he is on the hunt
sits you down, lays into you
hours on end
you hurt, you weep, you forgive
show me how you love. teach me.

© hannah t

Published in: on March 7, 2011 at 5:14 pm  Comments (16)  

very superstitious

I think my bad state of mind brought bad mojo to the teams I like.

Also, someone please answer me this: why does Liverpool always win when I watch their matches?  At least it was Kuyt.  I like Kuyt.  Once he nabbed his second, I hoped for a hat-trick.  I was spoiled before Brown’s free kick was taken, and I was all “ugh, couldn’t it at least be Kuyt?”…then Kuyt dashed forward and popped the ball in.  How thoughtful of him!

(Not a Manchester United supporter, but between them and Liverpool – them.)

Published in: on March 7, 2011 at 5:54 am  Leave a Comment  

I yam…

I yam…

captain with no cape
just countless caps
and the number 1

master of no universe
just 8 by 24 feet
and hearts of various sizes

I call the shots
and I save ‘em

© hannah t


Published in: on March 1, 2011 at 5:39 pm  Comments (9)  



you are the green
keeping me keen
link between my silver

you are the potion
in my veins
sword moulded with my soul

cupid fired his arrow
shot through my heel

© hannah t


Hint: 2 DC, 2 Marvel, 2 Greek mythology :)

Published in: on March 1, 2011 at 5:35 pm  Comments (6)  

England v France: (9) 17 – 9 (9)

Let’s do this, penalty goal style:

1. Chris Ashton swallow-dived…but it wasn’t meant to be.

damn you, forward pass!


2. Jonny is back on his throne.  Today’s first order of business was reclaiming his position as the all-time top points-scorer in Test rugby (1190 points).

commentator bellows: WILKINSOOOOOOOOOON

Gotta feel for Dan Carter (1188 points).  He’s only had the record for about three months.  I remember it took him a good few attempts before he stopped missing the kick.  I also remember watching and wondering if the anticipation was causing performance problems.  I should remember to stop projecting.


3. Jonny cut his hair :’)

you can hitch my ride anytime


(Images from Zimbio)

Published in: on February 27, 2011 at 6:34 pm  Comments (2)  
Tags: , ,

white walls

white walls

no posters, no photographs
no pretentious art pieces
no evidence of childhood
no remnants of adolescence
no traces of what came after
clean slate for the taking

pictures to paint, murals to mount
words to write
fresh colours
new stories
every day
blank canvas for the mind

white walls
do not hold me ransom
for yesterday or today
white walls
hold only hope
for always
sanctuary for the soul

© hannah t

Published in: on February 22, 2011 at 4:46 pm  Comments (13)  


Published in: on February 20, 2011 at 4:42 am  Leave a Comment  


The Rock has come back.

Damn.  I knew what was coming, but when his voice first broke through the black of the arena, I broke out in goosebumps.  Then I rewound and re-watched and re-goosebumped.  Again and again and again.  Then because I have a lot of emotions, I started tearing up at the crowd’s cheering and screaming and collective wetting of pants.

The man has. not. changed.  Dramatic flair fully intact.  His pauses still last as long as a shark’s pregnancy.  I used to sometimes get annoyed with him for taking so bloody long to Layeth the Smacketh Down, what with his The People’s Eyebrow…The People’s Elbow…The People’s… The Rock’s not my favourite wrestler, but I looked forward to his matches all the same, because he’s not wrong when he toots his “electrifying entertainer” horn.

I love this part of his speech:

There is one man who The Rock is gonna see.  There is one man who The Rock has to see face-to-face.  A guy who I met.  A guy who I thought was a cool guy.  Wished him well.  Happy for his success.  When The Rock leaves, he comes in.  And, out of the blue, eventually, he starts talkin’ trash about The Rock.  I don’t know why, and I don’t care.  But I’m back now.  You might’ve heard of him.  His name is John Cena.

*Cena fans chant CeNation CeNation CeNation…*

So let me get this straight.  The WWE.  Has gone from.  The powerful Austin 3:16.  To the dominant and iconic Can You Smell What The Rock is Cookin’? ALL the way to: You Can’t See Me…  You Can’t See Me…  You Can’t See… What are you playing, peek-a-boo?  You can’t see me…I can see you…you can’t…can you see me?

Oh believe me, we ALL can see you.  We ALL can see you.

A blindfolded, sleeping, stuck-in-the-basement Stevie Wonder can see your monkey-ass.  How the hell you think we can miss?  You come out here with your bright-ass purple shirt and before that your bright green shirt before that your bright orange shirt you run around here lookin’ like a big fat bowl of Fruity Pebbles!

John Cena, The Rock will see you at WrestleMania.

Laud the wrestler who puts hearts in my eyes and laugh at the wrestler who sent me into mourning for the days when WWE was still WWF?  Carry on, Rock, carry on.  Carry on taking as long as you want to complete your sentences and Layeth the Smacketh Down.

Right.  Stone Cold’s hosting the upcoming WWE Tough Enough, The Rock’s back and hosting the upcoming WrestleMania.  Looks like I’m going to be fitting wrestling into my schedule again.

Also, I’ve been waiting for April to arrive for quite a while now.  One reason, is my plan to get my grubby hands on an Austin 3:16 tee as a gift to myself for…uh…Easter?  Now I really need April to get with the programme and just get here already.  I also need to calm down…maybe.

Published in: on February 17, 2011 at 2:46 am  Comments (1)  

till death valley do us part

till death valley do us part

we’ll sit on trains with
frayed seats and rickety knees
listen to crackling joints
chug over miles of wooden tracks
through towns and cities and countries
over the clamour of our hearts
when we grow old, love,
I’m gonna be your vagabond

© hannah t

Published in: on February 14, 2011 at 5:45 pm  Comments (18)  

the tent is collapsing on us

the tent is collapsing on us

we wrote letters
pink ink on purple paper
tucked into floral envelopes
sealed with a sticker and a kiss
even though we sat
beside one another

we giggled
when he asked
are you sisters
said no
actions questioning answer

we talked about boys
a lot
made a pact
you’ll be my bridesmaid
and you’ll be mine

we still write
we’re still sisters
and once you nab a man
I’m coming over for stiletto practice

© hannah t


Instead of re-pitching our tent, we used our legs as poles.  We didn’t suffocate; that’s all that matters.

Published in: on February 14, 2011 at 5:43 pm  Comments (4)