Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: freedom

  • Poem: clear to see – 10/12/21

    Poem: clear to see – 10/12/21

    the metamorphosis is clear to see
    vials of perfume softly springing to mind, see?
    I remember you saying my name
    over and over,
    muttering in your sleep
    or was this just part of my former fervent dream
    wanting to be needed
    what a permanent picture;
    so dreary, so dreary,
    terrible need.

    many years spent travelling those
    desperately craggy mountains
    like that gypsy family
    seeking solace
    reverence within their country
    protection, sweet notions,
    extending their planning
    with ease,
    what does this mean to me? —

    to see, be heard, be seen,
    but not felt, no, not yet…
    the only tactile response will be what is calling
    to my mindset, leave pawing, clawing in the dust;
    there’ll be absolutely none of that.

    outrageously wise and perfectly contrite
    I siiiing with my presence by yours, theirs,
    myself by many a-side,
    and warranted yet are the prismatic rays of light
    bounding, bouncing forth, assign this nonsense,
    what a fantastical blur,
    this humdrum of renewed life.

    but I cannot be, I will not be without reference,
    I will dance in my seat without any form of sufferance,
    I will gather the cause and realise
    it’s enough, enough, to be wound, bound together
    do not cut the cord
    sever myself from the aspect that’s calling calling
    upon my bare feet like leech-covered lilies and
    vulnerable sticky pearls strung with the most
    delicate of ease.

    the world is yet to know my capabilities, my cause-and-effects,
    lustrous be thy truest form of genuine connection,
    soulful, calming and transparent temperament.
    (10/12/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
     
    Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

    Previous Post: no more thieves – 08/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram: laurenm.hancock

  • Spoken Word/Poem: gusty aura – 01/12/21

    Spoken Word/Poem: gusty aura – 01/12/21

    ambiguous this breath I take
    what does it mean
    to my whole, how does it relate?
    does this sustenance
    this air I take
    matter in any means of entirety
    do I exist for a form of fate?
    wonder not into the desert of human traits, deep existence
    wander in the sand dunes
    heated footsteps
    this breath I take
    expired and
    spent.

    there may be many heaves to come
    or several to falter as I fall
    my ailing heart perhaps
    suffers quietly
    I need not, want to tell,
    for to acknowledge the damage that
    I may have already done
    performed performed unwind this
    travesty
    self-abuse this is not a clever tale

    forthcoming do I see this
    will it fit my puzzle pieces
    as I dare to rearrange to dream
    to find that final picture without suffering
    to exist not exist but live and breathe
    with sights song
    energy free
     
    no more stares
    who cares for their thoughts
    the ignorant with their opinions whom
    do not truly know me
    only the visual

    they should be taught
    not to judge on appearances
    have I not worked so very hard
    on annihilation of that form
    that former suffering
    now I live for me
    to be
    I may have taken it a wee bit far
    but at least my efforts are here
    billowing like a gusty aura
    all about me.
    (30/11/21)

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

    Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

    https://soundcloud.com/user-894707136/billowy-aura-spoken-word?si=496941190b8848f08518baa643c42c0a

    Previous Post: vivid radiance – 30/11/21

    lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: running free – 18/11/21

    Poem: running free – 18/11/21

    running free
    it’s what I need breathe feel
    the wind battering my face
    as I take on new beliefs
    knowing internally what this will cause
    what type of effect
    no denial in me
    shedding skin
    cocooning complete
    what is done
    done done done.


    I can no longer hold
    that false bravado
    satisfied feeling
    eyes rolling to the ceiling
    knowing knowing
    now what’s better for me
    and what must remain attached
    with caution
    running free running free
    delicate contractions,
    prized so desired actions.

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

    Photo by Aditya Saxena on Unsplash

    Previous Post: Poem/spoken word – be yourself – 17/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Vivid Waves – 01/07/21

    Poem: Vivid Waves – 01/07/21

    Vivid waves heave then capitulate,
    hooves upon sand,
    gallant galloping,
    sun-drenched love;
    subtle stuttering,
    nervous selection,
    calm, controlling.

    Rise forth, my tidal queen!
    Wreak havoc upon all that
    you might see,
    open your waters,
    a space to reside and breathe,
    positive intent;
    entangled seaweed.

    Salted air attends to
    loose hair,
    beachy waves tossed, combed,
    flicked, without concern,
    fingers drag through piecey sections
    without a single care,

    and internally the
    thunderous towering beauties
    envelope a stray swimmer,
    sadly, his time,
    can’t you see?

    Wondering, wandering,
    bang, crash, decimated,
    the still–mood in my mind,
    I am plagued by naught,
    freed by the fragranced sea air.

    This is the air that I subsist on,
    this is the air that I breathe,
    envelope, my waves,
    this tidal queen,
    lest I settle beneath,
    to my home underneath the sea.  

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

    Previous Post: ‘Unexpected Callers ‘ – 29/06/21

    The Aesthete Blog Award! – 30/06/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Release – 13/06/21

    Poem: Release – 13/06/21

    Naturally, gently allowing
    the walls to crumble,
    down.

    Watching the open space
    bleeding into atmosphere’s
    righteous, wild unknown.

    Shreds of wisdom
    fall by the wayside,
    replaced by newer thoughts,
    the yarn, my thread of life,
    it is taut,
    so pleasantly, beautifully taut.

    Geraniums are laid by
    the broken, shattered walls,
    where once I wailed for more,
    for understanding,
    to be noticed,
    acknowledged,
    truth be told,

    yet here stands I,
    brimming with confidence,
    exuding inner success,
    it’s not about material possessions,
    no,
    I am truly, irrevocably blessed.

    I am dreaming
    of my purpose,
    what feels so right
    in the moment,
    barrelling through
    inconspicuous tirades
    of words formerly held,
    their refute against what I most admired,
    now their former plight.

    I am valuing my truth,
    I unwind,
    zig-zagging my way
    here and there,
    for in my mind
    I am now free of pain
    and this is
    truly a sight to see,
    I’ve tamed, released, and purged
    the demons from me,
    no more fear to bear.

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

    Previous Post: ‘No Lamenting’ – 12/06/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: A Blessed Outing – 03/09/20

    Poem: A Blessed Outing – 03/09/20

    The sun is shining on my face,
it’s glary but I don’t mind.
It’s nice to be outside of the house,
away from the fortress that’s kept me safe
over time.

I have ventured out for specifics,
I am here after the fact,
being here is not especially dangerous,
I’m simply sitting here in the car,
waiting for her return,
and it’s nice to be outside
of the house that we call home,
temporary freedom,
this is a blessed fact.

I watch people leave their cars tentatively,
head towards the supermarket doors,
I watch others wheel their trolleys to the cars triumphantly,
as if this is their one day out amongst many.

And here she is,
carrying a bag of goodies
and two punnets of treats,
she’s had her outing, too,
and for the chance for independence I can tell she’s pleased,
after being specifically cooped up for her safety,
there are more facts to this story that I won’t 
allow to be gleaned,

we have relished these minutes outside
and aren’t we so grateful,
these times have changed how the world and 
experiences are felt, and seen.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Joshua Fuller on Unsplash

    Home

    View All Posts

    Join me also at:

    YouTube

    SoundCloud

  • Poem: Reflection – 03/07/20

    Poem: Reflection – 03/07/20

    Sometimes you can tell
what is lingering beneath
the surface,
the shining reflection
stares back at you,

and you understand
you’re that person
who wants and needs 
to express her existence,
through illness, 
through wellness,
which status, 
it does not matter,

your arranged words
determine the
careful revelations of 
your circumstances.

You then wipe the
reflection aside,
slap the surface away,
dig desperately
through the lake where 
memories lurk,
until you discover

bones and meat
and elbows and toes
and further down
your treasures:

your sparkles,
your fizz,
your fairy wings
which helped you rise
and fly lightly around the globe,

that light which had dragged
many unfortunate moths, 
toward their ending flame.

Yet you are far more intelligent,
you won’t allow yourself to burn,
with your wings and sparkles,
you sprinkle your 
considered phrases and words,

and then fly up and away, 
your tales are no longer unheard,
laden with surprises,
won't you continue to sparkle and shine?

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
Image by Erica O. from Pixabay

    Return to All Posts

    Home

    YouTube Poem videos: Lauren M. Hancock Poetry

    Soundcloud Poem Readings

    Instagram

  • Poem: The Mauve Gown – 08/05/20

    I need to stop
I tell myself,
I need to stop this now,
the needle pulling through the silk,
the soft material.
 
I can’t keep sewing,
creating, making,
while my heartbeat thuds and pounds,
the danger’s lurking,
my task’s undertaken,
can I truly wear this garment loud and proud?
 
To them it announces revolt,
to me it signifies freedom,
those bright mauve tatters
sewn into sheets of beautiful layers,
ever so silken.
 
And I will wear them with pride,
without embarrassment,
no need to hide,
my fingers,
my thumbs,
pricked many a-time,
 
They will try to tear me down,
but this is not their time,
I will rejoice,
for my hard work,
all so damned sublime.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Bruno /Germany from Pixabay

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • Poem: The Animals’ Holiday – 09/04/20

    Poem: The Animals’ Holiday – 09/04/20

    The world stops,
one could hear a pin drop
though no one is present to hear its ping.
 
We are all inside,
relegated,
told to be safe
to take care,
to avoid each other as much
to save ourselves now and in the future.
 
The pin drops and in fact
something does hear it
why, it is a little fox
who has taken over his landscape once more,
without the humans,
the grass, the soil, the land
is his.
 
And the rabbits,
why, there they are,
tentatively sniffing,
their whiskers bouncing up and down
like wild antennas in a storm,
judging whether it’s safe to leave their warren,
its safety,
they finally decide, there’s much freedom to be had!
 
And the birds, the birds are startled
by the lack of human activity,
the lessening of smog,
of absence of large groups,
less cars,
and perplexed, they fly observing the scene below,
then, joyously they realise this world is becoming theirs,
more than it had ever been before,
and they swoop and squawk and soar,
tweeting and twittering with as many smiles
as their beaks can form.
 
For how does one know when a bird is smiling?
How does one know when a fox’s heart is free and calling?
How does one know when a rabbit’s frantic heart is now
calm and content?
The ability to leave his home without fear,
and explore the land without a sense of calamity impending?
 
The animals are taking over,
it is their time,
their ability to take their holiday,
while we are inside,
they live it up.

While we’re inside, they’re happily enjoying their Outside.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Gary Bendig on Unsplash
 

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • Prose Poetry: A Land of the Free – 02/03/20

    Prose Poetry: A Land of the Free – 02/03/20

    I fly off, toward a land of the free, where I can soar with my wingspan so wide not even dragons could watch without envy. Their narrowed eyes and aching hearts would speak of something so paining and green that neither head nor heart could be altered, though to be seen with these beasts would be a dream.
 
I am a spectacular bird of the skies, my feathers six feet long, yay high, and of a particular, peculiar colour, tan dipped with white and rose, I am seen throughout the skies daily, my presence is always known.
 
I am on a journey to the land of the free where I will land and find myself among other birds of prey who do not want to capture any more, to kill life. Where we are all equal, soaring, travelling across the craggy and green ground, where we meld with one another, sociable, never disastrously cruel or unkind.
 
The dragons pass me overhead, their keen red beady eyes are searching the ground for me, but instead I rise above them, flourish by flourish of my wings the wind around me grows, and I smile unto them, caw-cawing, as my species is known to express, in a manner so bold.
 
The dragons realise I am not a threat, in fact, I am here to escape their prosperous land, where animals such as rats and mice – my favourite – were available ongoing. There was no competition to capture such meals and it was never left to chance. They simply scurried before me, as though begging to be taken, but now, I am in the land of the free, where no lives will be taken.
 
This includes mine. I wave off the dragons, and smiling, they rise into the sky, leaving myself and my others to decide what to do with our now guilt-free lives.

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

    Return to All Posts

    Home