Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: #amwriting

  • Poem: Rows of Rosies – 26/07/21

    Poem: Rows of Rosies – 26/07/21

    Rows and rows of rosies,
    we bend and sniff,
    achoo,
    we’ve more to fear these days
    than an ancient dreaded plague or flu,

    we link arms,
    ring-a-rosies,
    we hold each other tight,
    we’re here for all
    through thick and thin,
    through harsh morn’ scratchings
    and eerie dead of night.

    The home becomes a zone
    where no fresh soul shall pass,
    each contagion has already been
    unknowingly passed.

    Families isolate,
    quarantine with hope,
    watching loved ones repair themselves,
    immunity must grow,
    it’s the only option they must know.

    Recovery, or treatment
    when possible,
    required if ease of breath abates,
    this playtime of ring-a-rosies
    has been forgotten as of late,
     
    but still we all link arms,
    hold each other tight,
    spin, focus now, less our prior delight,
    for it is with determination,
    solidarity and fight,
    that we will win these battles,
    calm seeps into our nights.   

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Kate Greenaway in ‘Mother Goose’, sourced from Wikimedia, use under Public Domain

    Previous Post: ‘Perfect Imperfections’ – 24/07/21

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  • 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: Sing my Melodies – 07/07/21

    Poem: Sing my Melodies – 07/07/21

    Too easily influenced
    by voices all around,
    inside my heart bursts
    into song,
    its words begging to
    be allowed,

    what is wrong with
    expression,
    is mine such a terrible thing?
    Cool quietness,
    I’ll smile from the wings.

    This is now all for me,
    need not put on a show,
    I’ve done so many years,
    so forthcoming,
    and these were solidified in rough stone,

    wrought with embers
    and rich lava flow,
    my youth, my demeanour,
    explosive,
    angry retorts thrown.

    But listen to this heartbeat,
    why, I needn’t,
    shouldn’t have to make amends,
    amenable, sure,
    perhaps,
    won’t you guide me,
    open palm, welcoming hand,
    and show me a world I’ve
    so yearned to see,
    vibrant, ecstatic,
    won’t I be allowed to be me?

    Freely, oh, freely,
    let me sing my melodies
    with shyness then
    exuberance,
    a confident, strident ease.

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

    Previous Post: ‘I am’ – 07/07/21

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  • 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: 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: 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: 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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  • Prose: Forever – 22/06/21

    Prose: Forever – 22/06/21

    If I could smile forever, would it be a blessing or torture? The relics of my past lay here, ready to plunder. Sort through the objects of murk, cast aside the intense, vile need to drink, the sunken images, the dishevelled bed, the catastrophic thoughts only I can see.

    If I smiled at you, day-in, day-out, would you believe me worthy, would your infatuation remain devout? If I trust my intuition, making wise, well-formed decisions, would I ride by without guilt and indecision, always smiling unto the morning?

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image credit: James Wheeler on Pexels.com

    Previous Post: ‘This Time of the Morning’ – 21/06/21

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