Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Category: Uncategorized

  • Poem: Curled – 03/07/21

    Poem: Curled – 03/07/21

    I lay myself away
    to sleep,
    rug myself up,
    curled,
    not a single peep,
    and rock, rock as though
    I’m in need of solace myself
    for it’s not often
    in my world I feel
    the need to cry out
    for help.

    Yet tonight seems empty,
    lonesome though I am,
    I cannot drag myself
    to the phone,
    or to the other room,
    to open arms,
    welcoming heart and hands,
    no, quiet I am,
    here now without need to
    rest, for sleep,
    pining is my pulse’s melody
    for something, or someone
    less bitter, but sweet.

    How circumstance has
    allowed me to feel lost
    without shared voices,
    the constant need
    for chatter,
    for smiles,
    boisterous callings,
    giggles, confident loose laughter,
    bouts of sarcasm and bite,
    but only in good humour,
    voices peal into the night.

    And when the connection
    is broken,
    the silence, emptiness
    creeps into place,
    I’m not used to talking
    with a best friend
    without their face in my
    visual space,

    but the quietness now
    it unnerves me,
    I’m unused to my
    own company,
    suck it up, I tell myself,
    no need for gloom and misery.

    Solitude is not the best
    right now for me,
    I grab my knees close,
    rock furiously,
    mindlessly,
    keeping myself occupied,
    softly, knowingly,
    burdened by the deafening silence,
    all with saddening ease,
    loneliness flows from me.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo from Cats Coming from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘The Birds’ – 02/07/21

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  • Poem: The Birds – 03/07/21

    Poem: The Birds – 03/07/21

    I have learned the language
    of love
    not by loving
    but by being loved,

    by being understood,
    known as heard,
    my inner self has expanded
    into a flourishing wondrous bird.

    First the phoenix,
    decimate my life,
    self-destruction,
    soot, ash, burn, stir,
    potential is rife,

    so then I become
    a crane of hope,
    a sign of quietness,
    of wisdom,
    breadth, width,
    how I’ve learned
    to cope.

    I reach forth, a feather,
    hold it out to be grasped,
    the whiteness,
    sheer purity of vision,
    unspotted,
    not besmirched,
    unmarked,

    stridently,
    my wings spread,
    here I am
    now an eagle with
    perceptive eyes,
    I am scanning the world
    below me,
    for I, I have risen,
    and further will I rise.

    I soar and explore
    the dawn, the dusk,
    daily vision,
    awry is not my intent,
    no, not me,
    not I,

    I understand, wanting more,
    not less,
    won’t I call for more,
    snatch more from Life?

    Unknowing of full potential,
    but by goodness
    I’ll allow myself to explore,
    because I need it,
    I want it,
    to be heard,

    let me project my shaky balance,
    I am, on this point,
    going to be, one day,
    be so confidently self-assured.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Vivid Waves’ – 01/07/21

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  • Poem: Vivid Waves – 01/07/21

    Poem: Vivid Waves – 01/07/21

    Vivid waves heave then capitulate,
    hooves upon sand,
    gallant galloping,
    sun-drenched love;
    subtle stuttering,
    nervous selection,
    calm, controlling.

    Rise forth, my tidal queen!
    Wreak havoc upon all that
    you might see,
    open your waters,
    a space to reside and breathe,
    positive intent;
    entangled seaweed.

    Salted air attends to
    loose hair,
    beachy waves tossed, combed,
    flicked, without concern,
    fingers drag through piecey sections
    without a single care,

    and internally the
    thunderous towering beauties
    envelope a stray swimmer,
    sadly, his time,
    can’t you see?

    Wondering, wandering,
    bang, crash, decimated,
    the still–mood in my mind,
    I am plagued by naught,
    freed by the fragranced sea air.

    This is the air that I subsist on,
    this is the air that I breathe,
    envelope, my waves,
    this tidal queen,
    lest I settle beneath,
    to my home underneath the sea.  

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

    Previous Post: ‘Unexpected Callers ‘ – 29/06/21

    The Aesthete Blog Award! – 30/06/21

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  • The Aesthete Blogger Award!

    The Aesthete Blogger Award!

    Talented, uplifting and inspiring poet, Grace from Grace of the Sun recently nominated me for this blogger’s award! Thank you very much for thinking of me, Grace, I’m incredibly humbled by your nomination. I love her poetry for it is thought-provoking, inspiring, full of positivity, and always tells a captivating story. Please check out her blog and enjoy her creations for yourself!

    Rules:-

    • Use the official logo/graphic of the award and display it on your blog.
    • List the rules.
    • Show some love to the one who nominated you!
    • Mention the creator — Ashmita at the Fictional Journal —  and link it back to the original post.
    • Tell me a something about this world that you admire.
    • What is your favourite form of creativity?
    • Nominate 7 lovely people and notify them by commenting on their posts; spread some love!
    • Ask your nominees 4 questions.
    • Share something you created. (can be anything!)

    Q. Tell me something about this world that you admire.

    I admire the resilience of the human spirit, the rebounding nature and our ability to band together and heal during the worst of times. In particular, I refer to my parents and our family during a particularly tough period in our lives last year and how we coped with it. We went through a lot together and grew into a stronger family unit due to our experiences. We learned to love and care for one another even more than we had previously. From pain grew strength and personal strength, and close-knit ties drawn together even firmer.

    Q. What is your favourite form of creativity?

    Poetry, poetry, poetry! And playing the violin. I also enjoy creating art when I am in the particular headspace to be artistic with bright colours.

    Grace’s Questions!

    1. If you had to move to another place, where would you go?

      I wouldn’t move anywhere else at this stage. I love where I am, and I am a creature of habit. However, if I were to select somewhere to temporarily relocate, perhaps somewhere near the beach during autumn or spring, so I could enjoy the fresh breeze without the overt heat.

    2. If you met your future self, what would you ask?

      “Are you happy with how you lived your life? What are your highlights, and what would you have changed?”

    3. What is the best advice you have received?

      Be yourself and don’t be afraid to be assertive in this life.

    4. Who has had the biggest influence in your life?

      My mother and father. Mum and I are very close, she supports my creative endeavours, listens to my poetry often, and provides the support for me to bounce my ideas off when I need an extra opinion. Similarly too, the quiet strength of my father provides me stability and grounding, and a love spoken not only necessarily in words but through his presence and thoughtful actions.


    Something I created:

    my nominees:

    Jeff

    We Are Karma

    Poet of the Light

    Sacha

    Stephen

    Joy

    elancharan


    My Questions:

    1. What is it that most inspires you to write?
    2. Would you alter a pivotal moment in your life that would alter your life to a completely different path or remain on your current path of life?
    3. What is your most treasured memory?
    4. What is an achievement you are proud of?

      Thank you once again to Grace for this nomination and thank you to Ashmita for creating this award!

  • Poem: Unexpected Callers – 29/06/21

    Poem: Unexpected Callers – 29/06/21

    I carefully consider the moments
    that carry themselves
    before me,
    the cantankerous callers
    embarking upon intrusion
    at my door,
    they knock and knock
    at my bruised heart,
    casually then insistent
    their volume grows.

    Obnoxious be these memories,
    boring into my spirit
    and my soul,
    cataclysmic their cries become,
    courageous I must be!

    I fling open the windows,
    the doors of my being,
    allow them providence,
    permit them entry
    into the safe-houses of my
    internal gaping wounds,
    allow them to nestle,
    making a home of them soon.

    My self-awareness knows
    their presence is at
    a detriment to me,
    but who else will house them,
    these, my memories?
    They are my responsibility.

    And carefully, my wounds heal
    all around them,
    the callers,
    they shudder and groan,
    and now assimilated once more
    within my flesh,
    they are saved,
    their salvation
    was my process.

    Here they can retire quietly,
    be laid to rest,
    no more pain,
    no anguish,
    no suffering,
    silence,
    oh, precious silence,
    it is miraculous,
    it is all-knowing.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Julia Volk from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘The Courage to Remain’ – 28/06/21

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  • Poem: The Courage to Remain – 28/06/21

    Poem: The Courage to Remain – 28/06/21

    The courage to stay true
    while remaining stoic and brave is a path
    that I’ve asked myself to complete to the full.

    But this task is never complete,
    for like a blossoming heart,
    the mission is replete not with
    shattered memories nor broken dreams,
    but growing, heaving breaths,
    thrown casual glances as
    though at a secret love
    so sweet.

    Picturesque scenes in the
    cavities of the mind,
    spilling forth, over barriers
    meant to be leapt o’er,
    abolished,
    nevermore to be seen,
    expand upon this thought,
    much more to find.

    Experiences flood like
    warmth to the soul,
    call to us, to them,
    shall we accumulatively
    experience them all?

    The genuine moments cast
    into truth,
    fragranced with calm,
    not Judgement,
    a glimmer of possibility,
    curiosity escapes and calls,
    gentle circumstance,
    a feeling of natural enthral.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Green Shoots’ – 27/06/21

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  • Poem: Green Shoots – 27/06/21

    Poem: Green Shoots – 27/06/21

    Green shoots press their way
    through compact heavy weight
    of rain-drenched soil,
    I watch them rise,
    peek through the surface,
    surprise! their ends seem
    to call,

    reach toward that sun
    drenching them,
    a morning of rich rays
    warming them,
    the heat permeates my skin,
    and I wonder,

    am I like these shoots,
    growing with others,
    determination,
    precious company,
    shared devotion to growth,
    our fresh lives
    visions renewed?

    The blades of grass,
    I glance upon them
    with a certainty now,
    their simplicity of presence
    seems a sign,
    a reminder from the
    Universe to reach forth,
    be brave, shoot upwards,
    onwards with goals,
    whatever I treasure as my own.

    I dance my fingertips
    across the very tippy-tips,
    the tactile nature of
    assumed hope and enrichment,
    speaks of passion, courage,
    bravery, innate power,
    against my softened skin.

    For we are all in stages of growth,
    some rise quickly,
    others a little slower,
    but truth be told we will
    all reach our own fate,
    onwards, skyward-bound,
    forever Sun-reaching,
    life is beautiful,
    fruitfully revealing,
    utterly amazing,
    potent, unravelling,
    each day’s a precious date.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photos from Pexels.com

    Previous Post: ‘Broken Totem’ – 26/05/21

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  • Poem: Broken Totem – 26/06/21

    Poem: Broken Totem – 26/06/21

    I rise from the moments
    scattered casually,
    and where they laid,
    my visions of prismatic
    colours flourish,
    fistfuls scattered like ashes
    across grains of coloured sand,

    away,

    with the notice of eyes,
    heavy judgement,
    cataclysmic annulment,
    these vivid pencils
    so unpragmatic,

    I know that
    once in a while I must
    soar further than I could previously rise,
    purity is henceforth
    an anomaly,
    a broken token white rabbit,
    sacrificial totem.

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

    Previous Post: ‘First Time’ – 26/06/21

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  • Poem: First Time – 26/06/21

    Poem: First Time – 26/06/21

    The very first moment
    I leant in for your kiss,
    I’d been waiting most of the morning,
    watching your careful moving lips.

    With bliss abounding,
    I had spoken with abandon,
    so ecstatic I was to be in your presence,

    and seated next to you,
    my heart raced,
    my breath held,
    bated,
    surely you could see,
    feel the rich desperation,
    my need,
    for your touch,
    underscored by your
    vermillion crease.

    You were hesitant,
    for unknown reasons
    I watched your body stiffen,
    unsure it seemed you were,
    to accept excitable desire
    toward you,
    perhaps fearful of such nearness.

    With a quick peck on
    billowy cushions,
    disappointed somewhat,
    I retracted,
    dejected,
    it swims through my innards,
    a scourge,
    fresh disease,
    I could not wipe
    the sadness from
    my shuttered eyelids,
    was ‘playfully shy’
    your process?

    I protest with these lips,
    beseech you to
    explain away your fears,
    attempts to allay mine
    of not being enough,
    of being too eager,
    too excitable,
    too weird,
    is my pressuring too rough,
    am I not the girl you wanted,
    am I not the presence desired,
    if not,
    annihilate this morning,
    embarrassment bleeding,
    as your stuttering excuses start…

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

    Previous Post: ‘Whispers’ – 24/06/21

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  • Poem: Whispers – 24/06/21

    Poem: Whispers – 24/06/21

    The whispers that never end,
    quiet murmuring in the wind,
    heavy on circumstance and
    light on dividends,
    powerful words hissed
    just because the
    winter’s breath felt it right,
    due course, of course,
    syllables travel while wounding,
    into dimensional depth of night.

    Carry on, unknown figure,
    hell-raised being
    who creeps and crawls
    while I, unknowing of
    vile longing,
    soak in your visceral
    and vocal offerings.

    To your amazement,
    I enjoy the process,
    for I know not of paths of destiny
    which can be reversed.
    Clear up, Destiny,
    re-direct Fate.
    Do not succumb to deeply-laced hate.

    I wonder to myself what happens
    when meeting
    an archetype of sorts,
    a pendulum swings,
    my thought process it
    threatens to break,

    the song that does not end,
    reverberating inwards
    and out towards my
    ecstatic skin,
    goosebumps aroused into
    a state of flighty knowing,
    excitement as danger courses
    the situation;
    I become all-knowing.

    I must learn of the circumstance,
    its truest form,
    before I move on from the
    pleasure of the
    unknown,
    the uncertain,
    anything other than the darkened norm.

    A love, a love, seemingly so forlorn,
    I reach,
    let me experience
    your turmoil,
    inner hurricane,
    my headiness,
    your storm.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image from cottonbro on Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Angelic Conversations’ – 24/06/21

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