The silver swan, who living had no note, When death approached unlocked her silent throat, Leaning her breast against the reedy shore, Thus sung her first and last, and sung no more: Farewell all joys, O death come close mine eyes, More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise. … Continue reading An Analysis of ‘The Silver Swan’ by Anon
Imagine a garden An elusive garden. You walk past the willow tree It reflects your silenced state. Yet you do not cry nor smile. You did that on your first visit. I did both on my second. This is together is our third. The wind knows our names. Yet it dares not trouble. Petals fall … Continue reading Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty Three: Imagine By Hannah Williams
I expected the earth to shift And oceans to be set adrift. At the spark of our lips Under this lunar eclipse. A soft song fluttered in my tongue Which birthed a love so young. It still makes my heart skip. To think of how your mouth danced on my lips.
Look at my glass house but don't throw stones For sticks and stones may break my home. This fragile abode with a transparent gaze, Often leaves people amazed. So you see my in's and out. A glass house is like a vase. Prized. Fragile. Ornamented. Look deeper and you'll see my fears. For I was … Continue reading Sunday Stanza: Poem Thirty Two- The Glass House By Hannah Williams
I am abstract. So you’d need to extract, What I mean with songs, paintings, words and emotions. My mind works in creative notions. Some days I ask- Am I a circle or a square? Or am I a shape that’s not even there? Could I be right and wrong at the same time? Black and … Continue reading Sunday Stanza: Poem Thirty One- I Am Abstract By Hannah Williams
I will not be able to calm the storm Nor promise you that I’d walk on water. Yet if you find yourself sinking. Remember like mother like daughter. I have had my share of drowning But you will not suffer. I have made my sacrifices for you, Because I want to be your mother.
At a cross way with a cold chorus, Promise was left to be pious. On the right hand of promise was the infallible good. On the left hand of promise was the infallible bad. For Promise has the power to snap your decisions into two. So be benign when you, Cross your heart and hope … Continue reading Sunday Stanza: Poem Twenty Nine- Limbo In A Promise 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 … Continue reading Sunday Stanza: Poem Twenty Six- Name Power By Hannah Williams
You will hear thunder and remember me, And think she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the color of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire. That day in Moscow, it will all come true. When, for the last time, I take my leave, And hasten … Continue reading An Analysis of ‘ You Will Hear Thunder And Remember Me’ By Anna Akhmatova
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 … Continue reading Sunday Stanza: Poem Twenty One- The Dreamers Song 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 … Continue reading Sunday Stanza: Poem Nineteen- Stages Of Denial By Hannah Williams
Our people are broken; But what would happen if the community had spoken? If it had said we are here for the mental, Our hearts won’t be judgemental. Our people are broken; But what would happen if the community had spoken? And said we are here for single mums. We saw your journey we know … Continue reading Sunday Stanza: Poem Thirteen – If The Community Had Spoken By Hannah Williams