By hannah stoney on November 5, 2012
For the last couple of years, I have been intentionally and geekily expanding my vocabulary. Every time I come across a word that I either don’t know or half know (the rule is, if I don’t know it well enough to use it myself, it goes in the pile), I make it into an index [...]
By hannah stoney on October 27, 2012
Sitting on the step at the bathroom door, in shoeless heat, I write a poem about faraway snow. Quinn is Neptune in a bath full of plastic dinosaurs. He is roaring and administering Great Outpourings from his Great Plastic Beaker. The dinosaurs are helplessly washed this way and that in stricken groups, their faces frozen [...]
By hannah stoney on October 21, 2012
Land whumped by white, Silenced and ceased by the last word of snowfall. Swaddled like Lazarus, until finally Quieted. Embosomed in effulgent drefts, Made to lie down, ashen and dead and dressed as a bride.
By hannah stoney on October 10, 2012
I see, as I push him along, that the sidewalk unfolds itself in heuristic benevolence before him. Birds and trucks appear as weighty manifestations of the things shown to him in the books he devours (literally). Two birds, little theophanies, cross his path. Hop, hop, tweet, tweet, fly, fly. He shrieks with excitement at the [...]
By hannah stoney on October 2, 2012
I am going through some old notebooks and harvesting scraps of old poetry. Like this: Enormous heart that could crush pythons with its heavy solidity. It might become too onerous and weighty to stay standing much longer. You would need long feet like a clown and a strong stomach to carry such a thing.
By hannah stoney on August 3, 2012
anomie | (also anomy) noun lack of the usual social or ethical standards in an individual or group.
By hannah stoney on June 11, 2012
We climbed out of the car, at once celebrating the wind with king-of-the-world arms. We had chanced the high, flat plain and profited. We had found the only wind there was. We quickly colonised the shaded part of the sand and silently went about ploughing and overturning and disrupting until we became dust and children. [...]
By hannah stoney on June 4, 2012
Today I astounded myself by managing a tiny writing exercise. It is a shared moment, like a worded snapshot. Having written it, I know that I will treasure it in future seasons. It conveys more of our conversations, thoughts and rhythms than a photo or video ever could. I’ll definitely be writing more of these! [...]
By hannah stoney on September 20, 2011
I was listening to the world news on the ol’ wireless yesterday. I have to concentrate so hard when I listen to the news, I find it really difficult to actually hear it. Drone drone drone summit drone politicians drone drone issues drone drone process drone. I realise that what’s being said is important, it [...]
By hannah stoney on July 30, 2011
Oh boo and hooray. Hooray because my cousin Tom is marrying Emma today. Two brilliant people, the kind who readily throw themselves into things and buy the t-shirts. The kind of people who wouldn’t dream of turning up to a costume party with a half-hearted effort. They are intelligent and zesty and kind and true [...]