She speaks of song and arpeggiated reach
twittering ascension,
her duty to self is to soar into a land of
quiet achievement
obtained with personal praise
self-talk of encouragement
no derision
raised tones should have no home
on a pathway of momentum
gentle positivity will grow.
© 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
Image by JillWellington on Pixabay
There exists within, a quiet space
Where I can gently rest
I lay my head upon my pillows
Feel downy tenderness
I lose myself in unconscious flow
Need not be concerned about those who won’t listen
I am rising high and low
And into a section of
My mind
A portion
Where it’s comforting and centring
I’m not censored
My thoughts ripple
I watch them segmented and whole
They miraculously unwind.
© 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
Image by tangiao on Pixabay
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
When they try to diminish you
stop you from expressing what is within you
smile and be positive
ignoring their jibes and
obvious attack towards you
there is no point in acknowledging the intent
the internet is full of people like these
there are many many others
with hearts heaven sent
focus on these beings
those with kind natures
who don’t need to be stars of the show
the battle the others waged,
there is no time nor place
for them with me
this I inherently know.
© 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.
Photo: pixel2013 on Pixabay
This was written for the prompt “Wings of wonder” from @writersaroundtheworld, hosted by @whitepurplezainu.
— Mysterious Way —
My eyes scan the skies
wings of wonder carry me
away from demise after demise
the positives multiply
enriched with courage
dismissed is fear and fright.
Impending light then streams
source reaches forth to me
a calming presence lights my face
my complexion is alabaster
glowing to be seen.
With wings of wonder
I can explore once-gloom
now resplendent enlightenment
fulfils my mental space
my very own private room
this is not to say that there is
no worry, no suffering, nor any dismay
but the pathways through these
are carved and tamed in a
method that suits me
in my own mysterious way.
@laurenm.hancock
© 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.
Artwork by 18796645 on Pixabay
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. 🙂
a sunrise of theories
I walk a path surrounded by foliage
shrubbery lines the endless mileage
and encounter do I some things grand and fantastic
many questions now come from this querent
bold and bombastic
flowers filled with fragrance
bow their heads to my queries
I suddenly have, about life
all these convoluted theories
about what causes this
or leads on from such and that
these riddles take myself
away from fiction versus facts
my eyes search the skies
scintillating and scarlet
this sunrise or sunset
whatever, whichever, which,
I will choose to have it
for before the beauty of the sun
once dormant now exhilarating
and so young
I can settle my thoughts
quietly, meditatively
little need for thoughts to hesitate or run.
@laurenm.hancock
© Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
Images from Pixabay
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.
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
Angelic breeze tickles my nose
the serenity and beauty of what I know
Nothing is more perfect than the moment of now
Embracing this fact
Intuitively is how
Wandering in the scope of the breathless view
amazing is the habit, admiringly renewed
understanding the intent,
why, Beauty, there’s a sum,
a knowing, sheer growing,
correcting a heart which had grown numb.
Florid complexion, blushed cheeks above a smile,
a knowing and wanting, a potential for more
than a while,
a wonderful aching and warmth deep within,
gravitating moments,
careful, step, step, don’t fall into the
false world you’re presented with.
Fluidity, potpourri, scented, a flurry,
Reaching, a nearing, subtle, no need for fearing,
a universal tying of intent we know as Hope,
gravelly words, precisely uttered,
it is then that I will know.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
Photo from Pixabay
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
You must be logged in to post a comment.