Uncategorized – Page 45 – Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Poem: Light on the Horizon – 13/09/20

What is this headiness I feel
when I gaze into the horizon?
The feeling that everything will be okay reassures me,
calms me during this fine day.

The tears wept and shed a night prior
which wracked my soul and
reminded me of the reality
we all face here
have caused my body to ache,
my head to suffer,
but now, no more.

The release, the utter flooding of emotion
was required at the time,
and while I rarely sob,
it was something I needed to own,
I realised how I truly felt inside
which I don’t acknowledge most times.

But the headiness when I gaze into the horizon,
the colourful morning canvas splashed with
resonating fire and pastel caresses,
the sight welcomes me and makes certain that I will feel its
strength and beauty within me each moment
that I recall the vision in my waking dreams.

There is nothing to mourn,
only that which I should cherish,
the time together,
the future and present moments in which
my mother and I can meld
our spoken dreams, our woven company.

I will remember these times,
events, no matter that they were
sometimes taken for granted,
our time here is actually so precious,
each moment spent with her is
downright momentous.

I want to recall the precious times,
not remember any negativity or suffering.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Laib Khaled on Unsplash

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September 13, 2020

Reflection: An Angel’s Tiny Feathers – 12/09/20

An angel smiles down upon me. I know she’s the one who’s been sending me those floaty, tiny, white feathers. A message from the heavens, reassuring me, her way of telling me that we are all being looked after. Often, I have been seeing them, floating into my sight out of nowhere; they make me smile, and I wonder, I wonder, I did wonder who was behind them.

Research is an amazing thing. I discover so much possible meanings behind her blessings and the messages she is sending me are special, and unique, and true. She is protecting myself and my loved ones, this unnamed, unseen angel, hidden from view.

I was never sure about the existence of supernatural beings. It’s been difficult after growing up believing in the concrete and stubbornly only accepting what I could see. But can certain forces be at work here? Something to remind me to open my eyes further to see what I have not seen until now in the universe? That there’s something truly out there that is beyond my ability to currently see? Her feathers reassure me.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash

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September 12, 2020

Poem: Honestly – 11/09/20

Honestly, where is the truth within
that I’m trying to seek?
The impermanence of self-esteem to be
built up, energetically tremulous
then monumental but still humbling when it’s finally seen.

The lacking of needing the approval or
presence of those I’ve come to depend on,
because the truth is, for personal growth
I must move forth, look forward.

No sense of desertion,
no,
but a personal strengthening that allows
a sense of self to be visible,
not resisting the ability to think,
to make a promise to myself that I must trust
not only what I see,
but what can flow within the stream of consciousness
and lead into the flowing sea.

I don’t know exactly what it is I seek,
but perhaps a sense of serenity that allows me to
feel I’m living my dreams,
a wonderful step forward that there is set to take,
a promise to myself
that I am willing to make.

To be the missing piece of someone’s puzzle
is to first be strong in yourself,
and I don’t want to be a pain,
or depend upon anyone else.

I want to fulfill my quest,
I thought love was the only thing I sought,
I’d cast aside so many other dreams and yet,
I am back,
I am here,
and I will become stronger,
achieve my dreams,
I will reach them, there is nothing to fear.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Laura Vinck on Unsplash

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September 12, 2020

Poem: Flourishing – 10/09/20

My lips drip with compassion,
the honey drags itself into view,
my tongue flickers,
a slight taste of care and hope imbued,
the lingering residue.

I am careful with my ability to share
understanding,
and self-knowledge,
the strength of being able to know oneself entirely,
it can be learned,
I am learning it, too.

I was lost,
so confused I was away from the land that I deemed
important,
my home,
and then a revelation,
changes,
the way forward seemed clearer
and brighter.

And now here I am,
detached from the heights of stressful moments
and I drip with the sanity of the wise,
because now I am managing
rather than floundering,
and by example, I will show you, too,
how to fly.

Guide yourself through positivity,
a gentle act of self-kindness day by day
will never go astray,
take the time out for yourself,
don’t chase others,
respect yourself,
before looking for somebody else.

True compassion for myself drips from my lips,
my tongue flickers out,
I taste the honey
as though I’m a bee,
and I realise,
oh, how I realise,
the path that was laid out for me.

It is not one of suffering,
but one in which I will be flourishing.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Amy Shamblen on Unsplash

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September 10, 2020

Poem: Paper Cranes and Airplanes – 09/09/20

She sits there with paper at the ready
wondering what it is that should keep herself busy,
the beauty and wonder of creating
a paper crane
or a slick air-mobile to cut the air
so precisely.

The crane calls to her,
the idea of it makes her heart flutter with hope
what is about formations in paper that can provide another being
with the ability to broaden their emotional scope?

The airplane wants to be made,
to splice its way through the stars and clouds,
perhaps lean upon the luminous moon
not a man in the moon but a plane full of them
little figures of existence to be
positively at hand.

But she chooses the construction of the crane,
she knows that each fold will lean and paper attend
strength imbued
growing
courageous

paper dreams to be made for you.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Kevin Lanceplaine on Unsplash

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September 9, 2020

Poem: Lean Upon Myself – 08/09/20

For too long, I’ve leaned,
I’ve learned to rest my
weight on others,
for opinions, advice,
ears to hear,

I haven’t trusted my intuition,
it’s been absent,
muted, or hidden,
only my express interest
for support and confirmation
could be seen.

Fierce independence: nil,
where went that courageous
go-getter who would
present to the world, with utter thrill?

I need to alter my practices,
build myself as though a fortress,
strength internally and externally,
power to stand proud and true.

I understand to do so
is to step away from the
comfort of others,
build myself independently,
stronger,
and to know that in doing so
it may be difficult,

but in the end,
the benefits will outweigh
the monumental initial differences,
the discomfort in beginning
will pale in comparison to the future feelings
of growth and personal victory.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Andriyko Podilnyk on Unsplash

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Poem: The Queen Within my Heart – 07/09/20

The resident of my heart exists softly,
she doesn’t want to alarm or perturb,
she simply wants to be present,
there for the aching and the suffering,
to be able to offer some consoling,
some comfort
during times I’m self-annihilating.

I cannot help it;
sometimes I allow things to get to me,
people, events, expectations overwhelm me,
and this little vision in my chest,
with fairy wings and conjured sparkles,
brightened eyes,
she soothes me,
strokes my tender skin,
calms me each day she’s needed.

She does not ask for anything in return,
exists on mere air and my appreciation,
I am ever so thankful to have her around,
because, without her,
my soul might feel such internal damnation.

I am dramatic, I understand,
but without her there to guide with her gentle hand
I might feel lost and alone,
and angered by her apparent desertion
from my heart’s throne.

For she is queen within my beating chest,
she flits and rules quietly,
humble,
my fairy queen,
now here to counsel and guide me,
for the right choices,
the right feelings,
the right emotions,
her regulations,
her subtle rulings.

It is as though she’s visited and is remaining
only for me,
because she knows that I must require her
to remain,
she is my light,
she is my sparkle,
she consoles and aids and accompanies me.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash

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Poem: The Inner Swirl of Frustration – 07/09/20

Frustrations have been beckoning at my door.
The floating, negative energy swirls full in my belly,
it calls for something else to prey on,
catcalling, cruelly,
some more.

Am I not enough for its appetite?
Does this feeling need to engulf every part of me,
washing me, wading through me, the feeling that I have
never desired to seek?

But then, I take a step back.
I stop pursuing that which is causing me to feel… less,
useless, even though the feeling, causation, is unintended
at that.

I am feeling managed,
time-poor by choice, that behaviour does not suit me,
I cannot help how I’m feeling,
but it’s somewhat unappreciated.

There may be recoil from my words,
there may be consequences,
but I must speak my emotions,
let them loose,
I’m no longer crying them aloud,

I simply want an acknowledgement and changed behaviour,
that which shows a permanent change of tune.

Photo by Ryanniel Masucol on Pexels.com

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Poem: Perception – 06/08/20

Perception, my view of my world varies greatly.
Some days I will be bright and bubbly,
others, my nervous stomach cavernous, painful, empty.
My perception is like it’s being drawn across a dotted line,
where will the line stop?
Will visions of positivity or potent feelings be mine?
 
How I see things is not determined only by my internal workings,
rather, influenced by others and the way I react to their activities,
their feelings,
I do not dare sit here and blame,
I simply state and tell,
this is how my perception is swayed,
this I will reveal.
 
Of course, my inner cogs turn and gears grind
when reacting to something that upsets me,
affects my perception in my life,
but I cannot blame anyone for how I react or feel
simply because I should be able to control myself –
self-control, you know the drill.
 
And I wonder, how do others’ perceptions come about,
how are they constructed, do they remain constant
through an encounter,
level throughout?
I’m not sure, I’d have to speak of this with them,
what causes another person’s thoughts and
feelings to suddenly twist inside of them?
 
For some, it may be a riddle,
for others, I may have a slight internal view,
but if they fully alert me,
and I share my perceptions on that with them,
won’t we be all the more knowledgeable?  

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Saffu on Unsplash

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Poem: Sweet Dandelion – 06/09/20

I shall pick you up, sweet Dandelion,
your head is puffed and bursting with seeds,
ready to be shared with the world,
yet somehow removed from your unseen stalk with great speed.
 
You lie here, pristine as can be,
quietly admired by myself,
and I can see your beauty as you present yourself
without any sense of impropriety or
desire to break apart if the wind shall
determine you must leave.
 
But no, I shall save you!
Save you from a rolling fate,
of bumbling about in the wind,
I shall take you away with me,
away!
 
And will I cherish thee?
Will I treasure your presence close to my heart?
I realise you were born to make wishes,
and that your form must be carefully torn apart.
 
You are too hardy to be brought apart by my breath,
you are too strong to be separated by the wind
which I felt would cause you some duress,
no, I will separate your spores with my strong fingertips
and send them on their way to make more dandelions,
more, more, more,
bliss.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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