Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: human condition

  • Poem: Rolling Waves and Green Pastures – 02/10/20

    Poem: Rolling Waves and Green Pastures – 02/10/20

    Rolling waves in my mind pass by,
    sumptuous, decadent,
    tidal, in their own time,
    I smile to myself as I feel the ebb and the flow
    of my thoughts travel singularly
    then as one,
    a conglomeration of multitudes,
    my will,
    coming along so beautifully,
    they could temporarily stun.

    This is my time,
    my springtime of my middle youth,
    where I have now grown and prematurely gone to pasture
    and I am taking in all I can,
    this is truth.

    I am relaxing in my moments,
    I am sinking in the hay,
    I am enjoying the fresh wind,
    the air,
    the breeze,
    it softens me,
    I smile to myself,
    and I wish that I could stay.

    I am at one with this world,
    I am becoming the strength I’ve long searched for,
    what I’ve needed,
    what I’ve come to depend upon others for,
    but now I am powerful,
    and I can ride those waves as though upon a creature
    battling the crests,
    with magical chimes and
    announcements sounding all around
    that I have arrived.

    I am profound,
    or at least, I believe I am,
    I hear these sounds,
    I take in the smiles,
    the welcoming body language and calls
    of my family,
    from the land, the water,
    the pastures,
    oh, such wanted sounds.

    I am accepted,
    but more importantly,
    I am accepting myself finally,
    I am here,
    in mind, body and spirit,
    finally,
    as one, not separate entities,

    and off the cuff,
    I compose gentle words in my mind
    as I watch the waves
    rise and fall,

    my heart,
    my mind,
    my presence,
    I will accept myself,
    flaws and all.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Suggestions – 30/09/20

    Poem: Suggestions – 30/09/20

    I can attempt to suggest,
    not forcefully,
    but subtly,
    allowing another to view
    from a different perspective.

    To take into account
    other angles of a problem
    and what can be
    done to cure what is
    ailing them.

    If not, altered alleviation
    can be key
    to disallowing inner frustrations,
    potential travesty,
    but only if the other
    is open –
    I only wish to promote
    self-healing.

    Unlocking those doors,
    breaking down those walls,
    allowing assistance in,
    I’m more than willing to listen,
    but hark,
    let me explain another position,
    there’s more than one way
    to describe Life’s unwanted conditions.

    I can extend my care,
    I wish to be supportive
    and understand
    the stressors,
    have them heard,
    felt, shared,

    but in the end
    I hope we can find
    a positive direction,
    not end up with us
    travelling in an argumentative direction.

    It’s important,
    I hope it’s known,
    that I do want,
    wish to be here
    and attend,

    but together let’s
    work at solving
    the problem
    with positivity,
    we can make a change of that
    poorly dealt hand.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Everton Vila on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Doubt – 29/09/20

    Poem: Doubt – 29/09/20

    Doubt niggles at me,
    pokes and gently prods as though irritating me to
    look at it.
    To understand my imperfections,
    my soul’s tiredness at having to point out
    these flaws,
    why do I feel unworthy for the Universe?

    But it’s nothing to do with that,
    it has everything to do with my perception,
    the way I look up to appreciate the heavens,
    within my heart I can grasp its acceptance,
    so why can’t I apply the same small principles to myself?

    Doubt is an insipid disease which weaves its way
    not only through your bloodstream
    but inside your marrow.
    It can become a part of you.
    It can become lively within you,
    thriving on the seeds of self-doubt you’ve
    cast within you.

    Seeds down, spread for the next harvest,
    they promise wealth, abundance, safety, security,
    but what does my crop promise me when fruitful?
    The doubt, the doubt, the doubt,
    it encompasses me whole.

    I must learn to be more accepting of myself,
    turning what I view as negatives into positivity,
    healing,
    protagonist of my life am I,
    I need not remain at home lamenting,
    ultimate melancholy
    simply because every time I realise what
    my earthly home, my corporeal form has become,
    all I feel is quiet shame
    and then I need to be alone.

    I have allowed my growth to rise forth
    and to affect me
    in a negative manner,
    but isn’t the doubt what’s calling me to
    behave so unappreciative?
    I don’t mean it to be this way,
    won’t it rain, it rain, it rain?
    Under the cleansing clouds,
    I will exist,
    to feel their wondrous power.

    Physicality, it’s merely our lent forms
    which we occupy each day,
    best take advantage my time here of Earth
    because those passed seconds and minutes
    will never return again,
    they will never have the chance to be recovered.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Criativithy from Pexels

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  • Poem: Light on the Horizon – 13/09/20

    Poem: Light on the Horizon – 13/09/20

    What is this headiness I feel
    when I gaze into the horizon?
    The feeling that everything will be okay reassures me,
    calms me during this fine day.

    The tears wept and shed a night prior
    which wracked my soul and
    reminded me of the reality
    we all face here
    have caused my body to ache,
    my head to suffer,
    but now, no more.

    The release, the utter flooding of emotion
    was required at the time,
    and while I rarely sob,
    it was something I needed to own,
    I realised how I truly felt inside
    which I don’t acknowledge most times.

    But the headiness when I gaze into the horizon,
    the colourful morning canvas splashed with
    resonating fire and pastel caresses,
    the sight welcomes me and makes certain that I will feel its
    strength and beauty within me each moment
    that I recall the vision in my waking dreams.

    There is nothing to mourn,
    only that which I should cherish,
    the time together,
    the future and present moments in which
    my mother and I can meld
    our spoken dreams, our woven company.

    I will remember these times,
    events, no matter that they were
    sometimes taken for granted,
    our time here is actually so precious,
    each moment spent with her is
    downright momentous.

    I want to recall the precious times,
    not remember any negativity or suffering.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Laib Khaled on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Honestly – 11/09/20

    Poem: Honestly – 11/09/20

    Honestly, where is the truth within
    that I’m trying to seek?
    The impermanence of self-esteem to be
    built up, energetically tremulous
    then monumental but still humbling when it’s finally seen.

    The lacking of needing the approval or
    presence of those I’ve come to depend on,
    because the truth is, for personal growth
    I must move forth, look forward.

    No sense of desertion,
    no,
    but a personal strengthening that allows
    a sense of self to be visible,
    not resisting the ability to think,
    to make a promise to myself that I must trust
    not only what I see,
    but what can flow within the stream of consciousness
    and lead into the flowing sea.

    I don’t know exactly what it is I seek,
    but perhaps a sense of serenity that allows me to
    feel I’m living my dreams,
    a wonderful step forward that there is set to take,
    a promise to myself
    that I am willing to make.

    To be the missing piece of someone’s puzzle
    is to first be strong in yourself,
    and I don’t want to be a pain,
    or depend upon anyone else.

    I want to fulfill my quest,
    I thought love was the only thing I sought,
    I’d cast aside so many other dreams and yet,
    I am back,
    I am here,
    and I will become stronger,
    achieve my dreams,
    I will reach them, there is nothing to fear.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Laura Vinck on Unsplash

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  • Poem: The Inner Swirl of Frustration – 07/09/20

    Poem: The Inner Swirl of Frustration – 07/09/20

    Frustrations have been beckoning at my door.
    The floating, negative energy swirls full in my belly,
    it calls for something else to prey on,
    catcalling, cruelly,
    some more.

    Am I not enough for its appetite?
    Does this feeling need to engulf every part of me,
    washing me, wading through me, the feeling that I have
    never desired to seek?

    But then, I take a step back.
    I stop pursuing that which is causing me to feel… less,
    useless, even though the feeling, causation, is unintended
    at that.

    I am feeling managed,
    time-poor by choice, that behaviour does not suit me,
    I cannot help how I’m feeling,
    but it’s somewhat unappreciated.

    There may be recoil from my words,
    there may be consequences,
    but I must speak my emotions,
    let them loose,
    I’m no longer crying them aloud,

    I simply want an acknowledgement and changed behaviour,
    that which shows a permanent change of tune.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Ryanniel Masucol on Pexels.com

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

    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: Brave – 20/08/20

    Poem: Brave – 20/08/20

    This is dedicated to my mother.

To be brave means to ignore that knot in your stomach,
to fight its twists and turns,
to be resilient within oneself,
to know all will be fine even if there’s a chance it won’t.
 
To be brave is to put on that face of strength
for your friends and family,
to not allow yourself to crumble within,
to take everything within your stride,
to face this with a smile,
a smirk, a grin.
 
To be brave is to research absolutely everything,
to be most informed means to be most prepared
for if all the details and statistics are known,
does this not mean a more intelligible road?
 
You are brave --
I can hear and see the positivity
in your words and eyes,
not once have I seen a tear shed,
body curled in suffering or misery within your bed,
and most certainly it’s because I know
that for you, yourself,
you understand you must be strong.
 
To make it through this with positivity and hope,
there is hope you’ll get through it soon enough,
this is the means through which you cope.
 
We are here for you at every turn,
here to offer calming cups of warm water,
or offer company, to sit quietly,
you bravely speak with close others
of the path ahead
as though its nothing,
nothing to worry about,
because you, you know you will mend.
 
There is only brokenness within,
and it’s a physical not mental state,
I never see any signs of mental suffering,
perhaps you hide it away from me,
expel it softly in your room when it becomes very late.
 
But for your journey,
you have no need to prove that you are brave
because I already know it
and now I’m truly seeing it,
you will make it through this storm,
you’ll become right as rain.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Duncan Sanchez on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Positive/Negative – 13/08/20

    Poem: Positive/Negative – 13/08/20

    I find it hard to write about positive things,
of trees that wave within the breeze,
of hearts conjoining, brilliant eyes meeting
yet still sleepy in the morning,
of puppies playfully pouncing on their owner’s chest,
of a baby’s breath rustling quietly whilst she’s in bed,
her subtle yawning.
 
I find it difficult to write about the joy of nature,
to write about the light within the sky,
describing it in a manner that’s perfect for its
sumptuous bursts of coloured fire.
 
I find it easier to describe the desolate,
and the despairing,
the pain and suffering that my heart and mind have met,
I find it hard to scrawl about that warmth in the sky and how
it affects my mind, makes me want to fly,
I find it hard, not to speak of such things,
but to detail them when I write.
 
I am over-practiced with explaining the darker side of my life,
my saddened feelings,
the heightened strife,
I may be a happy person beneath it all,
but I certainly know how to make it clear
that I have been affected negatively;
somehow, I always end up letting you all know.
 
I find it hard to not be depressing
as I sit here penning, I find it difficult to flip the switch
and create something bright and sparkling,
something that will brighten your mood and something
that will heighten your morning,
alleviate your prior suffering and send you into a
state of smiling
that is most definitely worth experiencing,
something that will last longer than a feeling of saddened knowing.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Mathieu Stern on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Elegantly Numb – 12/08/20

    Poem: Elegantly Numb – 12/08/20

    When will you realise that to be elegantly numb is not courageous
but is rather like dragging fingernails across a broken board?
I understand the need to be empty and without feeling,
but this is not something to aim for,
best be open in what one is saying,
drag forth the pain and suffering to the morning,
to be laid upon the ground to be judged in its sheer distress,
an understanding that really, being unfeeling is nothing to reach for,
you must, we must keep deeply breathing.
 
To be elegant is to be stylish, graceful, beautiful,
to be numb, without any feeling, is quite the opposite, I feel –
why aim for this?
 
Some may think that it is a purposeful venture,
that there is melody in winding with notes of brutal,
unspoken tunes to be slotted together in a row,
a personal choir, an understanding that while magic can rise forth
from between their lips,
to be numb inside,
for the creation of music of the soul,
it is counterintuitive.
 
Rise forth from the personal gloom!
Let us improve our lives as we see fit,
and by that, I mean elevating our roles
which are not living for pain and suffering –
sometimes it is inevitable,
these sorrows in life,
but it is not outside of our means to alter
our perspective.
 
While one woman may be ailing from physical suffering,
another from emotional distress –
aren’t the overall effects the same thing?
And really, understanding that the viewpoint could need altering
to envelop these women and pillow-soften them from their suffering,
it is so important to consider and see.
 
But, there is no reason to make yourself numb simply
so you cannot feel,
understand the circumstances of your life better,
analyse them, truth be told, be bold,
and know that the while the circumstances may not change,
the reaction is coming solely from you.
 
Open the structure of your heart,
allow access,
and make others feel not your distress,
but view your kindness and worth plain to see,
you’re art,
you always were,
allow your heartbeat to run and run,
and now, with feeling,
breathe.

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

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