Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: inner strength

  • Poem: Not Worth The Upsets – 21/09/21

    Poem: Not Worth The Upsets – 21/09/21

    Deliver me from the evils that await at the hands of certain beings,
    an understanding that what they project in life is the pain they’ve already been suffering,
    or a notion that the signs they exhibit are the nastiness wrought within their souls,
    perhaps they’ve been hurt already, perhaps they just have a cruel heart,
    perhaps we won’t know at all.

    But the missing pieces of the puzzle won’t inextricably fall into place,
    in fact, they might fall by the wayside under their devil’s sweeping cape,
    little minds who wish to play games may think theirs are engorged,
    but let me tell you this, dear friends,
    I believe bullying behaviour is extremely untoward.

    It’s as though they want to ruin another for their sheer pleasure,
    a wreaking of revenge because an ego became snowed under,
    I am the process, I am the deliverer,
    I will not allow myself from useless words to suffer.

    Stronger than the poison that seeps from veins,
    a fighter within,
    I shall never emit to them the words ‘je t’aime’,
    unworthy of my belligerence,
    untimely expulsions from my spirit,
    my perturbed soul,
    now I know,
    they weren’t worth the upsets at all.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Image source

    Previous Post: Obsidian – 19/09/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: “P.S. I’m still here” – 31/01/20

    Poem: “P.S. I’m still here” – 31/01/20

    P.S. postscript,
in little hummingbird whispers,
I’m still here.
 
Advantageous circumstances finally presenting themselves
from Heaven’s open hand,
her palm which begs me to take from her,
 
I deserve these now.
 
P.S., she whispers, in airy breath,
you’ve ached enough,
no longer will you suffer,

I am here to prove you worthy and kind,
your tears of tumult disguised in the once-silent study
where tattered and worn your stoic self became

now, those tears dry, crystallising, salty.
 
P.S. I whisper
tentatively
I am here

Like those words don’t belong,
I am still here, I repeat,
enunciated, strong.
 
I will remain fighting.

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

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • Poem: Finding Your Footing – 05/10/19

    Poem: Finding Your Footing – 05/10/19

     There may be occasions where you’ve lost your footing, 
    in fact, many times, possibly. 
    Where your legs and feet scrabble for a holding, 
    a firmer footing, to cease the potential of falling deep, deep below. 

    When your heart is almost in your mouth, 
    the fear is palatable, tastes of thick iron rust,
    the bloodied mess that is your broken organ, 
    still beating, but a complete and utter mess. 

    There may be occasions where you slip and fall, 
    into the abyss of the great unknown, 
    speaking of darkness and unsureness 
    and times of great distress and unknowing. 
     
    These, my friends, are occasions which enable learning, 
    where you can take what you will from the putrid or frightening moments, 
    and make of them something worthwhile, 
    a learning process where you drag yourselves up 
    and out of the murky dark.

    The strength of character displayed from 
    when you fall and how you pick ourselves up demonstrates a 
    certain strong will and determination 
    that I know you must be proud of possessing. 

    Because darlings, I know that you can make it 
    through these pains, these issues, 
    You’ve done it before, 
    And you can do it again. 
    Just listen to your aching heart and plaster it with bandages of courage; 
    You’ll make it in the end.  

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.


    Return to All Posts


    Home

  • Poem: Apparition in the Night – 04/10/19

    Poem: Apparition in the Night – 04/10/19

     The apparition comes in the dead of night
     One unblinking unnerving pupil
     A ghastly flowing body
      
     He enters my dreams soundlessly
     Through the cavities of my broken mind he travels quite efficiently.
     Never ceasing to amaze,
     This apparition knows how to communicate entirely wordlessly.
      
     How he emphasises his point
     Drives into the ground his defiance
     That his phantasmagoric appearance is required
     For with the night he has made an alliance.
      
     Tucked away within my mind is he
     The corners and avenues where he travels does he
     Knowing solely what he is looking for
     That one key for opening that mighty blocking locked door. 
      
     Then my secrets will spill forth,
     All, the lot of them
     To be viewed, 
     To be sifted through by him.
      
     He will never find that key
     Never, not even in my weakened state of sleep
     My dreams now provide a barrier
     Impenetrable they are, 
     No gaps, the lock is heavy, wrought, and my intention for it complete. 
      
     Phantom, you may now take leave of this scene,
     Your presence is unrequired here, 
     Your expulsion is as exactly as it seems.

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.


    Return to All Posts


    Home