Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

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  • Poem: The Hot Room – 13/08/21

    Poem: The Hot Room – 13/08/21

    Orchids wilt in the hot room.
    It is summer here, outside, a belligerent winter
    with a dying, poorly Moon.
    They have thrown themselves from their stakes.
    Stakes which were there to provide safety,
    protection,
    backboned projections.

    The orchids, they are careless, for they have
    left their safe havens,
    their ties have been cut,
    severed from the heaven they once
    grew towards,
    now wilted, lethargic.

    What a sorry sight for eyes,
    used to falling upon beauty,
    now dejection and misery,
    once-taut, now lacklustre under the
    oppressive heat’s fury,
    the split system churns out
    Celsius, five and twenty,
    degrees of measure too hot
    for the orchids,
    whom cannot stop wilting.

    Their heads, they can barely lift,
    too much of a trouble it is to subsist,
    rejection of the support
    because I cannot, will not,
    do not want to entertain that foggy breath
    of mist,
    morning time offers some solace
    when the fiery heater does its trick.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

    Previous Post: Interior – 11/08/21

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  • Poem: Interior – 11/08/21

    Poem: Interior – 11/08/21

    The fullness in my belly
    tells me how blessed
    I am to smile,
    to grin until cheeks ache,
    what madness,
    corners of lips will remain
    widow-peaked,

    I’m grateful for the satisfaction
    which comes from not being
    lonely and hollow,
    many yesterdays,
    potential tomorrows
    promised to be laden with
    such sorrow.

    But I have changed mindsets,
    it is nothing short of amazing,
    withholding health from myself, I had,
    now, pleasantries, luxuriating,
    I would not allow myself to
    experience any possible bliss,
    deprivation, for firm reasons,
    and now I’ve relaxed,
    relinquishing control,
    what personal power this is.

    It should matter not,
    should not be all about,
    what one looks like
    to the world,
    how one presents is only
    one sheen, lustre,
    shimmer of a pearl,

    what we are made up of,
    the interior,
    our strength,
    our power,
    our desires,
    truth of the matter,
    these are what really matter.

    Disgruntled nature within,
    cataclysmic, self-loathing,
    hatred growing,
    wanting, desiring, that physical
    changing,
    but it is with true consciousness
    that we should be engaging,
    not just with the world
    but ourselves,
    power-pressing up against
    closing-in walls,
    free yourself,
    it’s truly triumphant
    to be strong in this world.

    No longer aiming for tiny,
    but aiming for happy and healthy,
    already halfway there,
    won’t I growl a prized cacophony?

    I can be anything I want to be,
    and I choose to be me,
    the only authentic form,
    shape, person
    in this world
    that I can truly be.

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

    Previous Post: With Ease – A Swan Song – 09/08/21

    Previous Post: Poem: Refractions – 09/08/21

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  • Poem: Shade – 07/08/21

    Poem: Shade – 07/08/21

    Light and shade,
    I sweep the curtains shut,
    keeping creeping moody blues
    in mind,
    seems they’ll never stop.

    Heaving and breathing,
    huffing and a-puffing,
    affected am I this night,
    heathens nesting in the room
    from dawn until morning light.

    Struggles to create
    in a manner bright and saved,
    annoyances in the gutter,
    when will my thoughts be tamed?
    For I am ailing, but to some,
    no matter, I’m the one
    who should troupe on regardless
    of what I’m lacking in
    my personal power.

    I loathe, I hate,
    this weakness in myself,
    the inability to say no,
    wanting to please,
    keep their flashy smiles
    in a row,
    whilst I, I sit here in pain,
    distended dreams,
    dreamt in vain,
    upon the moody windowpane,
    trickles of falsified tears,
    rain trails there to be admired,
    cleansed pathways reverse-inked
    in droves.

    Light and shade calls forth
    but all that seems present
    is shade and shadows thrown,
    there is no sunrise rising,
    no beauty in my morning,
    I mourn for things which I yearned for,
    calling,
    yowling presence causes progress
    to begin stalling.

    The bracken in this bonfire
    lit by a little match,
    how small a thought can then
    become an inferno,
    developing into disgust in myself
    as of late,

    what happened to living my
    best life,
    I’m exhausted to the point
    I cannot breathe…
    stifling this shallow breath,
    for recycled air,
    I begin to heave and heave.

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

    Previous Post: Distance – 06/08/21

    Previous Post: Open Arms – 05/08/21

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  • Poem: Open Arms – 05/08/21

    Poem: Open Arms – 05/08/21

    Offering who I am,
    affirming when I can,
    positivity leads me into open arms,
    genuine, willing hands,

    they welcome me with hearts assured,
    love and circumstance, visions focussed,
    never blurred,
    shared life purposes,
    becoming more,
    a world of truth,
    so bright and pure.

    I feel the rhythm of our pulse,
    we wanderlust,
    travel in minds most,
    we stretch our desires,
    make our thoughts wise,
    ponder the true meanings of life.

    And then I’ll sit with all
    and we can say,
    that we are doing this our
    very own way,
    there are no trials, tribulations,
    only challenges and explorations,
    what does it mean to truly be human,
    a light-seeker,
    what’s my mission in this world,
    my fate to be unfurled?

    I will have to study my flight path,
    my purposes can be many,
    intuitive,
    unlimited,
    I simply have to select some
    and grow,
    my destiny is mine to behold —
    all I know is that it is vivid, sumptuous, and sunny.  

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

    Previous Post: ‘Vast Mind Dreaming’ – 03/08/21

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  • Poem: Vast Mind Dreaming – 03/08/21

    Poem: Vast Mind Dreaming – 03/08/21

    Calm and tranquil,
    peaceful and still,
    allow your mind to relax,
    impregnate itself with
    freedom and richness,
    we are filled,

    feel the vast mind-space multiply into
    pockets of light where we can
    project thoughts and generosities;
    our souls sing and ring with verbosity
    into the silky night.

    Amazing as it is, we seem complex usually,
    though in this moment, stripped away,
    barren of damage,
    we’ve healed in the silence,
    allowed ourselves to fade
    into pastel dreaming,
    the softness of approaching day,
    the excitement of what might come,
    what may.

    Relaxed and refreshed,
    because we are here and now,
    subtle intricacies in a world once unknown,
    the single point of consciousness
    which we have drawn upon,
    second to none, darling,
    referenced,
    vibrant as one.   

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

    Previous Post: ‘Elusive Sleep – 03/08/21

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  • Prose Poetry: Elusive Sleep – 03/08/21

    Prose Poetry: Elusive Sleep – 03/08/21

    Sleep. How it escapes, evades my very fingertips. When I reach out, fingernails scrabbling, hoping for a hint of rest, my aching heavy lids are calling. I am in a state of unrest, my mind is anything but heightened, I need the numbness to wash over me, repair the intensity from the day prior. I need to rest, but, I cannot, I cannot will myself into a state of slumber. Sometimes I am stubborn and don’t wish for the darkened cover, for haven in darkness, dangling from consciousness’ precipice until the web is severed, and I’m beneath, in the lake of swimming nightmares with the rest of them.

    I do not need sleep, or does sleep need me? Preposterous, this claim, it does seem. The very fabric of my mind is wearing ragged and thin, existing in a state of stunned surprise when I force my eyes wide and brighten them to take my surroundings in. Taking in their fill. But unappreciative, as a slight, because I was told sight was not urgent, improvements were required but not yet, and so, I exist on a diet of blurred visions and occasionally barked words.  

    But Sleep, my antisocial friend, who only wants to attend for four hours or five, then sweep himself away, without a word to say, leaving me groggy, thirsty, and ill at ease in the dead of night, wishing for even an extra hour that he had stayed. Quality sleep never comes, in fact, so rarely does he attend that some cruel puppet master might as will be silently phasing out the timbre. Yellow, yellow, what a beautiful colour. Yellow conjures up such a cheery disposition, a shining timbre.

    Oh, how I need sleep, before I launch into emotions, feelings, about colour association, so replete!

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Megan te Boekhorst on Unsplash

    Previous Post: Living my Best Life – 01/08/21

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  • Poem: Living my Best Life – 01/08/21

    Poem: Living my Best Life – 01/08/21

    Living the best life
    that I have known,
    rich with friendships,
    loyalty, calm and respect
    within the home,
    ladened with kindness,
    listening, understanding,
    appreciating life for
    what it’s delivering.

    I’m amazed at true contentedness,
    this feeling of warmth,
    of bliss,
    the comfortable space I’m in,
    where my heart and mind subsist,
    I have grown as a person,
    I’ve become surer of myself
    in ways I’ve not ever known,
    confidence breeds self-knowledge,
    and genuine love for myself
    and others is assured.

    I wonder not now at what
    could have been
    nor dwell on what was,
    I am grateful and gracious
    for the time I have in
    this world,
    it’s like everything is falling into place,
    a world of almost-perfection,
    meeting me with haste.

    And so, I develop,
    and work on my spirit
    some more,
    so much time in life
    yet so little,
    never a chance to complain
    or be bored,
    I appreciate everything I’ve been given,
    and everything that’s coming
    my way,
    I will replenish my soul,
    my life,
    with truest brightness
    every day.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Welcome Visitors’ – 31/07/21

    Previous Post: ‘Morning Walks’ – 28/07/21

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  • Poem: Morning Walks – 30/07/21

    Poem: Morning Walks – 30/07/21

    Horizon stretches so far away
    early in the morning,
    sunlight drenches, beckons,
    welcoming with fingertips
    gentle and knowing,

    strokes of sunshine,
    pristine perfection,
    our hearts pound as
    upon the pavement
    our pattering feet move,
    reaching our goal,
    though it matters not so much now
    as the bonding time does,
    this is so very true.

    My eyes dance upon the
    scene before us,
    pathway, passing neighbours,
    fluffy companions,
    smiles or avoidance?

    Masks may hide greetings
    but they cannot shield the
    glimmer and shine within eyes,
    and while the present climate may have
    crushed some from wanting to
    pass our forms,
    we know they’re practicing safety
    and looking after us and themselves.

    Still, I can’t help but feel a
    brushing off sometimes,
    it’s okay,
    if they’re afraid,
    we know the drill.

    Sometimes we cannot smile,
    but inside our hearts are
    grateful for being allowed out,
    to laugh and chat with each other,
    discuss our troubles and blessings with
    one another.

    The occasional Good morning! or
    brightened set of eyes
    are something to look forward to,
    inside we know that eventually
    the fear within the hearts of others
    will fade away.

    These days,
    these days, it’s different,
    though, like before,
    with time,
    it will return to the same.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Strive’ – 28/07/21

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  • Poem: Strive – 28/07/21

    Poem: Strive – 28/07/21

    Consciousness creates change
    as I travel down a new path,
    my negative thoughts alter themselves,
    a turning point, a fork in the road,
    I do not beg to ask,
    consciousness is what creates our reality,
    I become what I think about, the most,
    my reflections flash as I stare into a clearing pond,
    eyes of goldfish bulge and bond,
    their gaze adjoins with mine,
    their forms start to bob,
    they rise for more,
    they learn to trust,
    a human with gentleness for them as one.

    I will never reach a point
    where I’m wholly complete,
    to finish this existence early,
    why, a thought ever so dreary,
    never having to reach for improvements,
    never again experiencing eternal growth,
    manifesting more,
    more,
    aligning my journey is required,
    to become in a way I’ve never known.

    While I am enough and enough is
    what I shall perhaps remain,  
    understanding the rise and fall of my life
    in parts and in its entirety,
    manifesting, creating,
    knowing,
    differences yet still the same,
    using the negative moments that allow me
    to know what is unwanted,
    and what can be improved on to rise forth,
    and grasp hold tightly, so firmly, upon this ride,
    a personal state of feeling so utterly divine.

    I will strive to feel good no matter what,
    whatever the situation or travesty,
    I will distract myself from pains and lack of
    positive source wholly and knowingly,
    altering my judgement,
    my anger and sadness from me,
    focus on the future,
    on all things possessing positivity.

    There is much work to be done,
    I acknowledge this myself,
    so much time has been spent
    wrecking myself,
    I need to undo the harm,
    backtrack the repeated mistakes,
    unravel the consciousness
    and become more, more,
    like I’ve tried to,
    and am trying to,
    as of late.

    A picture is worth more than I can currently accommodate.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Javier Allegue Barros on Unsplash

    Previous Post: ‘Flushed Magnolias’ – 28/07/21

    Previous Post: ‘Rows of Rosies’ – 26/07/21

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  • Poem: Flushed Magnolias – 28/07/21

    Poem: Flushed Magnolias – 28/07/21

    the strength within is something which
    must be seen,
    peel away those layers,
    let us view within,
    the armour, so thickly wrought,
    over years of abuse and mockery,
    self-taught, self-taught.

    darling, it’s time to make that move,
    inhabit a better place,
    wipe away your gloom,
    shine bright unto another day
    and then the next,
    your armour always protects,
    come what may.

    I know, I know, sweetheart,
    that at times it hurts,
    recalling that past behaviour,
    sour-filled words,
    you didn’t speak kindly to yourself,
    you spoke down to your ego,
    denigrated your heart,
    and at times, you tore yourself apart,

    but now, you can reach forth,
    aim for the stars,
    show that strength within that
    came with truth, experience,
    and the strongest of arms.

    know this, darling,
    my sweetheart,
    the yearning
    for more, from life,
    from your world,
    the pain is done,
     
    watch as your kingdom will come,
    truth be told the errors of self-talk
    will come undone,
    and your language will become fluent
    with self-love.

    it’s time to breathe freely,
    no encumbered breaths,
    infant-milky scent,
    from innocence you have grown,
    and into more, a strong woman
    you have become,

    in fact, shed that armour,
    for its strength has become a
    part of you,
    there’s no need for chainmail
    or steel layers
    when life’s become more peaceful,
    beautiful,
    more spiritual
    than a vase of flushed magnolias.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by photos_by_ginny from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Rows of Rosies’ – 26/07/21

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