Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose
winding worlds, sharpened words, and vibrant art
Instability, a grumbling temperament grows, like rolling waves crashing on suicidal rocks, the aftermath is broken froth, a bubbling foam of doom. But there is no true destruction yet, the cascading curling of blue promised a cushioned fall, one where anger and misjudgement could press or roll away those points of migraines elsewhere. [...]
“It is decidedly so,” her mother speaks, she smiles with warmth in her tone. A kind welcome is assured, the woman’s feelings strong, heartfelt, well grown. The kingdom has gathered to witness and bless this young babe, her cooing and calling for Mother draw attention and affection her way. While a wild gust of [...]
Autumn leaves fall one by one, excusing themselves from attendance. Like warm emotions they peel away, leaving an unfamiliar, unfeeling circumstance. Soon the branches will be barren, stark, undecorated, alone, with no reminder of spring or summer, when heartfelt words were purred, within another’s arms feelings were grown. How differently a season can [...]
Rivulets of broken seams, the crackling of irritation heaves and gleams, beneath a thin surface a heated secret boils it festers, does she wish to be anything other than what and how her impatient heart can muster? There’s no calm in the desert creek where parched tongues refused to get along the sandpaper-like exterior [...]
It’s three in the afternoon, my tummy begins to grumble! Time for a snack, what’s on the menu? Possible thoughts are tossed and tumbled. A muesli bar? A chocolate slice? Caramel latte or a tea? My stomach further grumbles: rejection! It seems these treats are not for me. I open the fridge, peruse [...]
the air is icy, precipitation, crackles, I am amazed by the ongoing incoherence of the patterns of snowflake icicles. harder becomes the dark night air with every accumulated breath, they gather, layer, through them I soon cannot stare. the walls surrounding me are now thicker than an Eskimo’s igloo, the protection is not [...]
Distortion fills my ears, the drums, the drums, a cacophony winds its way through, auditory bombs. I can feel the sound of livelihood dripping from my ears, these precious orifices, here, there is so much to grin and bear. Shell-shocked by the decibels, I know that others enjoy their cause, tainted sound waves, [...]
