Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: blog

  • poem: rising spirits – 29/06/22

    poem: rising spirits – 29/06/22

    Taint my skin with sweet molasses

    the sweetness a scourge

    overrides the senses

    a narrative spoken

    a tale long shared

    abstract metamorphosis

    the thick syrup

    clings to my hair.

    Do not wonder at the analysis of yesteryear

    it is long gone

    yet they all keep resurfacing

    is 2022 the year?

    The year for spirits rising

    tell me this: the tone, is it worth

    minor energy spent,

    my time for them they are a-calling

    I feel like it’s just a time pass

    and I hope they’re not hoping for more

    wisened up,

    here, no longer illiterate at

    being street-smart

    far more confident to the core

    I can see far more clearly now.

    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.

    Image from magwood_photography on Pixabay

  • poem: it’s the intent to see – 21/06/22

    poem: it’s the intent to see – 21/06/22

    When they try to diminish you

    stop you from expressing what is within you

    smile and be positive

    ignoring their jibes and

    obvious attack towards you

    there is no point in acknowledging the intent

    the internet is full of people like these

    there are many many others

    with hearts heaven sent

    focus on these beings

    those with kind natures

    who don’t need to be stars of the show

    the battle the others waged,

    there is no time nor place

    for them with me

    this I inherently know.

    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.

    Photo: pixel2013 on Pixabay

  • poem: a sunrise of theories – 15/05/22

    poem: a sunrise of theories – 15/05/22

    a sunrise of theories
    I walk a path surrounded by foliage
    shrubbery lines the endless mileage
    and encounter do I some things grand and fantastic
    many questions now come from this querent
    bold and bombastic

    flowers filled with fragrance
    bow their heads to my queries
    I suddenly have, about life
    all these convoluted theories
    about what causes this
    or leads on from such and that
    these riddles take myself
    away from fiction versus facts

    my eyes search the skies
    scintillating and scarlet
    this sunrise or sunset
    whatever, whichever, which,
    I will choose to have it
    for before the beauty of the sun
    once dormant now exhilarating
    and so young
    I can settle my thoughts
    quietly, meditatively
    little need for thoughts to hesitate or run.
    @laurenm.hancock
    © Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
    Images from Pixabay

  • poem: breath of the wild – 14/05/22

    poem: breath of the wild – 14/05/22

    breath of the wild
    intuitive is the means
    in which life should be led
    upheaval can distend tightened seams
    and there is a certain understanding
    that change can’t displace
    one’s destiny
    but time, oh, my innocence,
    will neither aggravate nor alter
    Fate’s true intensity.

    bulging at the middle
    a curious heap
    in the middle there’s an aching
    something wants to be seen
    it’s the beginnings of eye-watering truth
    a stanza made none-too-soon
    enlighten the world
    to your energy
    your inner zeal
    the affirmations to burst through
    into the waking sun,
    streams of light celebrating in melodies
    which elaborately unfurl.
    (c) 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
    Artwork from Pixabay.

  • poem: love and wanderlust – 27/04/22

    poem: love and wanderlust – 27/04/22

    Angelic breeze tickles my nose
    the serenity and beauty of what I know
    Nothing is more perfect than the moment of now
    Embracing this fact
    Intuitively is how

    Wandering in the scope of the breathless view
    amazing is the habit, admiringly renewed
    understanding the intent,
    why, Beauty, there’s a sum,
    a knowing, sheer growing,
    correcting a heart which had grown numb.

    Florid complexion, blushed cheeks above a smile,
    a knowing and wanting, a potential for more
    than a while,
    a wonderful aching and warmth deep within,
    gravitating moments,
    careful, step, step, don’t fall into the
    false world you’re presented with.

    Fluidity, potpourri, scented, a flurry,
    Reaching, a nearing, subtle, no need for fearing,
    a universal tying of intent we know as Hope,
    gravelly words, precisely uttered,
    it is then that I will know.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
    Photo from Pixabay

  • poem: darkness entwined – 20/04/22

    poem: darkness entwined – 20/04/22

    I can’t be bright, I can’t be calm, I want to write darkness into their arms, the lovers’ capacity are shadowed in depth, their fates, true strengths will be met. In the witching hour their magic’s so bright, Moon sprays light into their night and the raven caws deep rumble, sharp, hard, one would never know if the moon threw or broke the bewitching stars.

    The lovers entwine in depths of night now, needing solace in their minds filled with sadness and sorrow, are they caressing the wrong one, tales wrought, takes to be undone, and powerful are whispers under breath, grails to be found or hopefully won.

    (c) 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.

    Image from Pixabay.

  • poem: pink dress – 06/04/22

    poem: pink dress – 06/04/22

    Conspiring melodies,
    tongue-in-cheek parodies,
    beginning to recall memories,
    shove them down,
    place myself at ease.

    Jilted rhythms,
    a sonata heaves and breathes,
    escaping the melancholy,
    Dear, there seems no end to these.

    I waltz through artwork,
    it is my time,
    my time to spit forth images,
    not rhymes,
    that was a dragging tune that brought itself
    to harken my ears,
    enough to resolutely accept,
    enough of the feigned prowess, remember,
    always remembering,
    who you were before that pink dress.

    (c) 2022 Lauren M. Hancock  Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
    Image from Pixabay.

  • poem: healing has a language – 04/04/22

    poem: healing has a language – 04/04/22

    Healing has a language,
    I whisper softly,
    airily it knows,
    of the simplicity
    and the duality
    of wondrous beauty,
    poetry and prose,
    the writers and the poets
    swing each way in kind,
    whimsical deciduous trees
    sway our way,
    whispering in turn,
    and slightly, just slightly
    out of time.

    The rhythm does not plod,
    it’s a mirror of complex minds,
    the syncopation, patterns, drives us ahead,
    out west, north, south,
    east: we fly through time,
    we develop our skills –
    it’s not just a hobby,
    this is our dream,
    to share love, passion, mythology,
    chances and pain,
    healing,
    vocal rhythms drive us to where we need,
    healing mankind.
    @laurenm.hancock
    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.
    Image from Pixabay.

  • micropoem: timing is nigh – 01/04/22

    micropoem: timing is nigh – 01/04/22

  • micropoetry: process – 01/04/22

    micropoetry: process – 01/04/22

    speaking a language, in tongues befitting a
    dark dagger-like crown,
    with a purity hidden deep within auric angelite
    surrounding anaemic complexions with
    truths damned-well-tolds,
    a peeking into the gloom of their dastardly hidden rooms,
    roam, oh how I will roam in lairs of darkness,
    invitations extending to no luminescent process,
    luminal passageways to their hearts,
    navigation with most careful of prowess.

    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
    Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com