Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: blogging

  • How to right the path of inhabitable processes?

    How to right the path of inhabitable processes

    Undo the damage during manic and psychotic catharsis

    Lay a shoulder on the gloom of my dear shoulder

    Which shoulders the weight of sharp words paranoia then inevitable inertia

    I can’t undo undo

    But I can address the well meant template

    Explain I am never usually, well, in this way

    I floss I floss in the river of gloom

    Now hiding in moments

    Adverbs of deep hushed blue

    Most mightn’t understand

    But I shouldn’t need to detail further processes

    Tektites and andromorohirs,

    good omens never ceased, no apparition.

    No apparitions indeed. Yet growing weary we remain steadfast

    This birthday suit we carry

    And in that moment my brain mind shifts

    Alchemy the lure permit the transformation to occur.

    (C) 2022 Lauren M Hancock. All rights reserved.

    .

  • Frustrated: 15/01/22

    Frustrated: 15/01/22

    I over the melodramatics
    The bullshit sycophantic
    the apparent rambling lunatics
    whom do not know how to please themselves without ease
    their problems can be ours
    But I’m sick of being helpful divine whose put down
    I will launch a grenade and set myself alight
    I will smile as I dance with the powder bees
    waxing with the moon and his counterpart Saturn with his stars
    up in arms we will feel as we counteract their charms
    for they have none they are not desired to be
    I will annihilate the circumstances if I really want to leave
    The power in their cracked skulls as I want to want to be
    sweet immolation directing the bees
    spread her thighs that desirous queen bee
    and watch her misogynistic demise in her nightmarish dreams.
    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.

  • Poem stream: premonition – 31/12/21

    Poem stream: premonition – 31/12/21

    I dance with momentous energy
    flying through the silver screen
    calling to thee and welcoming, see
    the seer within me drives to flee

    and wanton moments desirous times
    fly and wind designing mine
    and I realise the calling the calling of the designated stalling
    is in the horses radiance
    the unicorns fallings

    she understands knows the truth is at hand
    unravelling the dictations of the universe
    control shift COMMAND

    the crystals reflecting your flash is as smooth

    as the cerulean blue in my heart for you
    but darling see this moment,
    this tirade this flight this path and know that I am the one for you
    I am the one who calls with truth
    I am the one being stalked sold for you
    because, because the world
    is not right without our charms
    refresh the page,
    anew.
    (31/12/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

  • Poem: deviation – 29/12/21

    Poem: deviation – 29/12/21

    the times are confusing my dear
    I stare him down in the face
    commonplace, commonplace? Perplexed, no, this world can be full of hate.
    there are jerusalems and narnias and picturesque scenes and wild wild cars
    the darkness darkness speaks to us
    while the light within calls to her

    she speaks in riddles and rhymes
    envelopes the times
    the signs the whines the styles keep trickling into their den
    but the foxes they won’t make amends
    and the wolves they call to them
    they chuckle to themselves, those gods,
    those cryptologists whom seek:
    while we are up in arms.

    we clear the courses,
    delicately, and with charms.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

  • Poem: chosen tapestry – 25/12/21

    Poem: chosen tapestry – 25/12/21

    I smile to myself for I see true potential in all
    the kings and the queens the flowers and the bees
    the people who epitomise the opening of hearts
    I can now see
    I connect with others in differing ways
    but each encounter each word smile breath
    does amaze
    I feel the human spirit sing
    I am not afraid to live on the edge
    tread the thread
    live laugh learn
    and finding out my personal truths

    I need to do what is meant to be
    what has already been seen
    in the tapestry of God
    up in His arms he smiles benevolently upon
    the woven garb he wears and eyes lower toward me
    proudly with an attitude so knowingly
    He loves me just as he loves the rest of the world
    and enables me to heal my wings with others’ love and time
    and now I can gently rise
    increment by feather-step and tip
    I breathe the atmosphere in
    wondrous setting no more stagnant stolen feeling
    I am not confused I am just healing
    loving and being
    this world I am embracing.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Damian Markutt on Unsplash

    Previous Post: – delirium -22/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram: @laurenm.hancock

    This post ‘chosen tapestry’ first appeared on Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.

    Merry Christmas to all, have a wonderful day with friends and family! ❤ 🙂 – Lauren




  • Poem: delirium -22/12/21

  • poem: wonder – 20/12/21

    poem: wonder – 20/12/21

    I don’t wonder about the beauty of the moonlight
    I never question the luminosity of the stars
    what they mean when they’re together
    burning up in arms
    I don’t want to see them fall shoot across the sky
    because they’re already perfection in stationary
    twinkling searing being
    diamonds slicing the serenity of my eyes as I gaze  
    into the epiphanies of my solar tides
    I can be without existing so it seems
    in this world, creation of myself
    affirmations I use as treatment
    my words treasure
    the ephemeral nights lit by haunting future days
    I sing for my sanity
    I rise for my delirium
    I call to the moon for his approval
    but he speaks not
    simply shines fortuitously
    with serenity
    a kind of all-knowing telling me that
    everything is going to be as I desire
    as I hope for
    this coming hour I will feel the tides
    the shifting within the voids of the night
    and dance within the intents –
    my soul utters  
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image credit: Canva

    previous Post: i will wait – 19/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram: @laurenm.hancock


  • Poem: i will wait – 19/12/21

    Poem: i will wait – 19/12/21

    I wait for that moment when hearts will rise and beauty
    will glisten in both sets of eyes
    watching from afar away from my form
    I feel subtleties stiffen news break soft damn

    hands held in manner of peaked prism
    saying darling what you are thinking
    and I smile with little spurts of healing
    like a volcano rushes with ominous pace
    it travels there
    weaving and styling in its sleek attitude

    he shows that there is not barrenness there
    his intent I can always taste
    as though thick molasses
    syrupy tempting goodness

    knowing to have it is not worth it
    but the memory of the taste, well,
    I cannot dress myself the feeling
    the dirtiness of the heady experience,

    living with his intentions upon my back
    I cannot help but know there’ll be many
    more of them and I cannot help
    cannot detail the anger which comes
    from being managed

    so
    this magma bearer
    can move on
    unlock that pick
    that love-locket along the creek’s bridge
    we tried friendship before
    really did
    like vapour evaporates so easily
    there dissipated our love .    
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Ryan Moreno on Unsplash

    previous Post: micropoem: authentic magic – 18/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Insta: @laurenm.hancock

    This post ‘i will wait’ first appeared on Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.

  • 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: wreathed, perpetually – 14/12/21

    Poem: wreathed, perpetually – 14/12/21

    wreath me with the sadness that you could
    no longer carry
    battle heavy battle weary,
    I will shoulder the metaphoric that ate at your spirit
    entranced with the brightness of the airy and sycophantic
    I smile, for I will carry on this legacy in a different way
    I will revitalise the mourning into celebrations set
    for a glorious day
    I will understand that the need to be free and wild
    reside on the very same occasion,
    instant are potent notions, understandings
    but, as confusions that will weigh down your heart
    as innocent mirth fills my soul
    and I glance down
    at the soil where I buried those sunflower seeds
    with sunshine water and smiles
    I gave them my emotions I gave them my all and now the wreath I disrobe
    take away that layer that protected me
    brown-green pine needles, Christmassy armour
    and I remember with sadness how I felt
    recalling that other
    that moment when I carried heartache almost eternally
    and felt that suffering (suffering) as I stiffened with vile intent
    of precarious ascent
    my chest rises my chest heaves
    my mind begs for insistence
    to leave leave leave this scene
    I don’t need to view your final resting place
    I don’t need to understand why you fled my life
    my state
    and though you still exist, and elsewhere live
    it’s as though you are dead to me
    I carry your wreath
    I yield all your suffering
    I beg for you to remember
    always remember me
    that love you perpetually felt from
    innocent naive me.  
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    (13/12/21) 
    Photo by Teodora Popa Photographer on Unsplash

    Previous Post: reflection – 13/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Insta: @laurenm.hancock

    This post ‘Wreathed Perpetually’ first appeared on Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.