Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: joy

  • 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: Springing Forth – 10/10/21

    Poem: Springing Forth – 10/10/21

    I feel a sense of hope,
    of positivity and
    brightness,
    I need not want
    for anything
    because happiness,
    I already have it,
    it’s that glimmer of
    ostentatious gold
    which drips with
    wanton thread,
    grasping my eyes with its beauty,
    wonder to the skies to be had.
    This hope is already present,
    I finger it, golden beads,
    like rich fruit dripping from
    luscious mango trees,
    and here and now,
    with gentle abandon
    I will come undone,
    this superfluous yet entirely
    wanted feeling of joy
    springs forth,
    Hope, my friend, of you,
    I know.
    It’s not like anything I’ve
    experienced before,
    I cannot fathom this dire need
    that begged me to change, change, change
    for my outlook
    was pessimistic indeed,
    but with this glimmer,
    these shining drops of sparkling
    gold that I clutch
    tightly to my chest,
    I am happy,
    I am present,
    I smile without corners
    of my mouth trembling,
    I’m comfortable,
    and this is a fact.
    I can look each of you
    in the eye and tell you
    with conviction indeed
    that my heart is again
    beginning to blossom
    and I’m doing it,
    purposefully, on my own,
    with subtle ease,
    can’t deny myself from
    embracing happiness,
    joy,
    I won’t allow any to
    dampen my spirits,
    if you’ll let me,
    permit me to rise with you,
    together, discomfort,
    unease,
    we can conquer it.
    Bliss can only be
    but fingertips away,
    present, invisible in
    the moment,
    yet experiences waiting
    to be had
    day by day,
    it will only take
    introversion,
    delicacy,
    and confidence in myself,
    and telling myself
    I am worth it,
    there is always justification
    to further delve.
    (08/10/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Coagulate – 08/10/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Rain Dance – 29/08/21

    Poem: Rain Dance – 29/08/21

    Though the clouds are heavy with sadness,
    I look to them not with madness,
    but with joy, irreverent laughter
    and thrown wide open arms.

    Calling them,
    cajoling them,
    to gush forth with their tears
    so I can dance away ‘neath their offerings,
    jive away my encumbering fears.

    We won’t be held inside forever,
    we won’t be made to rot,
    we won’t be isolated, friends and extended family
    far from us,
    look to the future, misery it is not.

    When the clouds break into their grumblings,
    their downpour speaking of their expelled sufferings,
    I will stay washed all squeaky-clean in morning,
    falling, I view joyous watery callings.

    It’s all in the perspective, is it not?
    I view their drops with mirth,
    for I love to dance and I love to fly among
    the puddles made of liquified dirt.

    Optimism for our future,
    lockdown won’t last for life,
    embracing the spirit of the watery clouds,
    underneath the pitter-patter I feel so alive.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Prosperous Knowing – 28/08/21

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  • Poem: Bright – 21/08/21

    Poem: Bright – 21/08/21

    Nothing to be depressed about,
    so positive,
    so joyous – so free,
    encumbered paths we could say
    but ecstatic I choose to be,
    it’s about which side to view
    and walk alongside Life,
    I could pinpoint, acknowledge,
    tiny points of strife,
    elaborate,
    with magnitude,
    some attitude filled with,
    rife,
    with annoyance, with irritation,
    or feelings of ‘discrimination’.

    But the truth is I’m blessed
    to be here, well and breathing,
    the strength, resilience, in
    myself and others I am seeing,
    I could list all that’s here for us,
    right and lasting,
    lingering,
    hope, especially,
    is something I am carrying.

    I am grateful for my health,
    my family, my dear friendships,
    my comforts, and deep love,
    Life’s material things,
    those which bring comfort,
    music, sound, paint,
    art, colours, company combine,
    I don’t chose to inhabit positivity —
    instead it’s bred within me.

    Cast aside, long ago,
    the feelings of downbeat,
    downtrodden,
    the ‘world’s against me’s’,
    I didn’t need to be like that,
    to live like that,
    it was so stifling,
    couldn’t breathe.

    Negativity can suck one into
    its slimy, vicious grasp,
    no enlightenment within,
    to exist then – what a task.

    Turned about face to the sun,
    arms thrown open,
    embrace that amazing warmth,
    while I could find saddening points to exist upon,
    I’ve decided instead to be
    bright, bright, bright,
    radiance fills my lark-song.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Adore – 20/08/21
    Previous Post: Viewing Me – 19/08/21

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  • Poem: The Essentials – 11/06/21

    Poem: The Essentials – 11/06/21

    Pack only the essentials,
    come along for the ride,
    our path ahead, awaiting,
    let’s take back those
    glorious moments in time.

    We’ll wheel our way
    through the visions,
    ride with hearts
    beating, brimming, full,

    courageous in the circumstance,
    trying tribulations
    were proof.

    Rise higher yet,
    our world will
    not be done,
    barrel our way
    into the sunset,
    obtuse were they,
    those lies about us they spun,

    we’ve only packed the essentials,
    it’s just you and I this time,
    ride together like the wind,
    forever ticking, mutual time.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Kindel Media from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Proof of Growth’ – 10/06/21

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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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  • Prose Poetry: Illuminate – 19/04/21

    Prose Poetry: Illuminate – 19/04/21

    Sometimes, there’s something magical in the air. You can feel it permeating your skin, your muscles, the tendrils of your hair. That electrifying feeling that courses through your very veins, warming you and making you feel loved, and reassuring you that everything, everything will be okay. 

    There is a time in the future when you will feel this, too. Don’t worry your heart about whether it will come, or if it won’t, when, how, or where, how far away, or soon. There is something amazing out there waiting for you, if you desire to take it by the hand: allow it, her, him, whomever, to walk with you, into the Great Unknown, and begin to slowly and freely breathe again. 

    Allow yourself to not be encumbered by the pains of yesterdays. Lift your head higher, let your heart pound with hope, dispel the dismay. And understand that there is a light at the end of everything dark, if we only allow ourselves to open up. There is a choice to be made, to bring forth illumination and joy, or remain in the shadows, though I know, sometimes, this isn’t a choice. In such cases, let others help and hold you up, take their embraces, their kind words, loving and such, because with support, we can make it through the pain and distress, life is for living, not suffering, and I’d hate for anyone to lose sight of what could begin again. Peace, light, love to you, and in your heart, begin in hope to trust.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

  • 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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