growth – Page 2 – Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Poem: I Do Not Exist, I Live – 15/02/21

Sing to myself, I will this day,
there is nothing to perturb me,
my worries they have been laid away.

I do not exist, I live,
broadly speaking I experience,
I take, I give,
my heart yearns for nothing,
I am complete because I’ve accepted the truth of myself,
I’m growing more comfortable in my skin.

Strength comes from knowing who I am,
visions come from planning through resilience,
I am no longer weakness walking,
the insecurities forthcoming,
I do not rely on another to complete or fix me,
the notion of this unsettles me.

Because, being independent mentally,
and emotionally, shall we say,
it is, in itself something wondrous to look upon after
endless helpless days,
I won’t suffer, I won’t be useless with myself,
I have courage and ardour,
I’ve grown and I don’t need another to leap in
to take me as their prize
when I’ve worked so hard to develop myself
for years, not days.

© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash

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February 15, 2021

Poem: Better – 25/09/20

The rain pitter-patters against the window
reminding me of the melancholy I used to feel,
but now I am developing myself,
I am fusing myself together,
redetermining self-worth.

I need not chase the opinions high nor low
of yonder words to come,
need not seek the approval of critical strangers,
or unkind people who I’m not close with,
why, shouldn’t they matter little to none?

I seek your approval, because I care for your thoughts,
I seek the justice of your moments with me
because I am true with you,
together we become,
but I shan’t allow my life to hinge
on your thoughts of me anymore,
because I am stronger,
I believe in myself,
more and more and more.

It’s taken a while to reach this stage,
I’m merely dipping my big toe in the water,
who knows what there is to come,
who knows what’s happily living under,
what I will experience,
who will I meet,
on my journey,
this life path indeed.

I sit on the riverbank and wonder,
why was I so needy,
why was I so temperamental,
why was I so melancholy,
why was I so angry?

Needing others’ affirmation, day in and day out,
it was sickening,
I look back on those years,
no wonder I was not blooming.

But now, my heart is open,
at least its slowly opening up the shutters,
letting in the smell of that beautiful rain
pelting down,
and I know,
I know,
that things will be better from now on,
trust me,
I tell myself.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash

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September 25, 2020

Poem: The Good Fight – 23/09/20

You have it within you.
The ability to push through,
with determination,
with resolve,
with power,
without the assistance of another.

You can do it, brother, sister,
you can achieve these goals.
You can achieve your goals,
even with extenuating circumstances,
don’t you know?

Though sadness, lack of resolve,
impatience may linger,
cast these aside, because, you know,
they are of an indelicate picture,
instead fulfil yourself with the richness of
scarlet reds,
of peacock and cobalt blues,
ceruleans,
crimson,
yellow, yellow,
bright sunshine to view.

Embrace the moment when your mind says,
“I have had enough”
of this negativity, which not only swarmed,
but threatened to cause you to leave,
the perpetual darkness that was present,
looming yet sinister and dormant within your soul.
Those parts of you which you do not
show, and neither speak of,
it’s not time to be gawked at,
stared at,
it is instead time to achieve and heal.

And heal you may,
you will,
you’ll achieve so much because I know
you’re going to put your mind to it
and your heart and soul in it,
and soon enough,
in the blink of an eye,
I’ll see your name in lights,
and the fluttering butterflies in my belly
will keep soaring,
they last only three days,
but damn, let them make the most of it.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Justin DoCanto on Unsplash

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September 23, 2020

Poem: Speaking of Kindness… 14/09/20

I can speak of kindness,
of the heart,
of warmth,
of the joy of before, despite now,

I can speak of closeness,
of love,
of holding hands while we’re all in rows,

I can speak of courageousness,
I can speak of strength,
I can speak of resilience,

I can speak of the potency of our inner charisma,
of our undying self-knowledge.

I understand that current times are heartbreaking,
they are tough,
they are causing pain and suffering to many,
ongoing,

and while I acknowledge this,
I will encourage us to band together and become
stronger than ever,

to determine what we can do for one another,
to give credence and hope
to each other.

To be able to place a hand upon another’s shoulder and say,
“I understand what you’re going through,
even though I may not have experienced it this day”

the empathy will shine through like a light unto a
previously-darkened tunnel,

and if the recipient does not want the light,
there is no problem,
perhaps they’ll welcome it tomorrow.

For we have become a little shy and inward
during these times,
afraid of reaching out to humankind,

insular, toward ourselves,
if we open up our hearts,
we’ll feel the warmth of someone else.

To share in what you have,
to delight in sharing a few words with a passing stranger,
to see the smile in one’s eyes above a mask as they pass,
why, that is beauty in and of itself.

The connection between human beings is more than ever
important to people such as you and I,
and we’ll feel the pain and suffering,
ease, ease, ease,

connections are ever so important,
we must keep these linked,
inextricably,

because if we don’t have hands to hold,
no one to lean upon each other,
then who will we have if we start failing
at harnessing our inner power?

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo credit: United Nations Covid-19 Response on Unsplash

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September 14, 2020

Poem: Life Lessons on a Path – 03/01/20

An expansive view,
surroundings enormous,
and my heart,
it beats tightly nestled within my breast,
crying out as a reminder that I must be true.
 
True to myself,
like an enthusiastic whirligig which will always spin,
relentless,
without its own natural breath but making his own,
he survives.
Better still, he thrives.
 
I will continue to turn and turn
and find my niche,
where I’ll express an ongoing internal landscape,
more than I’ll display in person,
viewable only by myself behind closed curtains.
 
There’s a space within my soul
which I once ached to share,
to divulge without thought,
without consideration, 
an alleviation,
unnecessary wrongful confessions, which,
while conjoined to the quill,
I shared verbosely and with calligraphy so flamboyant
o’er and o’er, 'til there was nothing left in my inkwell,
let alone in the recesses of my mind.
 
I’m disinclined to share the inky Rorschach interpretations
of sullied silted experience,
and as such,
my preference is to unwind current struggles and tidings
remaining in my world,
from these I’ll take my fill,
I’ll share.
 
I need never grieve again for shrieking heights,
nor those days of pinprick slender sickness,
manic confusion,
psychotic delusion,
so many people met,
yet so few remaining.

No, I will only allow my vision to be cast over the plains,
the fields of my existence
which I can detail, and breathe in the embodiment
of calming words assisting my soul 
to become tamer, 
to become wiser, 
and to allow my offered text to reflect 
what's scrawled within my innermost pages.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
All images signed “LMH”
are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock
and all rights reserved.

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February 3, 2020

Poem: “I am enough” – 12/01/20

 I am enough the way I am, she scrawls over and over
 on the draft paper for algebra which 
 she really has no use for, 
 her math is terrible, best use 
 the sheets as they are to scratch and scrawl.
 Enough, enough, enough,
 she traces the letters, feeds the words,
 perhaps one day another person she’ll enthrall.
  
 An understanding that if she writes the phrase 
 often enough it’ll ring true,
 a sudden belief structure then reverently erected 
 like a mosque or a church
 present to preserve self-acceptance 
 and worship of her own worth
 for she does not accept these words, 
 round and round her calligraphy swirls.
  
 Empty loops and hollow introspection exist,
 to her, she is nothing right now, she is yet to become.
 The ink drags along with her flowing hand,
 reflections of prior motions, 
 self-directions.
  
 But enough, enough! with this self-pity and deep sadness,
 at a lack of acknowledgement for 
 her true internal development,
 she is enough, 
 always has been,
 always will,
 so saddening she needed to ink the phrase upon her skin. 
  
 Because now the mark speaks of how 
 she believed she was not enough,
 so much so that, insecurity rose and drowned her,
 to pay someone to mark her for life,
 with words in a calligraphy that was not mine. 
  
 © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
 All images signed “LMH” 
 are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock 
 and all rights reserved. 

 Photo by Bich Tran from Pexels

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January 12, 2020

Poem: “I am enough” – 12/01/20

 I am enough the way I am, she scrawls over and over
 on the draft paper for algebra which 
 she really has no use for, 
 her math is terrible, best use 
 the sheets as they are to scratch and scrawl.
 Enough, enough, enough,
 she traces the letters, feeds the words,
 perhaps one day another person she’ll enthrall.
  
 An understanding that if she writes the phrase 
 often enough it’ll ring true,
 a sudden belief structure then reverently erected 
 like a mosque or a church
 present to preserve self-acceptance 
 and worship of her own worth
 for she does not accept these words, 
 round and round her calligraphy swirls.
  
 Empty loops and hollow introspection exist,
 to her, she is nothing right now, she is yet to become.
 The ink drags along with her flowing hand,
 reflections of prior motions, 
 self-directions.
  
 But enough, enough! with this self-pity and deep sadness,
 at a lack of acknowledgement for 
 her true internal development,
 she is enough, 
 always has been,
 always will,
 so saddening she needed to ink the phrase upon her skin. 
  
 Because now the mark speaks of how 
 she believed she was not enough,
 so much so that, insecurity rose and drowned her,
 to pay someone to mark her for life,
 with words in a calligraphy that was not mine. 
  
 © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
 All images signed “LMH” 
 are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock 
 and all rights reserved. 

 Photo by Bich Tran from Pexels

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