Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: consciousness

  • Poem: Weeping Willow – 25/08/21

    Poem: Weeping Willow – 25/08/21

    Weeping willow reminds me
    of stormy challenges,
    of riotous heart poundings,
    of emotional damages.

    Weeping willow, fretting leaves,
    gives me a sense of hope,
    her bent back fingers
    laze,
    but within her, their pathway I know,

    like me, like you,
    as her,
    she represents such harmony
    within our souls
    there’s nothing raw nor taut
    if we’ve accepted that
    this world occasionally brings storms,
    and challenges and tribulations,
    crashing thunder, frightful thunder
    within our scope,
    within the pain, the suffering,
    the madness,
    we. are. able. to. cope.

    My weeping willow,
    garden feat’
    enlivens me,
    when she shows me that
    acceptance of turmoil is right,

    she’s there shrouding in the
    dead of night,
    even if I ask her if new, bold,
    resilience is right,
    I know, down to the last detail,
    every leaf, every length,
    what is mighty,
    being strong, fruitful,
    in this life.

    Fingers dragging
    but perception is
    calm, and the forecast
    is bright.

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

    Previous Post: Writer’s Blocked – 23/08/21

    Previous Post: Boldness – 24/08/21

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  • Micropoetry: Boldness – 24/08/21

    Micropoetry: Boldness – 24/08/21

    Be not bitter nor jaded
    but grateful, sublime
    is this life we are living
    if we don’t allow precious time
    to pass by, unrecognised
    unwanted,
    ambiguous truths be told,
    live a metamorphosis while
    your inner beauty becomes,
    be brave, take the reins,
    be bold.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Writer’s Blocked – 23/08/21

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  • Poem: Bright – 21/08/21

    Poem: Bright – 21/08/21

    Nothing to be depressed about,
    so positive,
    so joyous – so free,
    encumbered paths we could say
    but ecstatic I choose to be,
    it’s about which side to view
    and walk alongside Life,
    I could pinpoint, acknowledge,
    tiny points of strife,
    elaborate,
    with magnitude,
    some attitude filled with,
    rife,
    with annoyance, with irritation,
    or feelings of ‘discrimination’.

    But the truth is I’m blessed
    to be here, well and breathing,
    the strength, resilience, in
    myself and others I am seeing,
    I could list all that’s here for us,
    right and lasting,
    lingering,
    hope, especially,
    is something I am carrying.

    I am grateful for my health,
    my family, my dear friendships,
    my comforts, and deep love,
    Life’s material things,
    those which bring comfort,
    music, sound, paint,
    art, colours, company combine,
    I don’t chose to inhabit positivity —
    instead it’s bred within me.

    Cast aside, long ago,
    the feelings of downbeat,
    downtrodden,
    the ‘world’s against me’s’,
    I didn’t need to be like that,
    to live like that,
    it was so stifling,
    couldn’t breathe.

    Negativity can suck one into
    its slimy, vicious grasp,
    no enlightenment within,
    to exist then – what a task.

    Turned about face to the sun,
    arms thrown open,
    embrace that amazing warmth,
    while I could find saddening points to exist upon,
    I’ve decided instead to be
    bright, bright, bright,
    radiance fills my lark-song.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Adore – 20/08/21
    Previous Post: Viewing Me – 19/08/21

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  • Poem: Welcoming Humanity – 17/08/21

    Poem: Welcoming Humanity – 17/08/21

    I lived a dream
    so raw, impure,
    and now it seems
    my path’s demure.

    Remaining chaste,
    living only for good,
    giving to the common man and woman
    like I know I should.

    Smiles all around,
    humble lips and ears,
    braggart not,
    enlightening my path
    as I resurrect it,

    my journey as I learn it
    I correct it,
    I accomplish some of my finest
    whilst living life in earnest.

    Ask me not of
    prior names,
    accolades nor
    feigned dames,

    no time assured
    from then to now,
    ask me not,
    for I won’t tell
    nor frown!

    Undoing that which
    needed to die,
    needles prickling
    where sleepin’ dogs lie,
    leave the past,
    search the present with haste,
    tomorrow is but a date,
    cement my fate!

    I can rest assured
    that future truths
    will be enriched with
    bounty of beauty,
    experiences willed,
    impassioned by thy Source,
    my energy thrives and lives,
    peace be unto
    this urchin, my sins
    I decided to forgive.

    Prior memories don’t last,
    I’m thankful to not recall,
    all in all
    I’m living, breathing
    my all,

    my search for myself,
    and my treasured path,
    with warmth,
    humanity is finally welcoming me,
    great love at last.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Poetry Collaboration by Amber and Lauren M. Hancock – Chrysalis of Hope – 16/08/21

    Previous Post: ‘Tween Hearts – 15/08/21

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  • Poetry Collaboration by Amber and Lauren M. Hancock – Chrysalis of Hope – 16/08/21

    Poetry Collaboration by Amber and Lauren M. Hancock – Chrysalis of Hope – 16/08/21

    Nestled in the womb of creation,
    perils face the existence of human civilisation;
    birthing much chaos and delirium, 

    unknowingly, we settle in,
    unaware of what our future both promises 
    and what it may bring,

    ever-open hands reach for warmth
    outside our hollows,
    to worldly next-of-kin.

    Hope bears feathers, perched in soul,
    humming a frequency beyond words;
    the eternal cacophony gifting gold from the unknowns,

    upon this hope we glide,
    and then, as though, now sliding into
    pirouettes with symphonic style,

    the treasure bears more than we believed
    able to be delivered,
    let us adore these with calming eyes,

    ecstatic hands, while feathers drift, softly land,
    vivid types of wisdom only known to
    enlightened woman and man.

    The imprinted consciousness
    upon the soothed clean conscience 
    of our astral journeying pillows

    embodies the archaic knowledge 
    of the ancients whose remedies 
    and generational lineage lays

    patiently in hibernation for the
    pivotal metamorphosis of the spiritual development 
    of man amongst turmoil of the cyclical yugas.

    In chrysalis, we lay,
    pods enclosed with passion, with verve,
    growing, minutely, each passing day,

    fragments becoming whole,
    engorging ourselves, we know that when
    we enlarge our intentions, and mend and heave hearts,

    there is no matter in internalising
    this primordial knowledge
    other than understanding we are coming to a close,

    and still the beginnings, unknown,
    our subconscious thread speaks of moments,
    instances, which enlighten even if we do not fully attend,

    but it is with innate knowing,
    with peace and passion,
    that hopefulness and truth breathe as a whole.

    Copyright © 2021 Dios Raw and Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    – By Amber (Dios-Raw) and Lauren (Lauren M. Hancock)

    Previous Post: ‘Tween Hearts – 15/08/21

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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: With Ease – A Swan Song – 09/08/21

    Poem: With Ease – A Swan Song – 09/08/21

    Living for the momentum and
    living for the dream,
    thoughts tossed,
    bruised and broken,
    living despite ill feeling.

    The circumstances are these:
    I do not taunt, I do not tease,
    I live above and beyond,
    how I experience the world,
    predication, I know it, for these.

    Warble yet, my dear swan,
    gangly neck though thee has,
    I do not know, do not know,
    whether the games played,
    stone’s thrown,
    will seriously cause another to
    come undone,
    thoughts expelled,
    contemplative or mad.

    The truth, the fact of the matter is,
    I’m rather like my own swan of truth,
    interweaving elegance and wings which flap
    with ease,
    bright glide and there’s no other
    than that another,
    who knows of my true crazy patterns
    they’re lived, so breathed,
    within, deep personal power.

    For it is with fluidity, with comfortability,
    that I have been allowed to define,
    contemplation, rumination, no stagnation,
    progress within this virulent nation,
    why, is this not a sight for sorry eyes?

    Treasuring this life as mine,
    gracious though precious be,
    I am grateful for my life situation,
    so much is calling unto me.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Refractions – 09/08/21

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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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