Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Author: Lauren M. Hancock

  • Poem: Waltz – 20/07/21

    Poem: Waltz – 20/07/21

    Our feet together,
    they step in time,
    gentle footsteps,
    intertwine,
    yielding memories,
    forthcoming hope,
    endangered circumstance,
    thoughts, hearts, pump, grow.

    I know the understanding I have is
    too right,
    that the assertions made shall
    linger into the night,
    hands held,
    palm to palm,
    they know,
    intuitively speaking,
    they meld,
    we meld,
    complex love disarms,
    its truths it is singing.

    We are not borne of wind
    nor shore,
    we do not trail the sand of
    distant moors,
    we enlist the capacity of a
    united front,
    our waltz is independent of others,
    desperate need will not depart.

    So, I cling to you,
    and you latch onto me,
    holding us together,
    our pieces join so lovingly,
    there is little to say further
    on the matter,
    the county knows our hearts’ patterns
    by now,
    we are wild circumstance and longing,
    our youthful love
    steals the show.

    So, quieten down now,
    these wild-footed, sweeping beats,
    gentle taps now,
    our sweet soft melody,
    our beat, our rhythm,
    our precious time,
    taken in as our developmental style,
    we shall remain together,
    despite all paraded before us,
    protests spoken all the while,
    our bond is special,
    it reassures us.

    Who knew we’d be present, together,
    after all this time?
    Ached through much,
    years of frenzied dance,
    yet remaining palm to palm,
    an intricate understanding,
    a gentle touch,
    our voices now,
    we sing in rich key,
    beautiful duet —
    an honourable melody.

    Richness of understanding,
    how well you know me,
    our interactions are made with
    the smoothest of ease,
    our version of love blossoms,
    like wildflowers, it grows with speed,
    some don’t understand us,
    but we’ve nothing to prove,
    it’s our land,
    our world of in-between,
    that we inhabit and waltz through
    with joy, so freely.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Andrew from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Battlefield’ – 20/07/21

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  • Poem: Battlefield – 19/07/21

    Poem: Battlefield – 19/07/21

    As I sit in my rocking chair
    I ponder to myself,
    what is there to contemplate or even know,
    how should I proceed in life,
    these stumbling blocks keep coming,
    they are rife,
    and they trash my days and hours,
    slitting them open like warm butter
    attacked with a knife.

    Eyes within, they glower,
    witnesses who think they know me more than me,
    so much better,
    they glance upon with mediocrity in their eyes,
    pity begins to flower.

    I cannot help myself,
    despairing feelings overwhelm,
    they irritate and sadden me all
    at the same time,
    emotions coagulate,
    they brew inside of me,
    whilst the others watch on freely,
    I’m ashamed in this moment
    to be such a sensitive entity.

    Because usually, generally,
    I am adamant,
    I do not let damp sadness get the
    better of me,
    and yet
    here I am,
    looking out upon myself,
    like a sad sack of sand on the pavement,
    where is my power,
    my strident ability to rise above
    this ailment?

    Still, I sit,
    rock and rock away,
    mechanically, forward and back,
    whiling away the day,
    and eventually, the aches and groans internally
    might fade away,
    there’s no room for brightness but
    at least the clouds have maybe cleared
    for the day.

    And perhaps this is all a mere moment which will
    pass away,
    the gloom will leave this room,
    this mental space, cavity, prison, I’ve assumed,
    soon I will take the reins
    and ride forward, tossing my mane here and there,
    astride will I ride into battle
    without a single care.

    And then I will pre-empt the almighty force
    that beckons and crawls to me
    making me feel so unassured,
    I will become belligerent toward the pain,
    I will hunt it down,
    I will triumph above,
    sadness squeals in vain,
    how about that,
    I tell the witnesses,
    as I dismount my beast,
    evermore the battlefields with my
    courage and valiant honour
    are stained,
    I have allowed them to see
    the true me.
     
    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Away Without Leave’ – 18/07/21

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  • Poem: Away Without Leave – 18/07/21

    Poem: Away Without Leave – 18/07/21

    I am currently away without leave,
    taken steps to walk from progress
    so I can be there, to care
    for the ones I used to revolt against,
    those who love me with every inch
    no matter past sadness,
    but pray tell I do digress,
    I need to be here,
    not unavailable, but present,
    my presence used to be far, far less.

    I have relearned the role of
    family amid this chaos,
    upsets, Life’s bad news,
    over years together when my
    desire to stay home faltered,
    when I needed to be
    belligerent to others,
    now those days have all but
    faded away,
    love grown and nurtured,
    here I am,
    I will stay,
    give back
    for it’s the least
    I can do,
    promise their needs will be
    attended to,
    it’s not about my former
    wreckages now.

    Gently, I will lace the new
    understanding of family
    and closeness and inherent need
    and trust,
    being here, breathing there,
    even in silence
    company is a must,
    spread my opening wings around
    their hearts,
    stop the chance of bruising
    through my chrysalis,
    boy, am I wondering
    will this ever be enough,
    as repayment?
    This tender notion of love versus love.

    I am away without leave,
    I have taken the time,
    a step away from requirements,
    daily life now starts to sway,
    we are in our vortex where
    time learns to stand still,
    and we can appreciate one another’s
    company again,
    adoringly drink our fill.
    For, time is fleeting,
    Life seems to know that drill.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Terri Cnudde from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Seasonal Affective’ – 17/07/21

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  • Poem: Seasonal Affective – 17/07/21

    Poem: Seasonal Affective – 17/07/21

    Today’s been a struggle
    I must openly admit,
    not feeling seasonal affective,
    but rather seasonally dejected,
    my mind, it swims with sadness,
    amiss is my prowess, my brightness gone,
    my ability to deal with
    rejection or silence
    when reaching forth to others
    with smiles or hopeful song.

    I know the root cause,
    the depletion of my nightly dose,
    and also the lacking of ample sleep
    which my body and mind are
    craving the most,
    my ability to combat little things,
    my lacking in ability to cope,
    why can’t I be like others,
    or simply possess the usual
    resilience of myself?

    I know I must sleep,
    I know I must practice self-care,
    but how can I lay my head
    down to rest
    when I am unable to
    stop my mind ticking,
    from working in a manner where
    every ounce of energy is sapped?

    My energy stores refuse to replenish themselves,
    I should knock myself on the head,
    and tell myself
    enough is enough,
    you need the former amount,
    don’t be stubborn,
    reinstate your medication dose!

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels

    Previous Post: Sunshine Blogger Award! – 16/07/21

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  • Sunshine Blogger Award! – 16/07/21

    Sunshine Blogger Award! – 16/07/21

    Lovely Grace of Grace of the Sun recently nominated me for the Sunshine Blogger Award, and I thank her kindly for her wonderful nomination. This is the second blogger award she’s put me forth for, and I am so grateful for this. The Sunshine Blogger Award is an award shared by bloggers to other bloggers who help spread creativity and positivity! Grace’s work covers many topics and has many bright, positive and thoughtful facets to the content she shares with us all daily. On her blog, she shares her point of view, and what brings her joy. Please check out her page Grace of the Sun to experience her positivity, joy and sparkle today.

    Rules:

    • Thank the blogger who nominated you and link back to their blog.
    • Answer the 11 questions sent by the person who nominated you.
    • Nominate 11 new bloggers to receive the award and write them 11 new questions.
    • List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo in your post and/or your blog.

    Grace’s Questions

    1. What is your proudest accomplishment?
      Self-publishing my first book. One of my childhood dreams was to be a children’s book author.  
    2. What makes you laugh the most?
      Speaking with and joking around with friends makes me laugh; making witty remarks with them also.
    3. If you met you, would you want to be your friend and why?
      I would want to be my friend because I am open and welcoming, and I feel I have a brightness about my personality.
    4. What do you like most about yourself?
      I like that I am creative, and thoughtful and caring, especially toward the people close to me.
    5. If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?
      Pancit, a Filipino rice noodle dish! It is absolutely delicious, and my auntie makes it wonderfully.
    6. If you can be anyone else in the world, who would you be or would you be yourself?
      Even though we can admire another’s life from afar, we do not know the inner workings of their world and mind. Thus, it is difficult to answer if I would like to be someone else. I only inherently know about my life, so I would remain as I am and be myself.
    7. Who is your hero?
      A hero of mine would be my mother. She has been through a lot, especially health-wise as of late, and she always has a positive attitude and resilience about her.
    8. What motivates you most?
      The idea of being heard and understood.
    9. What did you want to be when you were small?
      A children’s book author and in an orchestra.
    10. If you could choose to do anything for a day, what would it be?
      Drink coffee and lounge all day at a dog café that has friendly pooches who will want pats and want to play!
    11. Would you say you are resentful or can you let go of things easily?
      Depending on the circumstance, I can be resentful, but I am learning to be more forgiving and let go of things. Learning to do this does take time.

      These are the questions for my nominees:
    1. How do you deal with regretful situations?
    2. What is a joyous moment for you?
    3. When you’re inspired to write, is it in a frenzy or a controlled manner, how do the words flow onto the page?
    4. What is the most important object in your life, and what significance does it hold for you?
    5. Are you a coffee or a tea person?
    6. What would be your ideal way to enjoy a Sunday?
    7. Name one hobby that you enjoy and why.
    8. Share a treasured memory of yours?
    9. Name a favourite song of yours from a musical.
    10. Would you consider yourself an extrovert or introvert?
    11. And does this affect the way you write for your blog?

    My NOMINEES :

    Previous Post: ‘Be Prepared, Be Prepared’ – 16/07/21
    Previous Post: ‘Adorn’ – 14/07/21
    Previous Post: ‘The Flea Market Contraption’ – 15/07/21

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  • Prose: Be Prepared, Be Prepared – 16/05/21

    Prose: Be Prepared, Be Prepared – 16/05/21


    I am here, present in this second, this moment, my attitude is hell-bent on being successful, not necessarily as others deem or know it. My cause lies in the unknown, in the process of my soul becoming freer, more known, the enlightening of processing my intention – allow us some cloudy ascension. Spiritual connections; my repeating voice drones.

    I am available for unlimited knowledge to permeate through my being, much like a sizzling wavelength enveloping me. I know, oh, how I know, that while my heart, long before, has been ravaged, and bittersweet were those partings, with each return I felt anew, but why is it something which needs to be revisited? In lieu of my life manager, I feel a part of, knowing what’s available, I can come here and load thoughts and dreams into an embryo, in the ‘warehouse’, yes, the future of tomorrow.

    And here the little being will grow and flourish and shine, blossom into a wild, untamed belly-bound youth with flowing girlish hair, similar to mine. We know not of her sex, of his intellect, or their preference, but certainly the moment we lay eyes on our precious creation, we will know, we will know, time spent admiring is ultimately well spent.

    Do not cancel out the possibility that the child may secretly morph into a book, words to be enjoyed, permitting a second look, or rather could their eyes be the depths of the world, a place to find the perfect alibi, covering answers all around? Perhaps she’ll just be herself, or he will play at the creek, with sticks and palettes of makeup, or in the mud, to one side lies our careful yet admiring eyes, stare, blink, repeat.

    And I now shake myself from your mind, stare into your amazing being, it’s the tremendous one-year anniversary, what more celebration could you provide, more than always being there for all of us, for Father, the boys, and I? Our wondrous life, blessed indeed. Together, we shall fly.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Artwork by myself.

    Previous Post: ‘The Flea Market Contraption’ – 15/07/21

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  • Poem: The Flea Market Contraption – 15/07/21

    Poem: The Flea Market Contraption – 15/07/21

    The flea market presents –
    options – one-of-a-kinds,
    and rip-off pieces,
    poor imitations,
    badly woven threads,
    lurid patterns,
    blatant patent breaches seen,
    and the imaginary,
    the ingenuity,
    and the copies of a land
    in between.

    I peruse the stalls,
    pace back and forth,
    my timid tippy-toes,
    they don’t guide me,
    they don’t lead me,
    I’m unsure of what to
    sample in this flea market
    land I’m in.

    Some ideas are magical,
    well-presented products,
    smartly dressed merchants
    in hide-away stalls,
    others are horrid,
    they hurt my eyes,
    these products, rubbish,
    unworthy of meeting
    hands or eyes.

    Amongst the trash and beauty,
    objects I see,
    I spot a contraption that
    might be for me.
    It is the making of
    cloudy billowy dreams,
    sanctified, certified?
    No, but perfect for I.

    It promises to churn through
    all my ideas,
    promises to rid me of
    encumbering fears
    and will lay away
    any confronting questions
    thrown my way,
    it will replenish my mind
    for many days.

    A mind-clearer,
    a dream-recycler,
    a precious gatherer
    of many mental pictures,
    the imagery within,
    perhaps barely initially seen,
    unclouded, decoded,
    all work done,
    prepared for me!

    But then I wonder
    is this not like a disease?
    Something which eats away,
    erodes at my dreams?
    Erasing me in ways
    I dare not speak,
    by bluntly, superficially
    simplifying me?

    And I cannot have this,
    I must remain complex,
    hard to delve into,
    thoughts difficult to be met,
    and so away with
    this idea,
    this contraption for me,

    I’d rather be convoluted,
    a puzzle unsolved,
    until I’m ready to make
    the pieces fly free.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by aytuguluturk from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Adorn’ – 14/07/21

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  • Poem: Adorn – 14/07/21

    Poem: Adorn – 14/07/21

    Toss the book aside,
    the one with all the rules,
    adorn thyself with personal care,
    self-love,
    amalgamate the zones
    around the heart and mind,
    Complicated? Yes.
    Internal battle,
    discoveries,
    what a sheer delight.

    Perhaps I can learn
    how to rise,
    to gather wind,
    a magical,
    momentous Me,
     
    for,
    I now have direction,
    I have purpose,
    it’s taken some years,
    dragged ten behind, in fact,
    maturity intact
    yet preserved as immaturity,
    I now realise the purpose of
    the lock on my documents,
    the purposeful silence in keeping
    me from me.

    Until now.

    I sing into
    the skies,
    shriek with delight,
    stroke my tones,
    words real and imaginary,
    so right,
    I’ve been looked after by an Almighty,
    my future seems bright.

    Akimbo was I,
    but no longer unsteady,  
    evermore will I
    emit my triumphant confessions,
    my elegies
    and head on toward
    the horizon,
    I’m sure it’s amazing,
    what’s waiting for me.

    I will reach certain peaks
    with hard work,
    it’s all up to destiny?

    No, sweet darling,
    it’s all up to me.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Precious Penny’ – 14/07/21

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  • Poem: Precious Penny – 14/07/21

    Poem: Precious Penny – 14/07/21

    And here we are,
    oysters, with caressing shells,
    guarding our precious cargo,
    treasures which bloomed,
    prized is our interior,
    luminescent, pearlescent factors,
    created by us,
    we are magicians,
    view our splendour,
    sorcery,
    shall we slay the mirror?

    For, creation,
    this semblance of wonder
    in our lives,
    the more I enter my
    inner being, the more
    I find my, our
    potential utterly amazing,
    to have created something
    from barely anything,
    such beauty,
    astounding.

    While pink is mine,
    yours is blue,
    together we ballooned
    with satisfaction and bliss,

    off the beaten track,
    lean in for a kiss,
    the farmer reaches in
    and wrenches Little She from me,

    and now, darling,
    bereft I am,
    so empty,
    they have taken away my precious penny,
    but it was meant to be this way.
    I create, they harvest,
    I am forlorn,
    used,
    but truly, before the thieving,
    I’m always treated like their princess.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Schäferle from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Especially Now’ – 13/07/21

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  • Poem: Especially Now – 13/07/21

    Poem: Especially Now – 13/07/21

    Bright pink like the heated
    breath of dawn,
    little extracted curled
    sleepy tongue.
    Interest’s sake,
    keep her warm,
    I want to breathe fire,
    what an urge,

    do not drag thy feet,
    this isn’t a dirge,
    but rather, a celebration,
    of family,
    love,
    good humour,
    ask about our existence
    and I’ll say:
    Preserve us with a picture!

    Lean forward with interest,
    extrovert takes over the show,
    but darling, it’s not about you,
    it’s about us five,
    and she, lovingly attended to.

    I’ll breathe in her scent,
    it is locked in her scarf and beanie,
    an olfactory reminder to be experienced,
    recalled soon,
    or retrieved hastily,
    should there be need,
    to be seen,
    comforting reminder,
    I think I may have need.

    For now, though,
    we are gathered here today,
    loosely, casually,
    then tightly reunited,
    accepting these precious moments,
    wouldn’t you know it –
    chicken soup is good
    for the family and soul,
    but the company,
    company means everything,
    especially now.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Falsetto’ – 12/07/21

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