Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Category: Uncategorized

  • Poem: The Wild Card – 11/02/21

    Poem: The Wild Card – 11/02/21

    I am curious:
    how much of this tale 
    do you know for yourselves?

    I am inquisitive: 
    which part of it makes you need to 
    live and breathe, and want to dive and delve?

    I am aware there lies certain conditions of the body and mind, 
    the pages whipping in the gust, 
    their varied intent,
    settling in, seemingly randomised.

    Like her, he needed saving,
    but it’s as though he calmly waited to be found,
    the blow softened from another well-trusted, 
    I’m whipping away their cobwebs, 
    the path ahead is easy enough to find now.

    It’s all set to be trodden upon,
    won’t they reap what has been sown?
    Certain pieces of this puzzle discarded, 
    and others’ presence completely unknown. 

    Now, the wild card,
    rugged character, 
    in the playing deck is quite uncommon, 
    his frequency is not plentiful, 
    and his presence here is never forgotten.
     
    Thus, while searching for his twinkling stars, 
    remember the constellations which have been
    gazed upon
    by millions and millions more, 
    so appreciative from afar,

    this player, in his rarity, 
    his appearance, he is speaking, 
    to me, to us, 
    to you, to them, 
    his relevance akin to a promising
    three card spread,
    a bright destiny which won’t stop calling. 

    I yearn to provide some solace 
    for ambiguity is what I’ve leaned upon, 
    in time, many souls will repair themselves,
    heart, body and mind,
    the wild card smiles upon and with them as one.
     
    There will be much motivation to spring forth
    to allow progress to heal,
    these facts are done and dusted,
    more predictions to be told soon,
    positive forecasts, will they bloom,
    will they yield?

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Debasish Lenka on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Rested Mind – 10/02/21

    Poem: Rested Mind – 10/02/21

    We went through isolation, 
    lockdown for many months, 
    we craved human interaction, 
    now I treasure tranquillity for myself. 

    Being stuck between four walls
    had caused me much distress, 
    now I enjoy the hush of it — 
    instrumental to my peace,
    the meditative nature of my success. 

    It’s not that I don’t treasure
    time spent with family and friends, 
    it’s not that I’m not grateful
    that many restrictions were able to end. 

    However, I’ve learned to accept and appreciate
    time alone, by myself,
    quietness I’d never yearned to find, 
    a busy calendar?
    No, a rested, calmed body, life, and mind in themselves.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Refreshing Confidence – 09/02/21

    Poem: Refreshing Confidence – 09/02/21

    Refreshing is the scent of confidence,
    I see you breathe it in like a cure,
    it repairs and it adjusts you with love,
    the acceptance of yourself,
    with blessings from up above.

    Do not worry about whether
    the points of your life,
    the details,
    will all fit together,

    because within,
    you’ve grown far stronger,
    there is no more space for anyone but you,
    there is no wonder for any other.

    So, quieten down the heady sensations
    of silent vibrations which hurt you again and again,
    the buzzing which dulled your heart and mind
    into something you felt you always needed but
    you never required that certain adjustment.

    I prayed for you each day,
    for the moment of your kingdom come,
    and here it is,
    you’ve matured into such a wonderful being,
    someone important’s will has been done.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by nega on Unsplash

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  • Poem: The Search – 04/02/21

    Poem: The Search – 04/02/21

    Tree-man gathers and smiles in the plains that are his own, 
    shrubs and bushes alongside also grin and rustle, 
    they watch as he explores his land, 
    attends to the fallen leaves as gently as if each were a sacred sign, 
    they are, in fact, because they’re quietly home grown. 

    Each delicate marking, 
    each unique shade of yellow, brown or green makes his
    heart swoon, 
    his mood heady 
    for he is seeking his queen, 
    a tree-lady whom he can share his life with, 
    not just as his own.

    But there are few tree-people in this land, 
    they’re a rarity as such, 
    in fact, he’s only viewed his family, 
    never had the opportunity to reach forth to another tree-person
    to embrace or touch. 

    He’s been searching so long for that leafy being who will 
    meld with his heart, 
    to accept the language of his artful words, 
    his kindly soul, 
    his hopeful spirit and warming eyes crossed with subtle stars.

    His journey has taken him high and low, 
    and deep within, there’s a part of him which knows
    that there may never be that tree-lady waiting out there for him, 
    but he accepts this as potential truth, 
    doesn’t weep, 
    doesn’t sigh, 
    he is strong enough within himself to know that 
    he can carry on happily,
    and perhaps the dreamed-off meeting is secretly nigh. 

    Meeting someone would just make his life all the more complete. 

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Image drawn by myself, copyright 2021.

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  • Poem: Changes – 04/02/21

    Poem: Changes – 04/02/21

    I liked the way the pain was numbed, 
    as though an anaesthetist injected me, 
    cruel jab to be kind, 
    no feelings of any style, 
    was it easier to not feel those emotions of old, 
    none to be felt, seen, or held?

    I became empty, 
    days monotonous, nothing to look forward to, 
    that become pain in itself, 
    the knowing that the unknowing promised all the much
    the same, 
    nothing forthcoming, 
    no southerly, northerly direction, 
    east and west hadn’t heard of me either. 

    Memories would be brought back in excruciating and extracted style, 
    reminiscing upon the joys with emotions of sorrow and hurt, 
    devastation and longing, 
    but the truth is, 
    there was nothing to salvage from that path, that view. 

    Once so empty, 
    now feeling so full, 
    my heart swells, 
    it blossoms, 
    my path here was arduous but I made it, 
    a tentative shaky-cornered smile appears, 
    and I’m suddenly feeling so blessed to have made it through
    the storm and the cyclones and the hurricanes, 
    and everything that the gods could have thrown at me, 
    this moment I righteously own.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Virgil Cayasa on Unsplash 

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  • Poem: Quiet Improvements – 02/02/21

    Poem: Quiet Improvements – 02/02/21

    Sometimes life won’t be perfect
    no matter how much you will it, 
    you adjust, you alter, 
    you are adamant, 
    yet plans, they falter,
    accept defeat, 
    you must admit this.  

    It does not matter how much we carry 
    wishes within us, 
    there are moments which will simply 
    flit out of the picture,
    the power within, 
    the strength which hardens us 
    can make us shudder, 
    and suddenly there’s that shattering, 
    the shattering of one’s perfect picture. 

    It shouldn’t matter that I can’t sit here and 
    share all the rest, 
    paint a scene for you to observe and for myself to reminisce,
    despite it all, despite my hopes, my dreams, 
    I want to move forward, and become much more
    than that which I yearned for 
    now and evermore,
     
    a glass-stained picture 
    which drips in brights, in hues, 
    in yellows, in blues, 
    and rectifies the scent of unwanted, sympathetic flowers,
    shall we begin anew?

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Taisiia Shestopal on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Personal Growth and Sunshine – 31/01/21

    Poem: Personal Growth and Sunshine – 31/01/21

    The sunshine drips through my windowpane, 
    illuminating, brightening, my heart, my mind, 
    I am finally at peace, 
    there’s no need to search nor find, 
    I am satisfied, satisfied 
    with the breath of my life, 
    my soul it feels so light and kind. 

    Nevermore will I search arduously, 
    high and low, 
    painful, the path impatient but slow 
    for completion through others, 
    through acceptance and approval, 
    why, what is the point in it all?

    External throes, 
    moments wrestling in mental snow, 
    lack of understanding in ways that weren’t meant to be known. 

    I am within my aura of acceptance, 
    there’s a certain feeling of knowing and being, 
    truth and understanding,
    being comfortable within oneself is actually somewhat amazing, 
    this growth has occurred seemingly quickly, 
    but it has been many years in stagnant making, 
    unseen anticipation, 

    and now I’m finally here, 
    it’s time to work on others things, 
    but always being thankful and grateful for everything I have, 
    and the events, trials and tribulations I’ve experienced and seen, 

    I must know that there were others playing supportive hands too, 
    but most of all, 
    maturity and experiences have helped me make it through,
    I am blessed, 
    not the member of a group who felt unfairly damned.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash

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  • Poem: A Trio of Happy Bakers – 30/01/21

    Poem: A Trio of Happy Bakers – 30/01/21

    Wafting aromas of pastries from windowsills
    of homely cottages,
    welcoming me,
    engulfing me, 
    overwhelming my mind and tummy.

    Sweetened moments flit back into my mind, 
    the shared moments with family and friends
    as we baked and sung together, 
    to music, 
    joyfully along,
    side by side,
    these times were ours to experience, 
    and now for me to wistfully recall.

    Those moments, those friendships, 
    sadly fallen by the wayside, 
    but I will remember the sweetness of our smiles, 
    of our accumulative pairs of brightened eyes, 
    because before things went pear-shaped, 
    they were apple-shaped, 
    in pairs and trios were we, 
    nothing to be taken away from, 
    no pains, 
    only happiness to be seen.

    And at the end of the night, 
    when baking was complete and it was time to
    sample the delights, 
    we would delve joyfully into the creations, 
    no fear of weight or sugar content, 
    no, no, 
    of these we had no awareness or fright, 
    we’d indulge until we were full to the brim, 
    and still we wished we had more to fill ourselves with. 

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Taylor Grote on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Land of Inbetween – 30/01/21

    Poem: Land of Inbetween – 30/01/21

    Overwhelmed, 
    called away from the line of duty, 
    what do I recall?
    What is there to own as mine?
    Treasures of memories from a trove.

    Responsibility must be taken, 
    I can encompass my decisions as a whole, 
    the knowledge that I’m assisting, 
    even in small increments, 
    helping growth. 

    Of course, I cannot change others’ weaknesses, 
    I cannot control their reactions and commotions, 
    that is one left for the yearbook, 
    something to reflect upon during the consideration of the
    year’s cessation. 

    They can and will either learn to sink or swim, 
    I cannot make the decisions for them, 
    only self-advocacy, 
    support, 
    and aiding achievements, 
    the look upon their faces when having gained a success, 
    the lilt in their voices when they’ve grown and a future’s been seen, 
    now that is something to cherish,
    the first sign of the land of Inbetween.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Shot by Cerqueira on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Morning Chatter – 29/01/21

    Poem: Morning Chatter – 29/01/21

    I’m all out of cares and concerns, 
    leave behind the airs and trials, 
    there is no haughtiness or sinister circumstances,
    view the alterations for miles.

    Those dreams which haunted the mind
    but only last night, 
    are they pointing to, 
    are they signalling signs? 
    Obscure and strange, 
    but there, in existence, to be analysed within the times?

    Truthfully, I cannot say, 
    the images were the makings of another, 
    only relayed to me the very next day, 
    broken sleep having saved, 
    in the morning, an important character, 
    the priors potent and frightening, 
    rattling, 
    yet intriguing,
    first morning light chatter.    

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

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