Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: fantasy

  • poem: clowning around/won’t you join me? – 12/03/22

    poem: clowning around/won’t you join me? – 12/03/22

    the waves take me on a journey
    where I’m lulled into a sense of security
    and notes like gentle hands wash over me,
    I am amazed and quiet,
    there is nothing remaining above the surface,
    a breath and I’m underneath,
    the seaweed, coral, clown fish
    are brighter than above-days,
    my heart is pounding ecstatically,
    once well-rested,
    there’s so much to take in,
    to see.

    engineered cobwebs from
    entangled jellyfish limbs,
    mesmerising affray,
    dilating metamorphic,
    fluid heads, bodies,
    passing my very way,
    I become at peace with this sight
    entranced at their careless might,
    manners so poignant with each other
    there’s nothing which escapes
    my sight; gone under.

    And further under, I bury myself in the
    silt and sand,
    mischievous with this land,
    another clown fish passes, then
    mum and dad.
    Oranges brighter than witches’ cones,
    I smile to myself,
    they entertain, and I know
    their intent is nothing to amuse,
    they simply, casually amble,
    stop, move.

    How beautiful such a simple sight could be within
    a quiet night under the sea,
    so breathless, yet free,
    won’t you accompany,
    won’t you slip beneath waves,
    won’t you join me?
    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.

    Image from Unsplash.  

  • Poem: Don’t Wanna Leave – 14/06/21

    Poem: Don’t Wanna Leave – 14/06/21

    Swimming in pools,
    whirling thoughts,
    like sediment,
    opportunities
    sink to the rocks,
    soggy, thick dirt.

    Submerged below
    the system,
    unexplored territory,
    pumped,
    crunched by pistons,
    enmity, harsh dichotomy.

    And the duality
    of both positive
    and negative systems
    overrides our ability for
    safe distances,

    from the beginning
    we will venture,
    from the middle,
    we will endure,
    all that exists
    beneath those shining surfaces.

    Fluidity of movement
    is so very important,
    though my false smile catches corners,
    galloping sounds pass by,
    whinnying, disagreeable sea horses,

    and to remember,
    to recall,
    those rides by the sea,
    they were magnificent,
    spectacular,
    the recollections I breathe.

    You and I, was it even you,
    or just singularly me?
    Horizon spans as far an
    eternally-felt rumination can see.

    Soggy underwood,
    underfoot,
    stormy-footed grip,
    envelope me,
    potent still,
    don’t you dare
    make a sound,

    hush, little baby,
    hold me in your arms,
    time is affective,
    I don’t wanna leave these charms.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Pixabay from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Release’ – 13/06/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Prose: Jewels of Thought – 29/05/21

    Prose: Jewels of Thought – 29/05/21

    The jewels of thought glimmer as the trove presents its offering. Sparkling, lustrous, scintillating, these contemplations are part of more than bearings of either king or queen. These are not controlled by royalty: they are presently waiting, awaiting new processes, though their method of glimmering is surprisingly passive; they lay there, waiting to be selected by us.

    The jewels, jewels of thought have one true source – a master thinker, a genius, a contemplative-conjurer, who has fashioned these offerings for everybody from spicks and specks of this and that, everything, and blocks of thoughts are honoured before selection shall be made tentatively, then bravely, then freely.

    Can we not form our own thoughts? Let intuition speak to you and myself, that gut feeling, third-eye instinct? Though, sometimes it’s comfortable to have a guider, a leader, to see.

    The wonder we feel in the moment when we receive this gift, a single, procured gift-wrapped thought, suddenly deemed so precious you don’t even want to undo the ribbon’s bow now.

    So, you sit with it, hold onto it, cherish this gilded box with a single cherished thought. You know not what it is, whether ignition, calm or cataclysmic indeed, you accept your inner self is enough – the gifted thought is unnecessary, only novelty, its newness will not outlast.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’ – 28/05/21

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  • Poem: A Scorned Beast – 07/06/20

    Poem: A Scorned Beast – 07/06/20

    Night mode –
do my wings terrify?
Does the beat of these bones and membranes
send terror, shivers down your spine?
 
I am ready for the evening,
suit of armour here for protection,
although I won’t need it,
besides,
it’s only a matter of deflection.
 
I shall reign triumph and terror
where I see fit,
your lashing anger and fury show no signs of abating,
how dare you,
with tempestuous words direct hit upon hit?
 
I am ready for you,
and those of your kind,
my wings,
with their enormous span –
do they terrify?

(28/05/20)

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Lothar Dieterich from Pixabay

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