Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: happiness

  • Poem: the constant common denominator – 08/02/2022

    Poem: the constant common denominator – 08/02/2022

    It feels so natural to speak the truth

    Embedded with Constance to see me through

    Upon the tips of my tongue

    A hullabaloo

    And an irrevocable meaning, melding

    Of heartfelt growling too.

    They’re, we’re indestructible, I know,

    View the airiness within me as my two delicates rose

    I need not have not

    Want for material things because the truth is

    My spirit is soaring.

    No matter what you say or do

    You cannot take me from the stars

    From the skies

    The sighs and I quickly taste that bitter pill

    Of poison

    For some refuse me heavens door

    No matter how hard I rap or knock

    I cannot get in …

    Frantic cries for Doc!

    The paid spread the mayhem

    LOST

    I calm myself

    It’s only motes

    Or dust

    My being is travelling

    Astral through the sky

    Whisper I sleep prettily and dream of

    Wonderful butterflies

    Shush as they encompass me

    Their light winged air begging me to stare at

    Their wondrous dramatic colours of sweet rich hues

    Nothing like where upon the earth,

    We are hunted for training

    For sailing for achievements

    For ENTERTAINMENT and more

    I am no more a sheep for fleece as steak is to hunger

    I refuse to be your sacrifice any longer r

    Before those guilty of harbouring powers from me for so many years

    Stuff you and your sister and your job cause your beard, because hey,

    I kinda like your beard. 🙂

    Returning in all seriousness, don’t cease my ability to soar, I don’t NEED you now, all I needs myself is my mind, my wits and the ability to laugh at funny situations.

    Because laughter shared is happiness gained, my love. Did you not know that?

    I like you more or less. 🙂

    (C) copyright 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

  • poem: war of the worlds/calling to archangels – 25/01/22

    poem: war of the worlds/calling to archangels – 25/01/22

    Brother and Sister

    The brothers come closer
    they materialise into view
    expecting the expectant dame to cry ‘adieu adieu’
    but she will not fall
    like a tree in the quiet woods she will not be felled,
    not even by a dark witch doctor with
    many alibis to tell.

    he holds the keys,
    swings with her melodies,
    he rhymes and rhymes,
    in unison in style,

    like youngest and child they sing to the heavens,
    mother mary they smile at her,
    the archangels they call to them.

    these two are kindred in some type of way,
    spirits never lost yet reunited by purpose,
    shall we say?
    but the truth of the matter is
    they both have their own loves
    they only sing together like gentle sparrow and dove. 

    who is the M who is L?
    who is the character that is perceived as
    well?
    is it the minority,
    is it the victim mentality,
    or is it completely another character,
    the malicious son of an entity?

    We shall continue this broadcast of enmity
    shortly,
    let us recommence dictating World War Three.

    Nacht.

    Copyright 2022 Lauren M. Hancock. All right reserved.

  • Poem: friends forever? – 08/01/21

    Poem: friends forever? – 08/01/21

    Crazed night full of backstabs and bites
    and false sugar sweetness relax into this dream
    there is understanding there are laughs there is fight
    there is wit pomp and circumstance to cease this inner fight

    she shrieks about the hell beneath her world in which she lives
    she attempts to share her knowledge and more but
    the bunny rabbit only questions and sings

    annoying character is she but shields the devils face
    with deep, deep chagrin upon him

    Wonder not the times of treason of incorrect submission “
    or that Libra you are for searching
    you will find her deep within me.
    For I am your saviour within this life, within our dream.
    Friends together, if you’ll let it be
    so mote it be so mote it be.

    Copyright © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

  • Poem: deviation – 29/12/21

    Poem: deviation – 29/12/21

    the times are confusing my dear
    I stare him down in the face
    commonplace, commonplace? Perplexed, no, this world can be full of hate.
    there are jerusalems and narnias and picturesque scenes and wild wild cars
    the darkness darkness speaks to us
    while the light within calls to her

    she speaks in riddles and rhymes
    envelopes the times
    the signs the whines the styles keep trickling into their den
    but the foxes they won’t make amends
    and the wolves they call to them
    they chuckle to themselves, those gods,
    those cryptologists whom seek:
    while we are up in arms.

    we clear the courses,
    delicately, and with charms.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

  • Poem: Our Rainbow – 11/07/21

    Poem: Our Rainbow – 11/07/21

    I put on this ring of colours,
    gold and rainbow hues,
    it makes me brighter,
    mood lighter,
    fire –
    heart-starter,
    warmth within,
    such a factor.

    We bought this together,
    friendship-hearts,
    shared present,
    I appreciated your offer
    though perhaps I shouldn’t have taken it,
    and now, I wear it falsely right-handed,
    remembrance,
    rising mood with style,
    reminding me I’m that
    rainbow child.

    I don’t need pearls,
    diamonds,
    no other toys,
    no silly boys,
    just a best friend
    as close as can be,
    sometimes there’s
    misunderstanding
    but we extract,
    unwind, sometimes with difficulty,
    other times with ease.

    This rainbow child,
    rainbow sprite,
    how much I appreciate
    the company and smiles,
    listening ears, ever aware,
    perpetually there,
    breathing there,
    listening down the line,
    that phone connection is all,
    moments, hours spent,
    precious time, enthralled.

    And all the while
    my eyes dance
    as upon the colours
    I joyfully glance,
    they revive me,
    they remind me,
    that our friendship’s
    so precious to me,
    and I realise our connection
    has become like a second home to me.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Cruel Measures’ – 10/07/21

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  • Prose: Spells and Magic – 20/05/21

    Prose: Spells and Magic – 20/05/21

    Spells and magic occur each and every day. It’s up to us whether we perceive them, or whether they go unnoticed – like glitter, they can fall before us, bright and vivid speckles falling where they may.

    A spell can touch the very tip of a nose and cause a sudden smile; one might not know why, how or when, but joy is flooding their insides again. Like a stork bringing an infant to the stoop, magic delivers us happiness and wonder – in order for emotions to converge, does a stork need to be truth? Can we not accept the notion and dream, of a desired, oft-prayed for delivery, as wholesome, contented proof?

    Spells, spells, spells, they’re all around, delivered from up above, and reverberation with insistence from down-below. A sorcerer never reveals the source of their conjuring, but ultimately though, they should project positive intentions onto us knowingly. A wand can lithely dance in patterns, held by a skilled hand, one gesture and a wish has been made at the wielder’s command.

    But what about ‘everyday magic’? Or the lyrical words and images of writers and poets? Or artists’ imagery and feelings splashed onto cardboard, paper and canvas? Or children’s peals of laughter, the licking of a cheek from a puppy-dog’s tongue, the social inclusion which makes one feel a part of a whole as fellow sports supporters join in song. The shivers, the goosebumps on one’s arms as something amazing is heard, digested, or watched, the assurance felt when one clasps hands with someone they truly love.

    All here is real magic, drifting from my pen, surely many more instances can be detailed, and I won’t need to repeat any tales of already-expended magic, for they’ll be so much for you to all presently share from your own pens.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Cherished’ – 19/05/21

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  • Poem: Fields of Colour – 02/01/21

    Poem: Fields of Colour – 02/01/21

    Ink and colours swirl and fly,
    admirably they meld into the other,
    watch our joy multiply.
    There’s not a moment too soon
    when we can reach into the stars,
    colours, outlines, so fantastical,
    we can hardly believe them ours.

    I know that these hues and shades
    might not be here forever,
    but I appreciate and accept,
    allow them to provide my eyes pleasure
    and favour while I introspect,

    I know not their meanings to you,
    but to me they are plentiful,
    wholesome,
    vivid, true,
    here’s what I’ve planned,
    I know not what with the colours
    you plan to do.

    Be delicate with them,
    I chide but smile,
    wonder not,
    the colours will remain for a long while,
    the moment of truth is when
    decisions are made with great charms,
    wondering, and wandering,
    into fields of open arms.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Image by Jeremy Thomas, Unsplash.

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  • Poem: An Unexpected Arrival – 12/12/20

    Poem: An Unexpected Arrival – 12/12/20

    An unexpected arrival,
    shrieks and joy to be had,
    family, friends and more,
    there’s not need to feel alone or bad.

    We sit and chat,
    I stand and embrace,
    my heart is emboldened,
    of you, there is no trace,

    I am ecstatic in this moment,
    surrounded by those I love,
    and those she loves,
    her day was blessed,
    with much pomp and circumstance,
    the surprise could never go a negative way.

    Be bright and smile with us,
    we are a unit, a family,
    be strong with us,
    we have woven wefts that continue
    strengthening and growing.

    Illness has surprisingly made us closer,
    the requirements, the needs, the wants,
    the vulnerabilities,
    the desire to fight,
    the need to be strong.

    We need not concern ourselves with nonsense
    or upsets that are not required towards
    her healing,
    bone dry are our eyes
    because we do not need any form of weeping.

    The visit was brief,
    the visit was unexpected,
    but it broke up the time we were
    quietly relaxing,
    and I thank them for their dropping in,
    to share some happiness,
    to share with our joy within.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Sam Manns on Unsplash

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  • Poem: It Enlivens Me – 05/11/20

    Poem: It Enlivens Me – 05/11/20

    The colours brighten me,
    they take over my soul,
    they enliven,
    they heighten,
    they create a somewhat free-for-all.

    In my heart, which I’ll tame one day,
    when it is the time to blatantly shine,
    I caress memories and emotions borne of
    still-bated breath,
    I know they’ll surface soon,
    and that’s completely fine.

    The colour of the day is my favourite,
    it emboldens me,
    brings a spring to my step,

    wearing it, I feel girlish,
    and bright and bubbly,
    there are no more signs of outward duress.

    I cloak myself in my protective garb,
    because this is what makes me feel stronger,
    less saddened, emboldened,
    at large,

    my heart, still untamed,
    is presently screaming,
    multiple voices all
    one and the same,
    let us talk without hurtful candour,
    let us be kind at heart.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Valerie Elash on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Effervescent Eyes – 22/09/20

    Poem: Effervescent Eyes – 22/09/20

    We’re walking through the streets,
    hand in hand we stop to take a sip of our drinks,
    smiling,
    laughing,
    we have so much to share,
    so much happiness to spread,
    we’re like deviants of the light,
    spreading joy with all our might.

    Trailing behind are the remnants of ill feeling,
    we’d cast them aside long before,
    the lingering feeling of discontentment is still present,
    but we’re forgetting,
    our argument, we are carefully clearing.

    Our souls bond with sparks,
    like the melding of metal to metal,
    and wood to fire we catch the heat of our
    loving concern and care,

    we are a rich source of oxygen-thieving and warmth,
    positive feelings,
    we will always have a link, a tie,
    no matter the circumstances,
    no matter whether we pull apart because
    one or the other needs some form of personal healing.

    Our sodas are light and sparkling
    just like our eyes,
    effervescent like the youth still in our maturing tides,
    as we grow together, we learn from each other,
    friendship, strength, a bond
    that may not always be stable
    but still retains the strength
    like reinforced walls,
    and we sip and sip,
    laughing to ourselves.

    Onward, onward,
    homeward bound.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

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