Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: empowerment

  • Poem: Not Worth The Upsets – 21/09/21

    Poem: Not Worth The Upsets – 21/09/21

    Deliver me from the evils that await at the hands of certain beings,
    an understanding that what they project in life is the pain they’ve already been suffering,
    or a notion that the signs they exhibit are the nastiness wrought within their souls,
    perhaps they’ve been hurt already, perhaps they just have a cruel heart,
    perhaps we won’t know at all.

    But the missing pieces of the puzzle won’t inextricably fall into place,
    in fact, they might fall by the wayside under their devil’s sweeping cape,
    little minds who wish to play games may think theirs are engorged,
    but let me tell you this, dear friends,
    I believe bullying behaviour is extremely untoward.

    It’s as though they want to ruin another for their sheer pleasure,
    a wreaking of revenge because an ego became snowed under,
    I am the process, I am the deliverer,
    I will not allow myself from useless words to suffer.

    Stronger than the poison that seeps from veins,
    a fighter within,
    I shall never emit to them the words ‘je t’aime’,
    unworthy of my belligerence,
    untimely expulsions from my spirit,
    my perturbed soul,
    now I know,
    they weren’t worth the upsets at all.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

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    Previous Post: Obsidian – 19/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Particular Reason – 11/09/21

    Poem: Particular Reason – 11/09/21

    Are you caught in the past,
    or occupied in the future?
    One needs to exist in the present moment,
    become your personal teacher,
    for in this state of being you will learn
    something inherently deeper
    than the quiet understanding already grasped;
    one needs not their own preacher.

    Existing as an individual,
    not one of a pair, simple two,
    becoming stronger with every moment,
    wiping away past assertions of “truth”,
    for this notion, this validity you are searching for,
    tell yourself there’s more to life
    than being attached, feeling gleans,
    independence is what should be seen,
    mutual connection perhaps a future must,
    irreverent, irreverent light streams.

    But trust is the catalysis that makes this
    formula relevant,
    what exceptions should there be to behold
    should irrelevancies be logged,
    shown, told,
    let us not acknowledge the voice of a particular reason,
    there is momentum in the smoking gun,
    of amazingly righteous treason.

    Perhaps personal betrayal means nothing to them.
    Let us relish the inevitable dealing of karmic retribution.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Blessed Scene – 14/09/21

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  • Poem: Breathe Freely – 04/09/21

    Poem: Breathe Freely – 04/09/21

    I woke up today with this feeling
    improvements are coming my way.
    I roused today with this knowledge
    amid the blustering breeze
    gritty cares will be transported away.
    I am aware now
    that I am stronger,
    as I grow
    irreverent words pool,
    tide carries them to sand and soil, away,
    angelic beats of beauties in
    expiring melted snow
    heralding a new era,
    trumpets to ears —
    nothing much left to say,
    but, I was forthcoming,
    I severed a tie,
    temporarily it must be,
    unless truth, future and beauty
    cause the past to decay,
    and a lifelong extension may be necessary
    in order for me to freely breathe.  

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Arrival – 02/09/21

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  • Poem: The Ribbon-Twirling Dancing Dolly – 06/10/19

    Poem: The Ribbon-Twirling Dancing Dolly – 06/10/19

     She joyously twirls bright ribbons yet feels dead inside,
     With a knowledge that what was once there, 
     Fresh-faced, bright, youthful, still alive,
     Is now broken, irreparable,
     Scattered in pieces upon the stage,
     An urban pavement,
     Nothing to show for the destruction,
     No sense of inner pride or holding her head up high.
      
     Her dolly-brightness is a façade
     The light and shade a humorous method
     At relaying that inside she is still ignited
     Still burning with life;
     One only has to look at her lack of brightened eyes
     To take in this scene with a sense of absent mirth.
      
     Oh, how she could have reached the heights
     Become more than she had ever been
     How she could have flown into the hemisphere
     Succeeding and achieving at building a life
     Of her own.
      
     But here she is
     Dead as a doornail because of the path that she chose,
     To vacuously entertain and be admired rather than use her mind, 
     To exercise the chemistry of her intelligent brain

     For a while she was simply an amusement
     A joke
     Something mocked behind open hands 
    Just something to be viewed in passing
    upon the set stage.

     But with time, hopefully she’ll rectify her life
     Breathe in once more
     And live a great freedom, a life
     Without recollection of that strife.
      
     Because dollies are meant to play
     Entertain their owners 
     Give them joy for hours upon days
     And seemingly there is nothing wrong
     With amusing another
     When it is performed with great respect of oneself
     And with an allowance of renewed life and vigour.
      
     Thus, with her self-justification and self-talk
     She feels less dead inside now,
     Her stitched-shut eyes now become visible once more,
     Brightened with the knowledge 
     that her presence is again wanted
     She is popular,
     Not cast aside onto the floor. 
      
     A renewed sense of popularity,
     A chance to regain a zest for life,
     To provide them with who she was meant to be -
     Now,
     She throws down her ribbons
     Which kept her bound and down.

     Altered, affected and no longer ill at ease
     She strives for something more,
     Something less vapid,
     A role in life where she could be
     Acknowledged as being more than what she’d been designed for,
    Her eyes are finally open enough to see.

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.


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