Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: literary

  • new life

    what i need to do

    what im trying to do

    is clear the toxicity from my words and my mind

    its a journeying

    its a process

    humbling it is in style

    to wake up and realise how irreverent I’ve been

    so utterly disrespectful to the ones i love and need

    i am ruining them i have ruined them

    their hearts and minds within a dream

    by aching words i am now suffering

    feeling the pain at knowing what i said how i spoke

    was far less than comfortable or tame

    i can only bleed so much energy for i am splattering with ease

    the ink blots the chimney tops

    roar to life as burn pillage the hunted one

    but i am here i am resting relaxing my ailing mind

    and somehow ill know ILL KNOW that i will make it through again

    turning over those hinting leaves
    and reassuming my good goals

    (c) Copyright 2022. Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.

  • Poem: Wisdom Gleaned (09/10/21) – 28/11/21

    Poem: Wisdom Gleaned (09/10/21) – 28/11/21

    Author’s note:
    Sometimes I like to look back at my drafts and see what was on my mind months prior, and how I constructed these realities into rhymes and words to soothe myself, express anger, frustration, upsets, or some such. This piece I feel still has some of these truths ringing in my current reality. Hence, I thought I would share it with you here today.

    ***
    Unusual,
    preposterous be these claims
    that I am not worrying about anything
    that should make me feel ashamed,
    prisms of brightness flow,
    spark within me,
    as I recall these times
    when my breath caught
    in my chest:
    of love, they made me
    believe.

    But these are lost,
    fallen from grasp,
    and memory is phasing,
    walls erected,
    happiness failing?

    How can it be,
    but I am more satisfied
    alone,
    in my own company?
    My own lair,
    my very own home.

    Tirades now gone,
    absent,
    I can breathe,
    I don’t have to deal
    with issues that
    seemingly are only
    surrounding me
    and what I could and
    cannot provide,
    why, I’ve no further time to
    unravel that,

    I cannot give what
    I can’t,
    I don’t want to
    fall again into a rut,
    nor hastily fall and slide.

    Some may think it
    selfish to look out
    for myself but why,
    at the detriment of
    myself would I allow
    my joy to be dragged down?

    I cannot make anyone happy
    if it’s myself I need to provide,
    happiness determined solely
    through another?
    I can’t be along for
    that ride.

    Better yet to travel
    on my own,
    scenic, wisdom procured,
    certainly homegrown,
    I will continue
    and perhaps I’ll find
    something right,
    if not, no matter,
    because it’s my life,
    and I’ll decide,
    decide what I’ll provide,
    on my terms it’ll be,
    because this is my journey,
    why shouldn’t I be
    satisfied with my choices?

    For me, they must be right.
    I hope one day this will
    be seen.
    (09/10/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Image source: Photo by Alesia Kozik on Pexels.com

    Previous Post: the owls – 27/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Previous Post: the owls – 27/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: The Flea Market Contraption – 15/07/21

    Poem: The Flea Market Contraption – 15/07/21

    The flea market presents –
    options – one-of-a-kinds,
    and rip-off pieces,
    poor imitations,
    badly woven threads,
    lurid patterns,
    blatant patent breaches seen,
    and the imaginary,
    the ingenuity,
    and the copies of a land
    in between.

    I peruse the stalls,
    pace back and forth,
    my timid tippy-toes,
    they don’t guide me,
    they don’t lead me,
    I’m unsure of what to
    sample in this flea market
    land I’m in.

    Some ideas are magical,
    well-presented products,
    smartly dressed merchants
    in hide-away stalls,
    others are horrid,
    they hurt my eyes,
    these products, rubbish,
    unworthy of meeting
    hands or eyes.

    Amongst the trash and beauty,
    objects I see,
    I spot a contraption that
    might be for me.
    It is the making of
    cloudy billowy dreams,
    sanctified, certified?
    No, but perfect for I.

    It promises to churn through
    all my ideas,
    promises to rid me of
    encumbering fears
    and will lay away
    any confronting questions
    thrown my way,
    it will replenish my mind
    for many days.

    A mind-clearer,
    a dream-recycler,
    a precious gatherer
    of many mental pictures,
    the imagery within,
    perhaps barely initially seen,
    unclouded, decoded,
    all work done,
    prepared for me!

    But then I wonder
    is this not like a disease?
    Something which eats away,
    erodes at my dreams?
    Erasing me in ways
    I dare not speak,
    by bluntly, superficially
    simplifying me?

    And I cannot have this,
    I must remain complex,
    hard to delve into,
    thoughts difficult to be met,
    and so away with
    this idea,
    this contraption for me,

    I’d rather be convoluted,
    a puzzle unsolved,
    until I’m ready to make
    the pieces fly free.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by aytuguluturk from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Adorn’ – 14/07/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Tall Stars – 08/07/21

    Poem: Tall Stars – 08/07/21

    Closing time,
    the curtains shut,
    enough of this pantomime;
    we’ve watched smouldering stars.

    Time and time again
    we’ve viewed crashes and burns,
    from deep evening
    into the precious morn.

    As surely as they’ve arisen,
    they began spectacularly falling,
    stories resplendent,
    some unusually stalling,

    highlights of the millennium,
    highlights of the times,
    wonder not at their endings –
    significant pages finally calling.

    And duration of life
    seems longer
    the more we linger,
    beckon, tempt
    the stories further,
    coax forth –
    encouraging hands and fingers.

    Stars, tell your tales,
    share your stories in full,
    otherwise relinquish your memories
    to the handsome, awaiting Moon.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Rakicevic Nenad from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Sing My Melodies’ – 07/07/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Please, Stay – 05/07/21

    Poem: Please, Stay – 05/07/21

    Stay with me,
    this vision of a feeling,
    sheer emotion
    rising from within me,
    encompassing the mess
    that lay within
    during times of
    poor judgement,
    rash decisions
    and vile reasonings.

    Now Past’s errors are
    captured as though in a
    flighty balloon,
    or heaved, sunk stone to disguise
    the hefty nature of
    a life once deemed
    unworthy of being known,
    one in which I formerly believed
    I was adamantly, freely living.

    Fall into a deceptive pool,
    just beneath the surface,
    body of water,
    a sheen of gullibility,
    naivety,
    surface emotions,
    poor behaviour —
    publicly speaking.

    The idea of remaining
    does not scare me,
    in fact, regularity fills me
    with radiant resonance,
    but is there a tired, hidden belligerence,
    attracting some beings’ yawning?

    Contentious may be my emotions to share,
    is there need to prepare for reactivity,
    surely this is all part of the process?
    I nod to myself knowingly.
    I dared;
    I shared.
    But will candour equate to care?

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Mikhail Nilov from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Curl’ – 03/07/21

    Post: Chapbook Release Day! Keepsakes of Hope and Despair – 04/07/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Vivid Waves – 01/07/21

    Poem: Vivid Waves – 01/07/21

    Vivid waves heave then capitulate,
    hooves upon sand,
    gallant galloping,
    sun-drenched love;
    subtle stuttering,
    nervous selection,
    calm, controlling.

    Rise forth, my tidal queen!
    Wreak havoc upon all that
    you might see,
    open your waters,
    a space to reside and breathe,
    positive intent;
    entangled seaweed.

    Salted air attends to
    loose hair,
    beachy waves tossed, combed,
    flicked, without concern,
    fingers drag through piecey sections
    without a single care,

    and internally the
    thunderous towering beauties
    envelope a stray swimmer,
    sadly, his time,
    can’t you see?

    Wondering, wandering,
    bang, crash, decimated,
    the still–mood in my mind,
    I am plagued by naught,
    freed by the fragranced sea air.

    This is the air that I subsist on,
    this is the air that I breathe,
    envelope, my waves,
    this tidal queen,
    lest I settle beneath,
    to my home underneath the sea.  

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Jess Vede from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Unexpected Callers ‘ – 29/06/21

    The Aesthete Blog Award! – 30/06/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Personal Growth and Sunshine – 31/01/21

    Poem: Personal Growth and Sunshine – 31/01/21

    The sunshine drips through my windowpane, 
    illuminating, brightening, my heart, my mind, 
    I am finally at peace, 
    there’s no need to search nor find, 
    I am satisfied, satisfied 
    with the breath of my life, 
    my soul it feels so light and kind. 

    Nevermore will I search arduously, 
    high and low, 
    painful, the path impatient but slow 
    for completion through others, 
    through acceptance and approval, 
    why, what is the point in it all?

    External throes, 
    moments wrestling in mental snow, 
    lack of understanding in ways that weren’t meant to be known. 

    I am within my aura of acceptance, 
    there’s a certain feeling of knowing and being, 
    truth and understanding,
    being comfortable within oneself is actually somewhat amazing, 
    this growth has occurred seemingly quickly, 
    but it has been many years in stagnant making, 
    unseen anticipation, 

    and now I’m finally here, 
    it’s time to work on others things, 
    but always being thankful and grateful for everything I have, 
    and the events, trials and tribulations I’ve experienced and seen, 

    I must know that there were others playing supportive hands too, 
    but most of all, 
    maturity and experiences have helped me make it through,
    I am blessed, 
    not the member of a group who felt unfairly damned.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: A Timely Smile – 28/01/21

    Poem: A Timely Smile – 28/01/21

    This smile, she is timely,
    she has arrived well and alive,
    with her presence her owner will revive,
    feel stronger,
    amazing,
    and whole.

    There were calls for her demise,
    suffocations of her interior,
    breath caught in her lungs,
    catching at the escape,
    wishing for the air never to be free nor fly,
    but now, a rapid sigh of relief,
    a time of kingly brightness and benevolence
    as a hand reaches out to warm and caress.

    The air no longer is dry, dead,
    nor stale,
    but the validity of her smile is it’s alive
    for all to see:
    we can see those teeth flash bright for miles and miles.

    And the succinct fact is the woman’s happy,
    she doesn’t need to be given this or that to be lively,
    she is creating her life as priority,
    her satisfaction as part of her personality,
    she’s no longer reaching out to all as an anomaly,
    wishing to appeal or appease,
    no, those moments begged for her to leave.

    She wasn’t required,
    she wasn’t necessary,
    but she is enough, enough,
    she calls freely,
    a triumphant self-awareness of her worth and truth,
    there’s no cause for her persistence to be belittled,
    for between those days and now there is
    much mental and physical distance to view.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Vicky Hladynets on Unsplash

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: Breaking News – 27/01/21

    Poem: Breaking News – 27/01/21

    The journey is almost over, 
    the pain, the suffering, the ailing, 
    all to be washed away from the nights and the mornings, 

    the bravery is there to be seen, 
    highs and lows, during so much time, 
    she’s been stoic throughout it all, 
    the therapy has not seized her courage, 
    or taken away her positivity,

    she’s been fighting and carrying on
    throughout what has sometimes been a struggle,
    demonstrating her resilience and capabilities. 

    Today’s the second last session, 
    she has strength within, 
    she has power throughout, 

    the flushing of medications promises
    one more attendance
    to be borne with a grin, 

    I am proud of her quiet resolve, 
    and with this illness 
    she has demonstrated the ability to combat the ill emotions, 
    upsets and suffering, 
    her coping strategies long ago set into motion,
    brightness in moving forward and re-focussing.

    She will walk away from this time with her head held high
    knowing she’s combatted this illness as though
    it’s barely stopped her,
    hardly stalled her in her tracks,
    hardly sent her life awry,

    she’s been able to fight through the side effects,
    has kept herself busy,
    has remained hopeful,
    even when she was feeling so poorly and weak,
    she approached it with the hope of a new tomorrow.

    And I know that when she strides away from that seat
    that final time,
    triumphant in heart, body and mind,
    she will feel oh, so fine
    that she’s combatted this
    in the best way she could have handled it,
    my gracious mother of mine.

    We await the opportunity to celebrate this milestone,
    hers and our relief together in due time.

     © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Diego PH on Unsplash

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: Not Quite a Love Song

    Poem: Not Quite a Love Song

    Allow the dripping of honey to coat the seconds together, 
    let the hearts join during the moments of playful banter, 
    but don’t permit the times to destroy the frivolity, 
    the joy, 
    the joviality, 
    to switch to seriousness, 
    to gruff, forlorn momentum,
    for the arrangement of seconds to become
    less than tidy. 

    There is not rhythm nor rhyme to analyse
    this time, 
    the now-saccharine aftertaste should wane, 
    and wane, and wane
    if it were to be misconstrued, 
    to take back the past would be in vain.

    This is not a love song, 
    this is not a calling to come along, 
    but what it is is a momentum, 
    a continuum, 
    from sadness through to healing, 
    learning to accept friendship amongst the dreaming.  

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home