Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
Where I can feel at home…
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. [...]
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.
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. [...]
Vivid waves heave then capitulate, hooves upon sand, gallant galloping, sun-drenched love; subtle stuttering, nervous selection, calm, controlling. [...]
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 [...]
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, [...]
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, 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. [...]
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 [...]
The heat takes to me as a tingle on my skin, raised endorphins still allow the stinging in, I feel faint, this warmth I hate, others are grateful, the cool change I await. Sweat begins to pool at the small of my back, the nape of my neck, I struggle, looking for relief, won’t the singeing rays abate? [...]
Brightness engulfs that wicked room where tales were never shared. Where fears, anxiety, irreverently unfold within the gloom, resting concerns upon one’s hands. There is a quietness which is perturbed by the stately arrival of glaring white and unnatural upheaval, a certain something, a funk, a stink, which would bring one to their knees, into the darkest of thickets, the tangled thorns, the trees, the thistles. [...]
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