Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

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  • Poem: by the gods I have been blessed – 15/12/21

    Poem: by the gods I have been blessed – 15/12/21

    the gods have blessed me here today
    and I could not be any more grateful
    I present myself open arms tongue-tied
    fumbling for the right words to speak
    so thankful that I have been given this redemption
    this ability for reprieve
    for soul reflection
    for ascension

    I feel my spirit begin to detach and surround itself
    around my very corporeal being
    enlightening my mind, freeing me from suffering
    there’s nothing to gain from retrieval of memories
    from ill historical and former focusing
    their blatant latent effect upon my cerebral and synapses
    firing in a manner so repetitively tiring
    my emotions couldn’t bear the calling,
    the calling oh, how I begged for their stalling

    and now, momentous is this portion of the night
    my essence is detached yet still intact
    surrounding my body like a breath like its very own fog
    an aura of mist and coolness is this what ethereal spirit be?

    I look to the skies and there is nothing nothing but me to see
    I surround this room I breathe myself in
    peculiar this moment be
    but I give in to the strangeness I allow it to take me in
    and suddenly I become at one with this misty translucent sea
    the gods have blessed me

    I’m freeing myself from the defunct thoughts
    the degenerative memories which assisted me naught
    I have and will continue to move forward
    I surround myself, how obscure, how strange,
    but in this instance, it feels like odd perfection,
    to know that at least, my corporeal being by this spirit
    is being saved.

    I can protect myself in a manner so cloaked and sheathed
    not even the most perceptive will view my soul
    for this spirit, this liveliness, my hope,
    has continued to grow and grow
    with time, with accentuation, with acceptance that
    this life is something to embrace, not complain or be
    pessimistic about,

    I spent so many years in that negative degenerative haze,
    ungrateful state and years of sickeningly unwell mental health –
    I almost could not be saved
    but
    I complain not for I have lived those years
    gained life experience
    learned from doing not viewing
    so many years spent angered and stewing
    vile retention of obsession and contention though now
    I have become enlightened
    in the sense that yes,
    by the gods I have been touched to view my truths
    I have been blessed.

    taught with foresight and acceptance that Life is worth living
    Life is worth receiving
    Life is worth investing in and worth the chances of giving and giving
    and improving and being.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    (14/12/21)

    Photo by Nadiia Ploshchenko on Unsplash

    Previous Post: wreathed, perpetually – 14/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Insta: @laurenm.hancock

    This post ‘by the gods I have been blessed’ first appeared on Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.

  • Poem: reflection – 13/12/21

    Poem: reflection – 13/12/21

    haven’t always been the best person
    haven’t perpetually been the kindest human
    in times of pain I lash out and let them have it
    my heart, wounded, dripping by the bloodied scourge
    and the very dagger sliced into my fragile ego
    drips drip drippps with overt sentiment and angry vehemence
    how dare I be slighted my mind will scream
    how dare I be wronged my pride shall call
    but the truth is, there are two sides to every story,
    and I can’t always be stuck playing, rewinding Side B
    hours and hours on repeat,
    lyrically paining.

    Side A has some truth to it, and best acknowledge,
    acknowledge the words permeating, winding
    so freely, because,
    there’s no point in dwelling on a broken empty situation
    which has no love for progress, for gratitude, for positivity
    nor feeling blessed.
     
    although what is love when pieces are sharper than
    fierce puppy needle teeth
    piercing my very being and allowing me to see, to see,
    that my latent anger, my fiercely wrought armour,
    my defences guarding were no longer needed,
    BUT, why look to the past, it’s something to learn from, yes,
    but I do not need to allow it to grace my world again.
    they are gone, never again to be seen, not even if the mouths
    of the world yawned open to engulf me,
    or perhaps, in their own twisted way,
    reward me.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    (12/12/21)

    Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash

    Previous Post: disarmed – 12/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram: laurenm.hancock




  • Poem: dirty fatigue – 11/12/21

    Poem: dirty fatigue – 11/12/21

    fatigue washes over me
    like a deadly dirty sin
    engulfing me embodying me
    takes its fill of me in
    my vision how it blurs
    swaying leaning I reach forth
    unintentionally, of course
    im falling im falling in a manner
    completely unacceptable
    breaking me
    there’s no such thing as monotony

    I fall asleep in place
    sitting up
    apparent hours minutes seconds seem to race
    i’m broken yet oddly assured that I’ll at least
    succeed at gaining some rest
    the writing that ordinarily takes ten minutes to pen
    fifteen minutes left until the almost-full hour
    disjointed thoughts and messages jotted
    now to entertain.

    I will not cry I will not moan
    victim mentality is not in my being known
    I do not know why I am suffering this way
    though, three to four hours a night
    each rest is broken like shattered pavement
    beneath my bare toes

    concentration is a joke
    my eyes my mind travels
    traverse their own wanderlust
    and walking ahead upon a path
    noticing men and women canoodling
    at half-mast
    I cannot ascertain fully what is occurring
    inside my brain
    though I suspect, ascertain, hypomanic is
    the state.

    shall we lead into mania,
    I wonder to myself,
    this polar extreme highlighted by my fervent actions
    frantically creating unto myself
    but there comes a point where I must
    Slow. It. Down.
    I do not know I do not know
    how to escape this vicious cycle
    or, am I meant to simply deal with it
    on my own?

    the moral support which
    could be provided
    is severely unacceptable
    for some assessments are rubbish
    wanting me to be under a yowling’s affair
    instead:
    tik tok tik tok laissez-faire
    rare visitations to my foreign bed.

    Original artwork by myself.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    (10/12/21)

    Previous Post: boy, what’s your name again? -10/12/21
    clear to see – 10/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram @laurenm.hancock

  • Poem: clear to see – 10/12/21

    Poem: clear to see – 10/12/21

    the metamorphosis is clear to see
    vials of perfume softly springing to mind, see?
    I remember you saying my name
    over and over,
    muttering in your sleep
    or was this just part of my former fervent dream
    wanting to be needed
    what a permanent picture;
    so dreary, so dreary,
    terrible need.

    many years spent travelling those
    desperately craggy mountains
    like that gypsy family
    seeking solace
    reverence within their country
    protection, sweet notions,
    extending their planning
    with ease,
    what does this mean to me? —

    to see, be heard, be seen,
    but not felt, no, not yet…
    the only tactile response will be what is calling
    to my mindset, leave pawing, clawing in the dust;
    there’ll be absolutely none of that.

    outrageously wise and perfectly contrite
    I siiiing with my presence by yours, theirs,
    myself by many a-side,
    and warranted yet are the prismatic rays of light
    bounding, bouncing forth, assign this nonsense,
    what a fantastical blur,
    this humdrum of renewed life.

    but I cannot be, I will not be without reference,
    I will dance in my seat without any form of sufferance,
    I will gather the cause and realise
    it’s enough, enough, to be wound, bound together
    do not cut the cord
    sever myself from the aspect that’s calling calling
    upon my bare feet like leech-covered lilies and
    vulnerable sticky pearls strung with the most
    delicate of ease.

    the world is yet to know my capabilities, my cause-and-effects,
    lustrous be thy truest form of genuine connection,
    soulful, calming and transparent temperament.
    (10/12/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
     
    Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

    Previous Post: no more thieves – 08/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram: laurenm.hancock

  • Micropoetry and Artwork: growing pains – 09/12/21

    Micropoetry and Artwork: growing pains – 09/12/21

    sometimes growth still yields many forms of separation…
    mistrust, paranoia, apprehension,
    brothers and sisters envisage the vision before you,
    neither be forceful nor misgiven,

    for tis the season, tis the season,
    for giving and living,
    smile, dear friends,
    for we are together, in part, until the ending.

    so now, bright lights, deep sparkles,
    heavenly ascensions,
    extending the loving,
    commence the resounding celebrations,
    fervent rejoicing.
    (08/12/21)
    Original artwork by myself

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Previous Post: no more thieves – 08/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram: @laurenm.hancock

  • Poem: soul regeneration – 08/12/21

    Poem: soul regeneration – 08/12/21

    dance kisses upon my throat
    so this is what it means to hope
    stroke delicate skin upon my clavicle
    protrusion teases the heart which stems
    from endless fervour growing, grown
    exposed wrists like gentle sheets covering
    calmed corpse awaiting his final resting place
    lay with me
    as you lie to me
    and tell me I’m the most beautiful soul
    in the world you’ll ever be damned to see

    chagrin rolls in my chest
    sooty moss spreads, engulfing my freedom of breath
    these blatant lies you feed me
    extricate me
    envelope me
    warm me
    fool me
    lulled into a false sense of dubious security
    because, feed me with these tainted compliments,
    continue with your altered sentiments
    and soon I’ll come to believe, believe,
    that the moon wasn’t meant to be with the stars
    and instead destined for my eyes while I’m lying in
    your arms.

    but, perturbed am I
    I cannot allow these feelings to emote evoke my being
    immolate your false reverence
    devotion
    dear sentiment
    I know your true intent
    you want to feast upon me with your eyes
    and I’m not like that
    I am not here to be devoured
    only my mind, my memory
    should be entered into,
    my mouth shall speak of what I want
    and it’s the connection
    alliance
    amazing shared life joys,
    even the trials and tribulations.

    heaven sent is this prime connection
    I seek mental stimulation
    loving appreciation
    the physical without it
    is nothing to me
    but soul degeneration.
    (07/12/21)
    Original artwork by myself
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Previous Post: Spoken Word/poem: delving night-words

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram: laurenm.hancock

  • Poem: divine gratitude – 07/12/21

    Poem: divine gratitude – 07/12/21

    my feet are firmly planted
    and I’m no longer here yearning, asking
    why, why not have I?
    while others seem so preciously pleased
    and at ease
    and, amazing now, I am one of these.

    these people, one of many I am
    I search my pockets for a clue
    a hand-jotted note
    a materialistic reminder that I
    am here
    and I don’t need to wonder
    wandering around lost and confused
    wailing, trailing the heels of others
    for a reverent decision

    a ringing precious sound
    no, the energy force,
    wonderment source
    is here and now,
    it’s here in my present,
    and, I know, I know that this
    peaceful surety is something to treasure
    because it’s come at a great cost —
    the loss of my past armour,
    for I do not need it,
    nowadays, I am far, far stronger.

    Bring on Life, Love, bedazzled with
    our amazingly heartfelt stars.
    (06/12/21)  

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by il vano on Unsplash

    Previous Post: paired penguins – 06/12/21

    Lauren M. HAncock Poetry and Prose
    instagram: laurenm.hancock

  • Poem: paired penguins – 06/12/21

    Poem: paired penguins – 06/12/21

    summertime
    everybody is coupled up
    like happy pairs of penguins
    smiling
    rolling polling along
    clutching small cups of pink or orange
    frozen fizz
    not worried about calories
    but emphasis on the joy
    of being alive
    together in the company of one another
    while I watch enviously
    for I do not have that other to smile with,
    hug, or hold.

    my penguin is still searching for his
    giant pebble to capture and present
    to this female
    perhaps the time is not
    ready for the world to be sharing
    itself like that with me
    I can ache and I can moan about
    not having a partner a precious other
    or I could realise that this is my current picture
    and I don’t need to be saved by anyone
    nor superhero
    absolutely no one

    I can carry on with my intent
    my motives my dreams
    achieving quietly slowly
    bay-leaf smiles with curiosity
    as I place my shoes on for yet another
    walk
    just for a certain part of time-pass
    bad mood to soon melt away
    with ease.

    (05/12/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Paul Carroll on Unsplash

    Previous Post: newly forged – 05/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: forged perfection – 03/12/21

    Poem: forged perfection – 03/12/21

    contemplation realisation
    as I understand how to bow to true sensation
    annihilation of the frantic degeneration
    that I stave off,
    these errors that lifestyle,
    away with that nihilism.

    I wander the garden of my mind
    releasing notions that I no longer need
    to find
    the patterns of daisies and cloying pansies
    fit for regeneration between my two eyes
    mind
    soul
    me.

    I know that I must carry on without yearning
    I will someday somehow somewhere find that calling
    have I not found it yet
    is my heart not dancing
    these words
    this poetry
    this prose
    what more can I continue to be asking?

    my passion in lessons
    in moving forward
    in growth patterns
    there’s nothing left but progress
    action-reaction-traction
    enabling myself to be
    to be to be my own forged
    perfection,
    a knowledge
    self-understanding,
    deep breath in,
    pure contemplation.
    (02/12/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. (Words and artwork)

    Previous Post: what do you say? – 02/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
    Instagram @laurenm.hancock

  • Poem: what do you say? – 02/12/21

    Poem: what do you say? – 02/12/21

    what should I do, per se,
    when you smile at me
    and my stomach turns flips fills with butterflies
    for days
    in a haze I am saved from the embarrassment
    of utter utter bashfulness
    your warmth makes me grow with intent
    braver by the moment
    and I ask how was your day
    and what did you do as you laid quietly contemplating
    thoughts come what may?

    did my image cross your mind
    pass in your thoughts
    taut and taught the memories we have wrought
    but what matters most is not that moment
    when our lips touched in my mind
    in my heart you will stay
    contemplate me, my presence in your life
    allow me to stayyy…

    prisms of understanding
    growth factor sighing
    bright eyes reflecting
    and amazing amazing
    could we be if you would allow me to be
    me,
    with you, in your world,
    what do you say?
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    (01/12/21)
    Photo by Marek Studzinski on Unsplas

    Previous Post: transparent duration – 01/12/21
    Previous Post: Spoken Word/Poem: gusty aura – 01/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose