jack By Hannah Williams
Defying the estate stereotype, Jack decided to be the perfect prototype. He went to university. Just to face employment adversity. He worked too hard. But the economy is bad. He gave education all he had. First class university grad. Unemployment makes him sad. Whilst Brad just asked his dad. A myriad of applications sent. Interviews…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Seven- Empire State Of London (An Interlude To Society) By Hannah Williams
A city where dreams can be snatched. Even when your ambition is matched. Your dreams mean nothing in the city. And from the people don’t expect pity. Knife crime and teen violence are on the rise. When will we learn to stop acting surprise. For the kids imitate role models from the street. Because they…
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Four- Moodiness (I Wore It As A Dress) By Hannah Williams
I wore moodiness as a dress. With a matching headband called stress, My handbag conceals my emotions which are a mess. But my shoes point me to a road which reads confess. You’d be surprised to hear what the world sell. And how many people fell For buying this dress called moodiness is expensive. The…