Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Month: September 2020

  • Poem: Suggestions – 30/09/20

    Poem: Suggestions – 30/09/20

    I can attempt to suggest,
    not forcefully,
    but subtly,
    allowing another to view
    from a different perspective.

    To take into account
    other angles of a problem
    and what can be
    done to cure what is
    ailing them.

    If not, altered alleviation
    can be key
    to disallowing inner frustrations,
    potential travesty,
    but only if the other
    is open –
    I only wish to promote
    self-healing.

    Unlocking those doors,
    breaking down those walls,
    allowing assistance in,
    I’m more than willing to listen,
    but hark,
    let me explain another position,
    there’s more than one way
    to describe Life’s unwanted conditions.

    I can extend my care,
    I wish to be supportive
    and understand
    the stressors,
    have them heard,
    felt, shared,

    but in the end
    I hope we can find
    a positive direction,
    not end up with us
    travelling in an argumentative direction.

    It’s important,
    I hope it’s known,
    that I do want,
    wish to be here
    and attend,

    but together let’s
    work at solving
    the problem
    with positivity,
    we can make a change of that
    poorly dealt hand.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Everton Vila on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Doubt – 29/09/20

    Poem: Doubt – 29/09/20

    Doubt niggles at me,
    pokes and gently prods as though irritating me to
    look at it.
    To understand my imperfections,
    my soul’s tiredness at having to point out
    these flaws,
    why do I feel unworthy for the Universe?

    But it’s nothing to do with that,
    it has everything to do with my perception,
    the way I look up to appreciate the heavens,
    within my heart I can grasp its acceptance,
    so why can’t I apply the same small principles to myself?

    Doubt is an insipid disease which weaves its way
    not only through your bloodstream
    but inside your marrow.
    It can become a part of you.
    It can become lively within you,
    thriving on the seeds of self-doubt you’ve
    cast within you.

    Seeds down, spread for the next harvest,
    they promise wealth, abundance, safety, security,
    but what does my crop promise me when fruitful?
    The doubt, the doubt, the doubt,
    it encompasses me whole.

    I must learn to be more accepting of myself,
    turning what I view as negatives into positivity,
    healing,
    protagonist of my life am I,
    I need not remain at home lamenting,
    ultimate melancholy
    simply because every time I realise what
    my earthly home, my corporeal form has become,
    all I feel is quiet shame
    and then I need to be alone.

    I have allowed my growth to rise forth
    and to affect me
    in a negative manner,
    but isn’t the doubt what’s calling me to
    behave so unappreciative?
    I don’t mean it to be this way,
    won’t it rain, it rain, it rain?
    Under the cleansing clouds,
    I will exist,
    to feel their wondrous power.

    Physicality, it’s merely our lent forms
    which we occupy each day,
    best take advantage my time here of Earth
    because those passed seconds and minutes
    will never return again,
    they will never have the chance to be recovered.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Criativithy from Pexels

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  • Poem: Neither High Nor Low – 27/09/20

    Poem: Neither High Nor Low – 27/09/20

    Plateaued.
    Neither high nor low this time.
    Simply existing as I lie here,
    my mind blank,
    strangely it is not a feeling that perturbs
    or is out of place.

    It’s just that the noise has stopped,
    the odd chatter that weaved in and out,
    through my mind as though as a slithering snake
    has calmed itself
    and I am here,
    at one,
    with the quietness,
    the peace,
    the solitude.

    Even intruding noise pales in comparison
    to the stillness,
    I seem so far away from it,
    it’s as though there’s no link from my auditory
    path to it.

    Like I have wiped away that connection,
    I am dumbfounded in mind and soul,
    and it’s not something that needs deflecting from,
    for I am welcoming these sensations
    which lack in their own.

    Neither high nor low is my mood.
    I am not raging, I am not frustrated,
    I am not elated.
    No, no.

    I am presently a blank canvas,
    waiting for an artist like myself
    to splatter me with my own colours,
    my own schema,
    my own shades from my palette,
    and why, there are many,
    wouldn’t you know it?

    Though, there’s no need for any bright tones,
    there is beauty in the unfinished,
    the white rectangle I am present as
    is surprisingly perfect,
    a wanted moment,
    a feast for the eyes,
    for if I imagine my own scene,
    my own painting,
    I can alter myself,
    in a way of doing so,
    everything,
    I appreciate the freedom
    of the mental creation I can see and breathe.

    Neither high nor low
    is how I am,
    not rushing toward the finishing line,
    neither despairing because
    I have not reached it in time.

    I will create if I feel like it,
    but for now,
    a sudden newfound static in my head is
    utterly welcoming.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Andriyko Podilnyk on Unsplash

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  • Prose: Chirping Crickets – 26/09/20

    Prose: Chirping Crickets – 26/09/20

    Male crickets chirp, signalling their romantic calamity. They know what they are seeking, whom they are aiming to have come into their world. But crickets; crickets, crickets, don’t we downplay their communication, assigning a meaning of humorous silence following a moment intended to be poignant, profound, or carry some other feeling?

    I used to love crickets as a child. I would hunt them for hours on end, following the sounds until hopefully, in the brush, I would pounce with jar in hand and happen upon one, to keep all of my own. I fancied having a cricket as a pet would be a grand affair. Sadly, I only ever succeeded at once catching one. They were often far too perceptive at hearing my lumbering human body’s approach and would suddenly hush with their song, thereby quashing my ability to reign victorious as a Cricket-Owning Queen.

    It makes me wonder, who else decides to silence themselves in order to avoid any unwanted behaviour or conflict? Who backs down, seemingly cowardly initially, but inherently wise in the end? For the world, with its youth and ignorance, with its body of fiery enemies and desires and wants and needs, can be dangerous for any little crickets to exist in, this is truth from my mouth which begs to be heard, all well as vowels formed to be seen.

    I used to want to capture bees as well. They were so beautiful and busy and perfect, that I wanted my own, even if for an hour, then I would return it to the safety of its pollen-filled world. Capturing a busy, occupied bee proved far easier than locating and capturing a garden cricket. Still, sadness then washed over me as I realised what I was doing, what had I done? I had captured something so wonderful which was meant to remain free in its own way. With a smile and a few comforting words, I gently released my unintentional prey, my beautiful companion if only for a few minutes of that day.

    And I hear them calling me again, I hear the buzzing of their fervent collections, I hear the shrill calling of the dances I took with crickets who surely smiled in wonder at my persistence, and I smile to myself at my childhood curiosity, and at knowing that nothing that calm, serene Nature created should be altered, should be changed, should be taken away from the comfort of their own damn home – how would I like it if I were plucked from the comforts of my very own abode?

    But crickets chirping in my memory tell me there’s no finer point to be made, nor a softer point to be emphasised, just to live life in harmony with the world, and we will get along perfectly fine.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Krzysztof Niewolny on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Better – 25/09/20

    Poem: Better – 25/09/20

    The rain pitter-patters against the window
    reminding me of the melancholy I used to feel,
    but now I am developing myself,
    I am fusing myself together,
    redetermining self-worth.

    I need not chase the opinions high nor low
    of yonder words to come,
    need not seek the approval of critical strangers,
    or unkind people who I’m not close with,
    why, shouldn’t they matter little to none?

    I seek your approval, because I care for your thoughts,
    I seek the justice of your moments with me
    because I am true with you,
    together we become,
    but I shan’t allow my life to hinge
    on your thoughts of me anymore,
    because I am stronger,
    I believe in myself,
    more and more and more.

    It’s taken a while to reach this stage,
    I’m merely dipping my big toe in the water,
    who knows what there is to come,
    who knows what’s happily living under,
    what I will experience,
    who will I meet,
    on my journey,
    this life path indeed.

    I sit on the riverbank and wonder,
    why was I so needy,
    why was I so temperamental,
    why was I so melancholy,
    why was I so angry?

    Needing others’ affirmation, day in and day out,
    it was sickening,
    I look back on those years,
    no wonder I was not blooming.

    But now, my heart is open,
    at least its slowly opening up the shutters,
    letting in the smell of that beautiful rain
    pelting down,
    and I know,
    I know,
    that things will be better from now on,
    trust me,
    I tell myself.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash

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  • Poem: In-Between – 24/09/20

    Poem: In-Between – 24/09/20

    My land of In-Between is glorious,
    that space which cannot be defined,
    can’t be plotted,
    accurately located,
    yet it houses my wealth of memories,
    my heartfelt song,
    prose, poetry,
    the magic of my inner layers
    which are only conducive to goodness,
    kindness,
    and moral wealth.

    Imagine a cloud-speckled sky,
    with Sun gently winking,
    mischievousness in her eyes,
    a wooden chest appears,
    which glorious beings heave into view,
    its carvings elaborate –
    specifically made for me,
    long secreted away from you.

    For now, I will allow your eyes
    to fall upon this chest,
    after all, I have permitted you entry
    into my Land of In-between,
    Then and Now,
    I shall open it up with great nobility,
    the masterful moment of
    revelation feels truly amazing.

    But once the interior is viewable,
    inside there is nothing to see,
    at least for you,
    but for myself,
    a visible wealth of memories.

    The feelings, intense emotions which
    wash over,
    permeate my entire being
    are so utterly cleansing
    that I feel I’m experiencing them a second time,
    truly,
    wholly.

    With confusion, I see you glance away,
    you look hurt, cheated,
    as though I permanently masked from you
    my thoughts, memories, dreams,

    I call you ardently,
    but you seem intent on your desire to leave.

    I cannot please everyone,
    I’ve been struggling and striving to do
    this for so long,
    no longer will I lose who I am
    because some can’t accept me,
    I am myself,
    and that surely must be enough.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Diego PH on Unsplash

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  • Poem: The Good Fight – 23/09/20

    Poem: The Good Fight – 23/09/20

    You have it within you.
    The ability to push through,
    with determination,
    with resolve,
    with power,
    without the assistance of another.

    You can do it, brother, sister,
    you can achieve these goals.
    You can achieve your goals,
    even with extenuating circumstances,
    don’t you know?

    Though sadness, lack of resolve,
    impatience may linger,
    cast these aside, because, you know,
    they are of an indelicate picture,
    instead fulfil yourself with the richness of
    scarlet reds,
    of peacock and cobalt blues,
    ceruleans,
    crimson,
    yellow, yellow,
    bright sunshine to view.

    Embrace the moment when your mind says,
    “I have had enough”
    of this negativity, which not only swarmed,
    but threatened to cause you to leave,
    the perpetual darkness that was present,
    looming yet sinister and dormant within your soul.
    Those parts of you which you do not
    show, and neither speak of,
    it’s not time to be gawked at,
    stared at,
    it is instead time to achieve and heal.

    And heal you may,
    you will,
    you’ll achieve so much because I know
    you’re going to put your mind to it
    and your heart and soul in it,
    and soon enough,
    in the blink of an eye,
    I’ll see your name in lights,
    and the fluttering butterflies in my belly
    will keep soaring,
    they last only three days,
    but damn, let them make the most of it.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Justin DoCanto on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Effervescent Eyes – 22/09/20

    Poem: Effervescent Eyes – 22/09/20

    We’re walking through the streets,
    hand in hand we stop to take a sip of our drinks,
    smiling,
    laughing,
    we have so much to share,
    so much happiness to spread,
    we’re like deviants of the light,
    spreading joy with all our might.

    Trailing behind are the remnants of ill feeling,
    we’d cast them aside long before,
    the lingering feeling of discontentment is still present,
    but we’re forgetting,
    our argument, we are carefully clearing.

    Our souls bond with sparks,
    like the melding of metal to metal,
    and wood to fire we catch the heat of our
    loving concern and care,

    we are a rich source of oxygen-thieving and warmth,
    positive feelings,
    we will always have a link, a tie,
    no matter the circumstances,
    no matter whether we pull apart because
    one or the other needs some form of personal healing.

    Our sodas are light and sparkling
    just like our eyes,
    effervescent like the youth still in our maturing tides,
    as we grow together, we learn from each other,
    friendship, strength, a bond
    that may not always be stable
    but still retains the strength
    like reinforced walls,
    and we sip and sip,
    laughing to ourselves.

    Onward, onward,
    homeward bound.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

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  • Poem: An Awakening – 21/09/20

    Poem: An Awakening – 21/09/20

    The ambient music is comforting,
    soothing unto my soul,
    it makes me rise along with it,
    and when the melody sinks with satisfaction,
    my heartbeat ebbs,
    it flows.

    I relish these special times I have
    to appreciate the music in my abode,
    where I am left quietly,
    contemplatively,
    to myself.

    No noisy interruptions,
    no untoward commotions,
    just me and my heart beating,
    eyes brightened,
    with joy, oh, such joy.

    I’ve never felt so serene,
    and I’m doing this simply as I please,
    I am at ease,
    I am relaxed,
    it’s so nice to not feel the agitation and anger,
    disquieting at that.

    The internal cacophonies have finally ceased,
    there are no danger zones left for me
    to navigate, even if I pleased,
    for inside, I am calm,
    it has taken me so long,
    to come to terms with the
    noisiness that was hurting
    my soul.

    Why was I unsettled?
    Why such internal rage and anger?
    The self-hatred,
    the lashing out at others,
    feeling dissatisfaction with my life:
    it seemed a permanent fixture.

    But now, now,
    I feel both motivated and at peace,
    at finally truly making something of myself,
    my life,
    the times I ardently strove for success had seemed
    so far in the past
    that replication never seemed something I could dream of,
    reach for,
    or could personally seek.

    Now, now,
    I am stronger,
    and I feel the serenity sink into my muscles,
    into my bones,
    and make itself at home,
    I am finally at peace,
    and there is no need to feel anything less
    than – within my skin –
    perfectly at home.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Saad Chaudhry on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Mediating My Life – 20/09/20

    Poem: Mediating My Life – 20/09/20

    Rosemary oil swiped either side of the doorway,
    and below the walkway, where I will enter into my abode.
    Rosemary oil, so glorious is the scent,
    wiped below the lip of my desk,
    to harness, relax, caress.

    I am embracing the softer side of life,
    scent,
    meditation,
    heeding surfacing dreams,
    taking care of my body,
    operating holistically.

    After being so hard in my thoughts,
    so obstinate in being unchangeable and closed-minded
    to things I was unfamiliar with,
    I am finally open to the healing permitted in this world,
    different types of blessings.

    It may seem like a small step to others,
    nothing really worth mentioning,
    but for me,
    it’s like addressing an inner power that allows me
    to finally embrace what I’ve been missing.

    And the amazing thing is,
    I can already feel the differences,
    the self-improvements,
    the happier state of mind,
    the positivity beginning to trickle then flow.

    No hardened soul to be envisaged anymore,
    there is no need to fight to struggle against
    my negative capabilities,
    I will relish the healing,
    I will cherish the process,
    and I will fall in love with the self-knowledge I am gleaning,
    the knowing.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash

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