hope – Page 4 – Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Poem: They Called You Average – 28/08/20

So, they called you average.
What is 'average' anyway?
Are you going to let their taunts get in your way?
Or will you rise, will you soar above the judgments, their negativity?
For some though, they’re more inclined to sink
and this image is more than dreary.

Some hearts can break at the slightest twinge
of criticism,
the human twang of strummed attack,
average, average, average,
is this what you are?
No, my darling, my dear,
I’ll speak of their words as if I’m 
breaking forth from Criticism’s prison with ease.

Awaken at every moment that you’re challenged
about who you are,
average is as average does,
this you are not,
and let me tell you this:
these taunts are coming from afar.

They are nonsense,
they are preying upon your insecurities,
in fact, can you now hear the echoes of their words
within the reverberation of your quiet words,
their intentions clearly seen?

Because to bring another down is cowardly and unkind,
why use such words with such power
to cause a sense of worthlessness,
a light removed from their eyes?
The shine of self-confidence and hope can sadly lose their gleam.

But average you are not,
never,
you outshine those letters arranged and intended cruelly,
hear my words instead,
you are amazing and strong and true,
allow your confidence to rise through and through.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Houcine Ncib on Unsplash

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Poem: After a Burst of Positivity – 25/08/20

It doesn’t matter how bad life gets,
hope can still trickle into view,
positivity like a painted, beaming smile
on a canvas reminding us that
a positive perspective is the
correct view.
 
No need to succumb to despair,
I know it can be difficult
but know there will always be at least someone there
with a shine in their eyes,
an offered brightness to your day.
 
And then with you,
an ability to look outside of yourself,
not introvert,
but bloom,
share what’s within
our hearts, our minds,
what they have to say.
 
Do not view yourself in the negative light
some may wish to behold,
brighten, with hope,
you’ve so many tales to share and tell,
 
Broaden your horizons
further than just your despair,
because, in doing so,
you can inspire others to reach out
from their pains,
this can be accomplished almost anywhere.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Lesly Juarez on Unsplash

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Poem: Looking to Brighter Days – 07/08/20

I tell myself to be positive,
there’s no reason in the world that hope for human life
should cave in.
 
I tell myself to see the positive side of things,
that there is not pain and suffering everywhere I turn,
my heart shouldn’t flat-line:
the highs and lows of existence, 
the pitch should still sing with a subtle twang and slight whine.
 
While I think of those unknown, unnamed others
who have suffered from disaster,
those whom have passed, while loved ones grieve,
lament their family members, friends, close others,
I will recognise their plight,

and I tell myself I must be positive for others,
perhaps if I can bring a single person a smile
this day,
I have created and shared a little light.
 
While things may seem uncertain, maybe everything
will turn out okay,
I see that being open and ready
to receive the daily bad news
makes us stronger each day,
 
and to accept that while things aren’t set to improve just yet,
others have, or are experiencing similar or are suffering far worse,
and we must collectively fight with our inner strength
which makes battling these challenges so right, 
our quest to dispel this unseen danger every day and inky night.  
 
To be positive in a world that’s in a state of disaster,
it is wise and it is perfect to do so because it provides
us the hope that we need to keep on going,
positivity and optimism will never go astray,
they’re traits we should intentionally master.
 
While events and numbers may stare us plainly and cruelly
in the face,
I know I can absorb the news and tell myself,
it will get better, it’ll take time,
there are measures in place,
we must have faith.
 
And faith is what we really must grasp,
hold it above our heads graciously,
or clasp it to our chests,
and pray for deliverance from this evil seed
which has implanted itself into the fabric of each of our lives,
we will make it through this,
we simply needed to make some slight adjustments and sacrifice.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Holger Link on Unsplash

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Post: There is Hope – 14/04/20

There is hope if you look hard enough,
Among the shadows that lurk and loom,
No matter how difficult
To discern,
When our prying eyes have had enough,
We spot that glimmer,
That shimmer –

A glistening snail’s trail
Leading to that foreign place
That certainly is not home
But it calms you in a manner
Strangely stupendous
For something that is so
Different and odd to what would
Normally calm a throng.
 
And you sit there, quietly absorbing
That naked light,
A trailing of hope leading to
An outcrop, surrounding land full of shadows
Which has the power to relax you
With its scattered stars above,
An enormity, yet a closeness,
A childhood reminder of a time
That triggers something from afar.
 
And within you now a locket meets a key
And amazed you are
As your version of Pandora’s box flings open
But with a twist,
With internal, humble, resonant reassurances
You know there will be no casualties.

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

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April 14, 2020

Poem: Beacon of Hope – 25/01/20

A lighthouse up on the horizon signals
impending hope,
as a monument it shows that perhaps
Home is nearby.
 
Whose home, though?
Anyone’s, can be my guess,
mattering most is not whose ownership,
but the act of rescue by another,
of housing us,
encapsulation,
we’ll be welcomed after times of distress.
 
No need for self-destruction,
for surging waves of emotion to take o’er,
our boat will be held until its safe docking,
salvation is before our eyes.

And as we thank the strangers who pull us in,
their eyes wild with haste and pressure to correctly
drag our boat ashore
 
I silently thank the lighthouse
for shining unto us,
delivering exactly what was required during those moments,
to light our way and make explicit our terror to those
who happened to be within sight
of heaven’s raging crescendos.
 
© 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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January 25, 2020

Prose Poetry: Your Rainbow Warrior – 01/12/19

As a rainbow warrior, I take it upon myself to bring light into the world. I bear my brightness against the darkness within ongoing roads and winding fields. I take on the enemies within darkened dreams that tiptoe lovingly into darkly hued painterly scenes. I shine a kaleidoscope of colours into avenues and alleyways that promise naught but destruction and demise, and allow the travellers to wind down these paths with beauty and stars in their eyes.

No longer are they in hues of grayscale – black and white, a parched under-colouring of darkness and barely-pure light, instead they are bathed in pinks and blues, and greens and yellows, oranges, purples. Oh, what delight! Suddenly they feel alive, the lethargy which dripped and dragged from their souls now slides cleanly away, allowing them to breathe. And as their rainbow warrior who has taken it upon myself to save their lives from inaction, I know that even though they cannot see me, they are grateful for my intervention.

Because who wants to live in greyscale, a wishy-washy world of white and grey and black? Some might find this studious, perfect, but for myself I would ache if the colours were away. They brighten my mind, cause my smile, lift my spirit always, as I am the colourful child of this party, please allow me to be with you, and aid your brightening souls each day.

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December 1, 2019

Prose Poetry: Hope – 01/11/19

Hope is the feeling of a singing soul, the uprising of a perfectly white dove against the pristine blue sky, tickling its feathers in the tapestry of life. It is when our emotions run free, accepting of openness, love, and crystalline positivity. The promise of something only pure and of sincere goodness, that an individual cannot pull their eyes away from: the vision causes their heart to fill only with gladness and goodness. It is the sound of trickling water splashing quietly from a pond’s waterfall, the gentle and quiet understanding that of one’s future, you will be promised a special kind of scope, a reasoning in the mind and a strength within your soul, because the knowledge that arises is filled with hope for not you alone, but really for us all.

Reach within and draw forth the seeds and encumbering ropes of a fortune told with supreme justice and knowledge that you will succeed, that lives will always hold some form of glistening and gleams; a perfection that the dove flying overhead can provide for us, yourself, myself, whomever, those who we can encounter in the land of Inbetween. Because isn’t that the point of it all? — to be hopeful even when events present as darkened, depressing, dismal, hopeless even? Allow your light to shine from the dark, and illuminate all that you are. Hope is but a state of mind, a sense of emotion away, embrace the understanding that what is felt will ultimately compel goodness and sincere positivity to flow your way.

Poetry and Prose: Fractured – 09/10/19

Just because you’re fractured does not mean you’re falling apart. The pieces cracked, aged and suffering may in actual fact be a sign that you are needing to rearrange your heart, your mind, to replace into your hollows your startled, staring eyes. It doesn’t hurt to begin. There is no better moment than now to start.

Pick the pieces up from the floor, scattered there, left to right, abstract in motion, lying there, uncaring, when in reality they are waiting for you to pick them, to hear their whispers so softly spoken. Begging you to place them back into the right spots, to recomplete the image that is softening and full of love, yet vibrant and striking also, because you, you are the truest individual. You broke at a time when your name was being called the most. The pressure smashed you into tiny pieces on the floor, but you are still here, grappling, grasping at the pieces, while you are desperately on your knees. Don’t forget that completion and contentment can come from a harrowing experience, murmuring velveteen words at your ears as you cajole the irresponsible pieces back into place.

Fractured you might feel, fractured you may even be, but knowing that breakage is commonplace is the first step in retracing where each fragment should have been; each crack to shoulder or interlace one another until you once more regain your sense of self, and become that quiet but proud king or queen.

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October 9, 2019

Tag: hope

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