Hannah's Blog
Park Hill Flats, Sheffield

'Give it meh, give it meh.'
Angst seeps, oozes, pours from exhausted walls.
Walls overworked, worn down.
They’ve given up on secret keeping;
kept behind closed doors, hissed through open walls.
Lives piled up in jumble sale heaps.
Graffitied dreams and ambitions carved deep,
I love you will u marry me
cut in light, bleeding its request and
the memory of its origin;
a flame struck boy with a fiery love
and a burning question.

'Give it meh, give it meh.'
A child’s slow whine drags itself through landings
unkempt with emptiness.
Hauls itself through floors sagging with time
and dripping with moisture into stagnant puddles below.

Rain drowned concrete weeps,
remembering the tavern’s tap room
before the rust encroached,
remembering the playground
before it was poached
by drugs and dark willed youths.
'It wa'n't alweys laak this,
folk’d peh thaasand fer t’view.’

Grey faced veterans of the Park Hill Ranks
pledge their immobile vow to an immovable home.
Grooved faces sooth the bitter air,
Regiments of the Reminisced,
Minions of the transparent memory;
It was nice here. It was.

Alex Turner

Oil pastel on canvas

The Second Little Pig: A Posthumous Reflection

This is based on the story of The Three Little Pigs. I’ve heard an alternative story to the one I based the poem on, whereby the first two pigs scurry from their houses in time to join the Third Little Pig and work together to collaboratively kill the wolf. I consider that to be the wimp’s version and so based this poem on the grounds that the first two pigs died and only the last survived. The poem is the voice of The Second Little Pig, talking from the grave about the events that led up to his death and his feelings towards the Third Little Pig.

The Green Man

Another video of this poem - written after I crossed the road at some traffic lights one day and I didn’t wait for the green man. I thought, ‘I wonder how he felt about that?’ and so decided to give him a voice.

You Just Weren’t Good Enough, Sorry.

This is based on my failed application to Waitrose a few years ago. They told me they wouldn’t employ me while I was still a student due to me being unable to commit to a lengthy employment stint, but I wondered if there were other reasons.

Spinning Wheels

Tried to say things sooner
but he was afraid they’d be cut out of paper
and strewn across the room like a template.

So instead he spoke in string.
Kept all of the knots in his pockets;
locked notches onto them like keyrings
and gripped the end in his fist.

He’s been thinking about it recently.
Been scratching heads all over the web.
Been searching through boxes to fill
lips that were always bitten
into the shape of an apology.

I’ve been standing looking into the sink
thinking about turning the heating on
and how heavy his pockets must be.

Ian Brown

Biro on canvas


Spray paint

Noel & Liam Gallagher

An old one painted in 2008 - Acrylic paint on canvasimage


Acrylic paint on canvas