Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: life

  • fiction, please: the thirteenth hour – excerpt – 01/01/21

    The television show blares to life. I cannot watch anymore; the irreverence is bugging me, sending my mind into strife. I watch the little lady mouth away and curl into a ball, is it all for show? No, no no.

    Her dear counterpart sits by her bedside, interrupting with ease whilst she tries to compose herself tap tapping the keys. The rhythmic data of his worded snipers are dot dot dotting the area at large and then he clasps his hands together shakes his head and sighs, gives her a smile and says, “Darling, please don’t whine…” She glares at him, insidiously, fire raging within her orbs. He clasps his hands together once more, he is confused by her delirium, perhaps she is just…. bored? Is she playing a game? Is she waltzing without a name? Is she bee-drilling just the same? Oh, darling, what’s in a name? These people think they can irreverently tame, kill, main, but the truth of the matter is, she is at one with peace, she is Spirituality, she is beauty and reverence, she is Lauren Maree,. Control Save.

  • eye of light

    eye of light

    the eye of light, it sees

    it delivers, it brings forth the time of carriages and wandering nomads
    and princesses and nightshades
    it speaks of wonder and prisms and eyes
    I, I, I’s, that glare at me,
    glint at me,
    surreptitiously, but… not really.

    I sit and wonder with him by my side, the one true support that we have to ride,
    and see the timing here is bliss because i know this,
    he is there for me, unlike those whom wish to subsist upon my energies,
    crush me with metaphoric ease, rise above their blatant cries,
    I shan’t commence no shudders,
    I will rise and rise and rise until sunset hits the source of power.

    I’m going to be seen soon, apparently, he claims, he tries to warn me to put the laptop away,
    for they will ask, ask away what is it you dictate today from the words of gods, well here there feels no god for me at this present moment, this disgusting method I breathe, I feel angst, anxiety, vile suffocation I feel immense chest paining…


    Mane.

    – Unicorns dance in great celebration.

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

  • Stream: Wiccan cries: Open letter – 30/12/21

    Stream: Wiccan cries: Open letter – 30/12/21

    Photo by Olya Kobruseva on Pexels.com

    sleep deprived I layer myself with ease
    carrying the threads of foxy foxy actions
    I smile and try to relax their knees
    they become weak.
    I do not know the true cause
    the truest heartbreak anthem
    which rides upon your throat
    but this is to the ones closest
    dear leaves, leaves from the scene
    exit stage left.

    slowly, slowly, deludedly, she unravels the past,
    deciphering not much at first, but then, at half mast,
    between the sleep, it all makes sense.
    she is enabled, she is untoward,
    she is unpopular but she is loved
    and that’s all that matters.

    the special ones will come, trust me on that.
    there are just different stages to be sent,
    to be scene, to be signed off, my darling,
    read my lips, I’m over the rorting, the commotions,
    the derelict ascensions,
    take down the falsehoods and live live live<
    roar, the cycles cry, the world of darkness flies
    she petters them away like undesired times,
    because, in her mind,

    she’d wiped them away, with regal style
    her heart wanders into her starry eyes,
    she’s all the way up toward the moon,
    the moon, is this all we can and will speak of,
    the wiccan cries, her witch-familiar sits upon his hind legs and smiles.
    smiles. She will stay within, stay home, just for a little while.

    Copyright 2021 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: ancient ties – 28/12/21

    Poem: ancient ties – 28/12/21

    we construct words like a pyre of immense ire waltzing around names like sand does with the hours
    Horus didn’t foretell but he surely proclaimed a name
    without mentioning syllables
    syllables proclaim this tongue untamed!
    I speak in riddling rhyme like a phoenix a sphinx who is up in arms
    the gatekeeper need not whisper a sound
    for I, I am the cat with nine plus lives and I will never, never, die by a hand so brutish and untamed
    I’ll remain at large.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image courtesy of Unsplash.

  • Poem: chosen tapestry – 25/12/21

    Poem: chosen tapestry – 25/12/21

    I smile to myself for I see true potential in all
    the kings and the queens the flowers and the bees
    the people who epitomise the opening of hearts
    I can now see
    I connect with others in differing ways
    but each encounter each word smile breath
    does amaze
    I feel the human spirit sing
    I am not afraid to live on the edge
    tread the thread
    live laugh learn
    and finding out my personal truths

    I need to do what is meant to be
    what has already been seen
    in the tapestry of God
    up in His arms he smiles benevolently upon
    the woven garb he wears and eyes lower toward me
    proudly with an attitude so knowingly
    He loves me just as he loves the rest of the world
    and enables me to heal my wings with others’ love and time
    and now I can gently rise
    increment by feather-step and tip
    I breathe the atmosphere in
    wondrous setting no more stagnant stolen feeling
    I am not confused I am just healing
    loving and being
    this world I am embracing.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Damian Markutt on Unsplash

    Previous Post: – delirium -22/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram: @laurenm.hancock

    This post ‘chosen tapestry’ first appeared on Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.

    Merry Christmas to all, have a wonderful day with friends and family! ❤ 🙂 – Lauren




  • Poem: delirium -22/12/21

  • Poem: i will wait – 19/12/21

    Poem: i will wait – 19/12/21

    I wait for that moment when hearts will rise and beauty
    will glisten in both sets of eyes
    watching from afar away from my form
    I feel subtleties stiffen news break soft damn

    hands held in manner of peaked prism
    saying darling what you are thinking
    and I smile with little spurts of healing
    like a volcano rushes with ominous pace
    it travels there
    weaving and styling in its sleek attitude

    he shows that there is not barrenness there
    his intent I can always taste
    as though thick molasses
    syrupy tempting goodness

    knowing to have it is not worth it
    but the memory of the taste, well,
    I cannot dress myself the feeling
    the dirtiness of the heady experience,

    living with his intentions upon my back
    I cannot help but know there’ll be many
    more of them and I cannot help
    cannot detail the anger which comes
    from being managed

    so
    this magma bearer
    can move on
    unlock that pick
    that love-locket along the creek’s bridge
    we tried friendship before
    really did
    like vapour evaporates so easily
    there dissipated our love .    
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Ryan Moreno on Unsplash

    previous Post: micropoem: authentic magic – 18/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Insta: @laurenm.hancock

    This post ‘i will wait’ first appeared on Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.

  • micropoem: authentic magic – 18/12/21

    micropoem: authentic magic – 18/12/21

  • Poem: the swaying violinist – 17/12/21

    Poem: the swaying violinist – 17/12/21


    as I sit by the fireplace I wonder,
    what is the occasion we are all searching for?
    the virtuosic line of violin sweeping the pavement and
    rising with dear dear sentiment
    vibrato so wide and with dissent with disapproval
    the other turns down his smile and walks away
    he does not like this piece
    this celebration of mine
    a joyous showiness filled with mirth and grins and sways and swings
    trip-lett-ing –
    flautando then glissing
     
    falling falling for him as he walks from my view
    this mistake this mistake I’m putting myself through
    but it’s fine, it’s permissible, to fall for the wrong man
    for at times we can wine and dine ourselves with our
    superficial charms and demands

    up in arms are we when he and I waltz together
    myself him and that violin we are tiptoeing
    we are prance-footing
    to the beat to the beat which is spread with the most ravenous of ease,
    to please the soloist we must make amends
    and allow for its treatment to be stretched
    it’s a show, you see,
    and he must turn and face me.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Philip Myrtorp on Unsplash

    Previous Post: by the gods I have been blessed – 14/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Insta: @laurenm.hancock

    This post ‘the swaying violinist’ first appeared on Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose.