Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Month: September 2021

  • Poem: Living in the Moment – 29/09/21

    Poem: Living in the Moment – 29/09/21

    To truly live in the moment,
    to take stock and simply breathe,
    enrich yourself in the present,
    feeling, being, see,
    understanding that being in the current,
    the here and now,
    to appreciate,
    that which is all around us,
    enough to encapsulate ourselves as of late.
    Knowing ourselves more and more
    which comes with time and growing sense of selves,
    being able to search our experiences and
    know what to seek out,
    to be happy with our discoveries,
    and not need to further delve,
    to be accomplished in our journeys,
    the ability to breathe within and exhale,
    to rid ourselves of stress and pain,
    relieving, an inner peace,
    something which will one day come with ease,
    time will surely tell.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Healing As One: 26/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Healing as One – 26/09/21

    Poem: Healing as One – 26/09/21

    Speaking my truths,
    remaining adamant, though no longer nail and tooth,
    calm and personable,
    gone are those moods, deplorable,
    able to deal with behaviours that are not necessarily toward,
    becoming more knowing each moment,
    calamities? No more, no more.

    I don’t deal with belligerence,
    I operate with positivity and light,
    ill feelings once needing combating,
    these are not my plight,
    I have cast aside the worries,
    won’t take on any if not for good,
    soaring with triumph and knowledge,
    I know how to be,
    what to do.

    It’s as though pieces have fallen right there,
    into place,
    the Universe doesn’t need to call me with haste,
    for I am here and now,
    in this very moment,
    becoming,
    I’ve become,
    I don’t need to fight to be heard,
    and I know I won’t again come undone.

    Stability within me,
    courses through fingers, veins, thumbs.
    Existing, breathing in and exhaling slowly,
    I am finally as one.
    It’s like I have reached a personal understanding,
    I’ve turned that private key,
    unlocked my fierce momentum and made it ease,
    found a quieter place deep inside of me.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Strong – 24/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Prose: Strong – 24/09/21

    Prose: Strong – 24/09/21

    Sometimes we need to step back and take scope of what will work for us and won’t.
    What boundaries we need to set, what levels can be achieved, what is ‘yes’ for us, and ‘no, just don’t’.
    I guess it comes with being older, and stronger and more confident in oneself, because in years past, we may have been weaker perhaps in resolve, and bending to pressure seemed the only way to cope.

    It takes maturity to stand one’s ground and tell another that ‘I will or won’t’, and not be swayed by expectation, or the fear of some social construct becoming an annihilation, if you don’t conform to wills and wants. Sometimes it’s wiser to bear the brunt. Stand your ground. And listen to the anger, or the frustrations that may snow us under, if only for the experience, the personal pleasure, of knowing that you are holding your resolve together, that doing so means you have become something more, resolute, and have spoken your truths. Engagement is laid into place, paving the way for more adult discussion, not childish coercion, like times that may have gone –  unlike during those occasions, you have learned, you are learning, to right the old efforts into sometime more wrought, more rung. More like you. Strong.   
     
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Not Worth The Upsets – 21/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Not Worth The Upsets – 21/09/21

    Poem: Not Worth The Upsets – 21/09/21

    Deliver me from the evils that await at the hands of certain beings,
    an understanding that what they project in life is the pain they’ve already been suffering,
    or a notion that the signs they exhibit are the nastiness wrought within their souls,
    perhaps they’ve been hurt already, perhaps they just have a cruel heart,
    perhaps we won’t know at all.

    But the missing pieces of the puzzle won’t inextricably fall into place,
    in fact, they might fall by the wayside under their devil’s sweeping cape,
    little minds who wish to play games may think theirs are engorged,
    but let me tell you this, dear friends,
    I believe bullying behaviour is extremely untoward.

    It’s as though they want to ruin another for their sheer pleasure,
    a wreaking of revenge because an ego became snowed under,
    I am the process, I am the deliverer,
    I will not allow myself from useless words to suffer.

    Stronger than the poison that seeps from veins,
    a fighter within,
    I shall never emit to them the words ‘je t’aime’,
    unworthy of my belligerence,
    untimely expulsions from my spirit,
    my perturbed soul,
    now I know,
    they weren’t worth the upsets at all.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Image source

    Previous Post: Obsidian – 19/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Obsidian – 19/09/21

    Poem: Obsidian – 19/09/21

    I look to the sky with haste,
    why has thou forsaken me,
    in my time of need?
    Every inch of me screams to be heard,
    every centimetre to be held close.
    The raw aching state of my soft flesh cuts into my plans,
    wreaking havoc on a once-perfectly addled mind,
    states of being which soared with creativity,
    more and more, until even I couldn’t believe
    what avant-garde moments were coming
    from me.
    I call and call without triumph,
    your name and understanding I beg for,
    but there is none,
    only self-serving fervour and tirades,
    enough of them,
    your silence speaks more than I could ask for.
    Deliverance, none is forthcoming,
    what is there to hope for when
    some simply want to annihilate that which is
    all around them,
    a petty call for fury,
    a disagreeable despot,
    despicable I shall call actions,
    but isn’t it enough to hold certain hands,
    mine is now I don’t care at all to be
    possessed by them.
    Too much inertia to be absorbed,
    belligerence and insolence
    developing,
    swelling,
    with ease,
    I discard ill feelings
    from the lot of them.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Deliberate Change – 17/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Deliberate Change – 17/09/21

    Poem: Deliberate Change – 17/09/21

    reduction of meds
    equals reduction of stability
    you’re questioned whether what you’re doing
    is right for you
    but I know it’s important to get this poison
    out of my system
    to slowly cleanse myself of it
    it’s been soaking my mind
    tainting my equilibrium.
    it can’t be healthy to be on high doses
    for years and years –
    when you are struggling the most,
    perhaps it’s important
    to have these as bandages
    to cotton wool my mind
    with white fluffy woollen balls
    but I need the reality
    of living without so much chemical restraint
    I’m just taking matters into my own hands
    it’s only weeks that I am not going to wait.
    the edginess in reduction is the worst part
    the raw red feeling
    of being scraped against a
    venomous spiked ceiling
    being dragged upside down
    feeling discomfort,
    exhaustion to the highest degree
    this dose has been with me for years
    I’m getting rid of it perhaps a little too fast,
    deplete it from me,
    just damned well leave my system,
    let me breathe.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: River of Consciousness – 15/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Prose: River of Consciousness – 15/09/21

    Prose: River of Consciousness – 15/09/21

    I feel the river of consciousness flowing, the flow of ethereal joy growing, and the prism of light shine and increase within me, a quiet sense of knowing. Knowledge that life will continue to improve, it is with focus and intent that I’m aware I’ll keep this view, with positivity, an ample amount, enough to dampen any sense of fear or doubt, in myself I have trust and the knowledge that to myself and close others, I will be able to remain devout. There can be occasions when I wonder, have I strayed from the righteous path, was there something awry I performed, or have I mistrusted, an inability to inadequately and naively discern, when really I should have upped and away without a goodbye, from past experiences, perhaps still never having learnt. And the truth of the matter is that often there are circumstances which call for the separation of one from another, without occasion, without proper rhyme or explained reason, for the state of the spirit, it is required to be done, to be gone away from them, without a single word. Their hearts, once appearing warm, have turned cruel and unkind, perhaps self-serving, in a short time. Others, certain types, will be afforded soft explanations, but these may be few and far in between, sometimes nothing is warranted but a deft ascension. A momentous breaking, of a declared separation, of something that turned out to be a farcical and unwarranted, something only aiding a certain type of them. And now, as I listen to quiet flow, of gentle meditations, I know that everything will be fine, for I am allowing this to be so, in subtle time. The tick-ticking of the two room clocks no longer perturbs, but sets a gentle precedence for one another, incorrect in a way, but right in a type of odd style. As though falling into each other, meant to be there for every second for one another, endless, ongoing, with stoic fervour. Isn’t it nice when we are here for one another? A calming click-click, as the seconds tick unevenly with the softened music within my ears makes me calm, flow with the river as I speak from my spirit within, rolling out with words to speak, not with anger, not with a din, with a wave upon wave of undulating rings.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Soulful Sky-Blue – 14/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Soulful Sky-Blue – 14/09/21

    Poem: Soulful Sky-Blue – 14/09/21

    The colour of his soul is sky-blue,
    visceral, with tinges of mottled red.
    I view him from an angle of security,
    I know more of him than others have dared to have said or can see.
    For there is more beneath the surface
    of his scruffy-haired expressions, soft words, gentle whimsical looks,
    I know more of him than many could ever ascertain,
    I know so much more, of truth’s revelation I feel I have to refrain,
    to not heed nor allow another intrinsic, curious look.

    I know of him intimately, referencing not the physical sense, no,
    but more in the manner of what his spirit longs for,
    the tunes of his heart and soul,
    the innate values disguised beneath a metamorphic
    view of kaleidoscopic arrangement,
    the colour scheme as bright as day,
    as least to me,
    this is what I’ll dare say.

    To the public, he is but a member of society
    who skulks about with the most nondescript of ease,
    but to me, I know the internal rhythmics of his energies,
    and deep within, I know there is something to treasure,
    something which needs the space to breathe.
    A reasoning, a soft-hued timbre, a melody of parched sorts
    calling for just that little bit of extra personal energy,
    a tending to, like a sunflower that struggles with his innate ability
    to rise forth, just needing some encouragement,
    I would guide if I felt it right, if this were meant to be.

    But somehow, maybe that path has been long-trodden,
    and feelings surfaced should really, perhaps, be forgotten,
    I do not know whether nurturing something lost
    that’s resurfacing should be nursed back to life again,
    but all I know, I know, is his soul is sky-blue,
    the sky-blue of an innocent heaven.
    Shall I dance and delve into this shade again?

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Wanderer – 12/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Wanderer – 12/09/21

    Poem: Wanderer – 12/09/21

    Open arms found in this wide world of mine,
    delicately and excitedly they’ve welcomed me in.
    I’m thankful for the support, friendship, and more,
    each morning or evening, my comrades’ words I can explore.
    Their thoughts, laid upon the screen, bright, blinking,
    I take them in,
    ascertaining deeper meaning, truth-seeking,
    prisms of depth and reasoning,
    wondrous intentions blossoming.

    There may be others lurking with disinterest,
    or malice planned, or already committed,
    but these types of soldiers are unworthy of connection,
    for loving souls, I am already surrounded by them,
    they lift me up, they carry me with strong arms,
    watch over with careful eyes,
    speak with wise words,
    and tumbling aside from the noises,
    the unwanted sounds all around,
    until I am away with my party of many,
    wondrous precious crowd,
    only positivity is allowed.  

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Thy Inner Truths – 11/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Thy Inner Truths – 11/09/21

    Poem: Thy Inner Truths – 11/09/21

    Awakening thy inner truths,
    beauty present,
    spiritual proof,
    the internal reservoirs of light,
    make infinite truth anything but a plight.

    Causes within and visions yours,
    counteract the substance of irrelevant facts,
    cast forth through the shrouded clouds,
    airy mysteries,
    intelligence, wonder, determining that which
    we seek.

    What is before my very eyes
    is circumstance, crimson red,
    but unfaltering yet,
    a bold vivid view for my heart
    to contemplate upon,
    run from the pastels, into the beat
    of another’s drum.

    And here will the rhythmic data align,
    linear,
    rich cobalt, emeralds too,
    enriched with understanding of linked truths,
    brighten the mindset, for I know what to do.

    I shall not carry on with anything but
    positive intent,
    bringing down the deceit and decimation
    disingenuous song spent,
    for deep inside I hear a calling,
    the sparkling of my morning,
    a yearning, a hoping,
    a certain reverent knowing.

    Trust not the tide of others’ wisdoms
    but find that of your own,
    I have searched high and low and I’m still
    learning how to trust, and love,
    and when push comes to an
    irreverent shove,
    and a playful side is shown,
    I will counteract that airy, floaty substance with
    something more like my own.

    My spirit, it will shine,
    it will take on the strength of truths imbued,
    I will be able to be read like a book,
    but in terms of knowledge, it is a wanted view.
    I know that delving into one’s psyche
    is not always preferable for him, nor she,
    whomever these people prove to be,

    but, I dare to explore,
    I dare to unwind,
    the visions, the moments,
    the arcs and spikes in my mind,
    until I become better in myself,
    analysis, truth be told,
    is better with maturity,
    one of the perks of growing old.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Particular Reason – 11/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home