Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: blogging

  • 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: fifty shades of tears (Instagram prompt) – 16/06/22

    Fifty shades of tears

    and sixty shades of fear

    a hundred thousand pounding heartbeats

    a million yearning fingers clawing 

    dragging each another near.

    She does not understand

    nor accept the desire of theirs

    but her aching, manic thoughts so frantic 

    convolutions near, and…

    defensively, besmirching names of others

    who strolled past or within her way,

    she is determined to change, alter

    she wishes not to bother with current affray

    for this nonsense must be laid to rest

    the desire of others so fabricated 

    based on her visual alterations,

    the penny need not drop,

    she’s already aware of the situation 

    she shall not be loved only for her shell,

    accept her on both sunny days and storms, 

    and during explosive personal hells,

    she’s a layered scene

    so many levels to explore and delve

    surprised or not, overwhelmed or underwhelmed. 

    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
    Artwork: KELLEPICS on Pixabay

    Author’s note: This was written for “fifty shades of tears” from June prompts by @bruisedwaye on Instagram. 🙂

  • 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: envious ivy – 06/05/22

    poem: envious ivy – 06/05/22

    Envious ivy trails round

    rotten doors,

    entranceways metamorphic

    shapeshifting then reality restored,

    what lies behind the

    reckoning of Time,

    a conundrum, in fact,

    sheer scope, Divine.

    What cause cataclysmic

    chasms to collide,

    immediately doubling or tripling

    in size?

    Gargantuan are these sinkholes,

    blackholes laid in store

    as winding ivy bends

    and twists,

    collectively, more.

    Soon woven are these

    green weaves,

    passing moments,

    enveloping energies,

    flowering, berry-rich moments,

    envy calls as ivy trails

    devotees show, shine,

    true richness delves,

    the party to which

    we are already speaking,

    river-rich mud,

    plaintively reaching.

    And clear away,

    away, the thicket of

    desolate ivy

    leave none in store.

    The truth to speak is passion,

    enriched with something

    quietly precious,

    can you feel exhilaration

    grow and soar?

    @laurenm.hancock

    (c) Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Photo from Pixabay.

    #poem #poetry #poems #poetryprompts

  • poem: rainbow tears

    poem: rainbow tears

    rainbow tears stream from crystal eyes
    the making, the madness,
    of where I’m 
    wonderful and wise
    then empty and sad 
    these colours are thus grey
    but rainbow tears of happiness 
    can still linger for another day. 

    the different moods, different faces which 
    spring forth from within
    I now embrace them 
    I welcome them
    I allow them to be seen 
    because it is in moments of darkness
    of dejection and bleakness 
    that my rainbow tears give themselves away
    they are in comparison to my shadows 
    in which bitterness or negativity 
    can themselves truly lay.

    rainbow tears may stream down my face
    my cheeks trailing with colourful paths 
    so brightly placed
    but their shades are so welcome
    a mixture of hope, sadness and soul,
    of joy and reverence
    to me these tears shall share what the 
    world needs to know,
    what tales should be revealed and cast
    no longer best kept close to the soul.

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

    Image from Pexels.

    This poem was inspired by a prompt by @soulful_poetry_from_the_heart on Instagram, and the prompt I chose was “Rainbow tears”. Thank you to Hiya for her prompts. Please visit her Instagram for her beautiful, evocative poetry. 🙂
    and please visit my Instagram @laurenm.hancock if you’d like to see more of my poetry and my past artworks and more.

  • 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: falling, falling – 03/04/22

    Prompts used:

    • Dearest Heart, I’m falling apart
    • My soul burns
    • Forlorn flames

    Title: falling, falling
    by Lauren M. Hancock

    My dearest heart I am
    falling
    apart
    I turn and burn,
    my soul is engulfed by the
    wandering cruel actions,
    my soul, it speaks, it shrieks,
    my spirit rises forth

    away from the gloom
    I fall apart
    floating, into pieces,
    ashes fly high and away,
    my darling heart watch me
    as I fall apart,
    my soul is destroyed.

    I wanted this but I am not of
    sound mind,
    the intricacies which arise
    when one splits pieces
    which are meant to remain whole,
    alive,
    spectacular though this is,
    like a fireworks display I watch my chakras
    break into shattered wheels of light
    brightening the sights for someone else
    who wishes to view a colourful plight.

    Shall I dance away the pain, dear lover?
    Forgetting that my happiness, my heart and its feelings
    do not bother,
    how far shall I go to be truly loved?
    Not by another but by myself,
    to stop this nonsense cremation I first need to
    extract my inner poison.

    But it is long gone, I’ve sucked it clean from my veins,
    watch me, watch me work at this prospect,
    lest we find the pathway leads to a garden’s winding path,
    I explore it in vain.

    forlorn flames then lick at my calves,
    my ankles my inner thighs, soft flesh treated, imbued,
    I’m nobody’s sea baby anymore,
    sink those ashes
    silt and soul-binding,
    and rise forevermore,
    myself, my inner love,
    will never disband,
    entwined forevermore.
    @laurenmhancock
    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
    Artwork by Alice Alinari on Pixabay

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

    micropoem: timing is nigh – 01/04/22

  • poem: universal aura – 24/03/22

    poem: universal aura – 24/03/22

    The universal white light surrounds me, an ethereal net, damp, floaty cloud so soft I bounce into, not against it… freeform, flow, billowy nature’s growth, it is like an extra being within the room, some giant, invisible, quietly huffing and puffing, he smiles as he cloaks my aura, now no longer a sunny yellow disposition, but made into a vagrant’s imposition…

    I am now unwelcome in this land, my journey blocked pathways, no obvious pillowed dreams.

    I silently make my wishes known, my love must be acknowledged, for the other, feelings owned, the waves within my mind and being speak of delicate imperfection. We wrangle in motion, arms flailing, tongues lashing, and I realise, without an understanding, what on earth has happened, I am seen only as a bother that must be cleanly slid away, beneath the rug, swept under, and this giant ghost of an aura which surrounds me now was employed by the best of them, a master in charge, something, someone from on high.

    I cannot determine his leader though, the degenerative nature still swims in his intent, and I know I must rid myself of this vagrant label before I become too spent. Enough of these games, I shrilly call to myself, and he, wherever his head and ears to register might be. A cloud of fluff is now not that exciting to see…

    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
    Artwork by KELLEPICS on Pixabay

  • poem: magic – 23/03/22

    poem: magic – 23/03/22

    dowsing the crystals with illustrious mayhem
    the tainted air of dragon’s breath, poison,
    enlightening myself to the treasures of the planet,
    the powers deep within me,
    I need not lace melodies from counterparts,
    I need not stunt my heart with mimicry,
    hidden behind obscure masks,
    no, there is strength in being myself,
    knowing, learning, stronghold,
    resilience from waking hour to the magical twelfth.

    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Karen_Nadine on Pixabay,