Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

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  • Poem: Quiet Questioning – 05/06/21

    Poem: Quiet Questioning – 05/06/21

    I could ask myself,
    “Why?”
    That wandering,
    unanswered question,
    a syllable that lingers long
    into the distance,
    so uncertain,
    unsure,
    unfulfilled.

    I could utter this word,
    this sound into the future,
    allowing it to precede
    my sure footing, my beginnings.

    I could cleanse the
    ease and order,
    the pride and circumstance,
    which comes with knowing
    why it is that certainty lives in the
    way that I now prance,

    the true knowing I hold
    in the once-tentative footings
    in my Land of Inbetween
    where I fumbled
    and floundered,
    until I found my grounding
    and then my ascension
    into sureness
    and forever
    which can be quietly seen
    yet boisterously heard.

    Need not have I for
    questioning any longer,
    yearning, calling forth
    for answers from
    the gloom,

    how did my moments
    become so fulfilled
    and imbued with personal power?

    Why? With knowing myself –
    it didn’t happen in mere hours.

    Becoming wiser through
    past moments,
    through histories,
    Life reflects what I
    have learned,

    I rest my head,
    I’m done,
    I’ve cherished those
    Why, Why, Why’s,
    self-indulgent enough,
    I wave them goodbye.
    Forever?
    I am sure.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Trusted Intentions’ – 04/06/21

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  • Prose: Trusted Intentions – 04/06/21

    Prose: Trusted Intentions – 04/06/21

    I trust my intentions; they’re soft, gentle, and pure, I only wish for goodness now, swipe away ill meanings and discord, of which nothing useful can come or be pure. Wanting the best for others, even if they have caused hurt, well, this takes character, and really – dutiful practice, so devout.

    One may speak cruelly of others in the heated moments of distress, but clear up the anger felt, said, hurled, and meant — nobody is perfect, everyone has at least one fault, it’s not their problem to always to manage those imperfections now. But there should be an acknowledgement, and at least a want for future change, sometimes that’s all that can be provided, a truthful manner of saving grace.

    Because when hurt is projected, it thereby reflects an error in judgement; it’s right, well and good to protect oneself, but know where others have been, their current plight, where they stand, where they stood. I’m not suggesting one should excuse all bad behaviour, but what I am saying is to reconsider, have sympathy, some people will, won’t, can’t, do not know how, or if they are meant to or should change, and if they are to remain, sometimes present behaviours simply have to be excused, to ‘be’, until they’re hopefully unlearned, from their future repertoire, unsaved.

    It’s up to you to decide whether you will take a gamble and either temporarily – or maybe eternally – tolerate these lacked charms, whether they cloud your judgement, your perception of the person you see, and whether they will or won’t change, develop, prosper, and learn.

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


    Previous Post: ‘The Keyhole’ – 03/06/21

    Previous Post: ‘Attraction – So Sweet’ – 04/06/21

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  • Prose: Attraction – So Sweetly – 03/06/21

    Prose: Attraction – So Sweetly – 03/06/21

    The wind is howling; dashing gentlemen have gone away. Perturbed though I am, I do not wish they could have stayed. For their presence was an encumbrance, they meddled with my mind, seems boisterous to determine, my disinterest easy enough to find. I wish I could have run screaming, through the fields, because I was not made for manufactured love, bottled, predated, stamped illegally as a pull, begrudgingly made a deal.

    There is no direction to be gleaned or sought after in a land of falsifications, damaged connections from the very beginning. And they terrified me so, I need firm structures, my mind stages, my personal growth, I did not need the round of dastardly gentlemen to approach and then court me — they’re unknowns.

    I have my own energy, I breathe off each moment of respiration, counterfeit love potions become annihilations, and winding on the pavement it is easy enough to see, who has learned I’m not to meant to wed, to love, maintain, to be, unless it is freely?

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

    Previous Post: ”The Keyhole’ – 03/06/21

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  • Poem: The Keyhole – 03/06/21

    Poem: The Keyhole – 03/06/21

    There is no thought involved
    to access personal wisdom,
    inhale, exhale,
    irreversible – the accessible?
    No.
    Align with your Incredible.

    Enter into the keyhole
    which guards secrets within,
    past those pearled gates,
    access is possible
    if you meditate and ruminate freely.

    If anything arises
    which impedes your process,
    understand that to move forward
    we should adopt the most relaxed
    manner we can,
    remembering we are blessed.

    No tiresome inabilities
    to achieve or gain,
    ignorance, excuses,
    no longer bear pain.

    Enlivening the memories
    without acting as though
    it’s a task,
    better still, receive,
    receive, understand
    the captured worthiness,
    watch it grow,
    self-growth at full mast.

    It may seem beyond our knowledge
    that this circle of wisdom
    can extend,
    allowing for flow,
    for brightness,
    amazing this power within you
    as it attends, and you comprehend.

    Because every part of me
    I have come to properly learn,
    it is my heart which connects,
    makes pathways,
    from my memory pool to see,
    then discern,

    knowing now I’m truly
    better off on my own,
    I must be firm and capable
    at standing and walking
    confidently, alone.

    Accompanied at times only by
    those who listen, share, and support,
    a circle of trust,
    a personal cohort.

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

    Previous Post: ‘At What Cost?’ – 02/06/21

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  • Poem: At What Cost? – 02/06/21

    Poem: At What Cost? – 02/06/21

    I am mesmerised,
    I am amazed by the
    opportunities available,
    a contented smile decorates my lips,
    eyes sparkling like
    popped champagne bubbles,
    they dart up and within my irises,
    each glimmer,
    every speckle breathes life
    between the silences
    which exist amidst
    peeps of delight —
    the night, the night,
    knows well of these.

    Let us come together,
    watch, wait and learn
    at the processes,
    they’re harmless, yes?
    You know nothing of the
    consequence of these,
    there’s burgeoning duress,

    but understand completely
    your wish to know
    of the debt –
    there’s no investment without intent,
    unwilling to unashamedly make amends.

    And the truth is,
    the source of this is,
    I, I have ceased to care,
    oblivious to obvious moments,
    I should have been wide-eyed, wide-open,
    but I refuse to deplore,
    a learning curve, of sorts;
    god damn, I’ve actually learned,
    not simply preconceived notions and returning,
    those mistakes, those behaviours,
    a dulled, boring blur.

    Better leave the moments as they are,
    inert, unmoving, unspoken words.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Previous Post: ‘Should I Silence my Songs?’ – 01/05/21

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  • Prose: Shall I Stifle my Songs? – 01/06/21

    Prose: Shall I Stifle my Songs? – 01/06/21

    It would be wise, it would be prudent, to give up the nuisances, to cast away the cruel injustice, and travel elsewhere, where they know us. For now, my words bear less ‘zing’, overworked, overwrought, haphazard it is to over-sing, it seems. I can speak of experiences; growth, positivity, liveliness, but without a visible, solid base, how will my truths be known? How can they direct, morals and lessons intersect, when no one is here to witness what’s been asserted, what has been said?

    Trust me; I walked on the other side of life, what you see now, pretty petunias and roses, barren land before, they would never grow. Despair, anger, frustration, hatred, they were the currencies of life in which I coped, how I stagnated, the manners of living I breathed and for a long time, I remained without hope.

    No point detailing any further, little point into going into specifics, this is enough to know that I’ve made some great changes. These things never happen overnight – indeed, it’s like watching a hatchling every day, if there’s a break between each stage, it’s obvious to one’s eyes the vast developmental change.

    I sing a certain song now, I warble newer tunes, I’m much happier, I feel this in my being, to the full. Of course, occasionally, I yearn for some things, but Life’s not perfect, and distractions keep the mind busy. The scent of those luscious flowers, why, one might say, my life is pushing roses, so much more joy must be on its way.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Journey to the Light; ‘ – 01/06/21
    Previous Post: ‘Seems as Though’ – 01/06/21
    Previous Post: ‘Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum’ – 30/05/21

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  • Prose: Journey to the Light – 01/06/21

    Prose: Journey to the Light – 01/06/21

    Allow me to gambol, to rise with positive growth – what a goal this is, this moment of truth in itself. It will truly show and detail, I place myself in the right, waltz outrageously and joyfully, inextricably into the night. There is nothing to fear in the darkness; I am strong, safe, no one is hunting, no search for vulnerabilities, gaps, chinks in the armour, when unsubstantiated evidence can breathe and easily flee.

    My journey to the light is an intention, a focusing of comprehension, the knowing, that being in dimness is not frightening, but character-building. For, if I cannot see with my own two eyes, I must be guided by head and heart, arms are my feelers, they stiffen, reach forth. I fumble in the darkness some more.

    Vigorously, I wave my hands this way, that, coming across nothing, perhaps I’m in a room that’s empty and bereft of anything negative, of any prior circumstance I shall not share its air, nor breath – I am miraculously understanding this inner light which is guiding me from my interior, and realising now what it means to me.

    Covered with a fine veil, the area of inner light peeks through dotted lace: a shroud of sorts to a monument, I am attending to this – my loved ones, so proud. I’m relaxed, with my strength, with my desire to do good for the world, myself, others, I am, I may be engulfed by darkness currently, but I am led by my brightness within, in and of itself.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Seems as Though’ – 31/05/21
    Previous Post: ‘Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum’ – 30/05/21

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  • Poem: Seems As Though – 31/05/21

    Poem: Seems As Though – 31/05/21

    It seems as though my presence
    isn’t viewed as a present,
    but rather an unwanted hindrance –
    I’ll vacate the present premises.

    No longer take up space
    within the mind,
    I will walk away with zeal off to a space
    where my company’s wanted,
    with enjoyment and laughter
    again easy to find.

    It’s not difficult to feel
    the arisen tension melting away,
    when I can distance myself from
    the words and blame
    from another,
    it is their argument’s sake.

    Funny how repeat-offending
    goes by the book,
    when moral constructs broke,
    and rule-breaking occurred
    without a second look,

    Parade all the upsets which
    speak unto thy soul,
    but I won’t catch hold,
    carry the wind of it,
    now leaves —

    watch the wind wash,
    autumn hues
    drift and fall.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Leandro De Carvalho from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum’ – 30/05/21

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  • Prose: Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum – 30/05/21

    Prose: Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum – 30/05/21

    Stability, balance, breath; it’s all I need, in, out, announcing my presence, my cares rise like air, into the atmosphere they appear to swirl, yet in my mind, I am stagnant, there must be a woman within, not this impressionable young, little girl inside. That youngster awaits, with insolence, she does not want to see, that the path undertaken by some ill-fated decisions, their negativities and future judgements allowed are glaring to others, plain to see. Why cannot I understand that I’m losing grip on the reality of accountability, need I digress? Think of poor decisions like little stars, from here they feature and twinkle, but in reality, they explode, combust, from afar, a death already done, a death already begun. Fate has decided that this girl must learn or her progress, hard work, personal growth and path, will cease to be, unravel it may, completely come undone.

    But there is a positive way of knowing that steps can be made, forward, one foot in front of the other, balance, balance… break… It’s not a lapse in judgement, it’s just a broken moment; thought patterns causing pauses while I analyse future processes. For decisions cannot always come to us easily, and right and wrong may not simply extract themselves from emotion and feelings. I am yet to be angered to the point of no return, because my frustrations at poor treatment have been calmed, my quarrel with disrespect relaxed, coping mechanisms developed. To poor behaviour, it seems this girl is not so malleable, after all. I cannot control how others treat me, but I can accept and decide when from their presence I will turn and leave.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Freedom’ – 29/05/21

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  • Prose: Freedom – 29/05/21

    Prose: Freedom – 29/05/21

    I trust the magic will imbue, with my soul it will carry me through, into the Great Unknown, where hands and eyes await a certain prize, something to peruse, some agent to get high, to ride on euphoria – these days, it’s time, karmic balance, get paid.

    Their surrounding palms reach and reach; through a black hole, they rise forth, making some regret wanting to live, and those eyes, beady, uninterrupted, staring orbs, they could never placate disaster, never cause a broken heart to mend, to become less torn.

    They live to receive; to take from me, each piece of my puzzle which I had placed hesitantly, and then so deftly, will now be taken away from their family, their home, because of spiteful eyes and appendages of others, gone rogue and free.

    But, I am joyful, because unlike these hands, unlike these eyes, I can dance, away and aware, for I am coursing with power, I am alive. Escape is not an option, it is the only way, the only path, my decision, my freedom can never be taken or bought, only given away, or treasured and retained.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Jewels of Thought’ – 29/05/21

    Previous Post: ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’ – 28/05/21

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