Tag: blogging

  • Poem: Refractions – 09/08/21

    Poem: Refractions – 09/08/21

    The growling primal fear
    which rears its head
    dances its eyes over our
    circumstance,
    and in a plethora of
    understanding
    it wisely retreats into
    the distance,
    pillars surround us
    as petals, thrown,
    fall from invisible hands.

    The area we find ourselves in
    beckons to outsiders
    near and far,
    cajoling them,
    calling them in,
    to come join
    the party,
    if one could call
    it this,
    we are prisms within
    shafts of light,
    sensing deep within.

    And so, we carry on,
    dispel any negativity,
    growth is a factor,
    plurals multiply,
    lace-widths of sin
    and unroll do these errors from past, future and
    unknowns,
    our history determines
    how much we want  
    others to know.

    So, wary are we,
    these refractions dance so thin,
    like slicing daggers into
    unwanted entities,
    our lovers hear and own
    everything that shouldn’t
    be seen,
    as though thickets,
    deep brush,
    slash, gash, branches
    not so tough,
    do and say are different things,
    but results matter most,
    is what some might say.

    Thinning out,
    excavating memories of time,
    white-hot circumstance,
    disallowing swallows flighty times,
    drift away from that sea
    that calls and calls,
    deep swells for you,
    and for me – well,
    I’m tackle what I am given,
    arrivederchi.

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

    Previous Post: Shade – 07/08/21

    Previous Post: Rose – 07/08/21

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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: Rose – 07/08/21

    Poem: Rose – 07/08/21

    What we are and what we feel are
    two different concepts,
    notions I need to feel,
    I watch from within as thoughts build and layers
    harden then peel
    like ancient flakes of house paint decorating
    that life we accepted and treasured within,
    I know through deep understanding
    that each flake tells a story,
    it’s witnessed so much of life
    to be felt, heard, and seen.

    What I feel is a blossoming,
    a wafting rose developing,
    from a tiny elaborate bud into
    much,
    much more,
    complexities created,
    so much in store,

    her fragrance is intoxicating,
    I do not yearn for anything but her
    in the morning,
    a pin-pricking, her warning,
    to be gentle with her,
    patience never stalling.

    A petal drops –
    by goodness, what a shame,
    her story is unfolding,
    but losing beauty? –
    should the ache in my heart refrain?
    Because it is with dying that she is
    breathing life,
    to live is to expire,
    but to experience is proof of internal fire.

    And her flames are astounding,
    she’s alive, so vivid now,
    effervescent, glowing
    the flakes of paint fall into an inferno,
    fuelling her understanding
    that to live is to capture and incinerate
    what the world deems as beauty,
    there’s much more to her presence,
    behind there is more than a duty,
    it’s a requirement fulfilled morally.

    And it is with experience that she
    continues to grow,
    her form is not lopped,
    stunted growth,
    to entertain others with her vision,
    with her dangerous thorns
    as protection,
    for her wonder in the morning
    and beyond,
    we think, we feel,
    we consider what she does,
    what notions there are to accept,
    as necessary?

    Sometimes it’s required that our awareness
    is measured,
    and our hearts, oh, our hearts,
    must begin to beat harder,
    no option for slowing,
    no option for stalling,
    they should continue to beat fiercely,
    uncontrollably.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Meghan Schiereck on Unsplash


    Previous Post: Distance – 06/08/21

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  • Poem: Distance – 06/08/21

    Poem: Distance – 06/08/21

    the distance between myself and the south side
    of that road,
    the longest path I’m sure some have
    ever known,
    try to tiptoe along the lane,
    whisper under breath,
    assertions born tame,
    but they are still valid,
    present they be,
    a jolt, a justification seems questionable,
    but in the end, both visions and truth
    are vividly seen as the same.

    and now, as I wander down
    the evergreens which line
    the pavement, luscious trees,
    ever beautiful, ever seen,
    flourishing, blossoming,
    while I, I circumspect,
    within there is much to
    be seen.

    what to view? you might wonder,
    as I physically wander, whilst I myself wonder,
    there seems not much, but there is
    too much to ponder,
    I must make allowances,
    the membrane of my mind is
    calling for something more,
    to comprehend, from yonder,
    what’s awaiting me,
    what’s in store?

    let me see what there is to gain
    from dancing through rapid-cycling
    thought trains,
    take a ride on the great red caboose,
    the trajectory, its path,
    there is much to transport,
    have I the capacity, mental fuel?
    why, of course I do.

    and as I hop aboard this vehicular entity,
    parading around the south side with
    ridiculous ease,
    I no longer wonder,
    and damned will I be to wander,
    when I can take the heights of self-indulgence
    to an nth degree,
    carry it around with me

    with great honour.

    and prismatic will that be,
    rainbow glow, hues,
    spectacularly,
    I’m not afraid to show a glimmer,
    a glittering
    fantastically,
    ride those streams of consciousness,
    bare the nudity that comes with
    baring one’s soul freely.

    there’s no ego,
    no arrogance,
    when all I wanted
    was to share a window within.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Caleb Jones on Unsplash

    Previous Post: ‘Open Arms’ – 05/08/21

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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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  • The Aesthete Blogger Award!

    The Aesthete Blogger Award!

    Talented, uplifting and inspiring poet, Grace from Grace of the Sun recently nominated me for this blogger’s award! Thank you very much for thinking of me, Grace, I’m incredibly humbled by your nomination. I love her poetry for it is thought-provoking, inspiring, full of positivity, and always tells a captivating story. Please check out her blog and enjoy her creations for yourself!

    Rules:-

    • Use the official logo/graphic of the award and display it on your blog.
    • List the rules.
    • Show some love to the one who nominated you!
    • Mention the creator — Ashmita at the Fictional Journal —  and link it back to the original post.
    • Tell me a something about this world that you admire.
    • What is your favourite form of creativity?
    • Nominate 7 lovely people and notify them by commenting on their posts; spread some love!
    • Ask your nominees 4 questions.
    • Share something you created. (can be anything!)

    Q. Tell me something about this world that you admire.

    I admire the resilience of the human spirit, the rebounding nature and our ability to band together and heal during the worst of times. In particular, I refer to my parents and our family during a particularly tough period in our lives last year and how we coped with it. We went through a lot together and grew into a stronger family unit due to our experiences. We learned to love and care for one another even more than we had previously. From pain grew strength and personal strength, and close-knit ties drawn together even firmer.

    Q. What is your favourite form of creativity?

    Poetry, poetry, poetry! And playing the violin. I also enjoy creating art when I am in the particular headspace to be artistic with bright colours.

    Grace’s Questions!

    1. If you had to move to another place, where would you go?

      I wouldn’t move anywhere else at this stage. I love where I am, and I am a creature of habit. However, if I were to select somewhere to temporarily relocate, perhaps somewhere near the beach during autumn or spring, so I could enjoy the fresh breeze without the overt heat.

    2. If you met your future self, what would you ask?

      “Are you happy with how you lived your life? What are your highlights, and what would you have changed?”

    3. What is the best advice you have received?

      Be yourself and don’t be afraid to be assertive in this life.

    4. Who has had the biggest influence in your life?

      My mother and father. Mum and I are very close, she supports my creative endeavours, listens to my poetry often, and provides the support for me to bounce my ideas off when I need an extra opinion. Similarly too, the quiet strength of my father provides me stability and grounding, and a love spoken not only necessarily in words but through his presence and thoughtful actions.


    Something I created:

    my nominees:

    Jeff

    We Are Karma

    Poet of the Light

    Sacha

    Stephen

    Joy

    elancharan


    My Questions:

    1. What is it that most inspires you to write?
    2. Would you alter a pivotal moment in your life that would alter your life to a completely different path or remain on your current path of life?
    3. What is your most treasured memory?
    4. What is an achievement you are proud of?

      Thank you once again to Grace for this nomination and thank you to Ashmita for creating this award!

  • Poem: Seems As Though – 31/05/21

    Poem: Seems As Though – 31/05/21

    It seems as though my presence
    isn’t viewed as a present,
    but rather an unwanted hindrance –
    I’ll vacate the present premises.

    No longer take up space
    within the mind,
    I will walk away with zeal off to a space
    where my company’s wanted,
    with enjoyment and laughter
    again easy to find.

    It’s not difficult to feel
    the arisen tension melting away,
    when I can distance myself from
    the words and blame
    from another,
    it is their argument’s sake.

    Funny how repeat-offending
    goes by the book,
    when moral constructs broke,
    and rule-breaking occurred
    without a second look,

    Parade all the upsets which
    speak unto thy soul,
    but I won’t catch hold,
    carry the wind of it,
    now leaves

    watch the wind wash,
    autumn hues
    drift and fall.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Leandro De Carvalho from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum’ – 30/05/21

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  • Taking a Small Break from the Blog

    Taking a Small Break from the Blog

    To all my lovely readers,

    I just wanted to let you all know I will be taking a break from my blog for a little while. Thank you for reading my posts. I will return soon. I am unable to completely put my all into my posts lately due to unforeseen events in my life, so I feel it’s best to take some time out. I will miss reading all of your work and keeping up to date with everyone’s posts!

    I will see you very soon.

    All my love,

    Lauren

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