Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: literature

  • Poem: Enchanting – 31/08/21

    Poem: Enchanting – 31/08/21

    Visions beam, no visions blurred,
    enchanting be thy presence,
    welcome, my essence yours,
    entitled though the path once
    it might have seemed,
    bewilderment now as far as breath
    can be heaved.

    Pounding, irreverent,
    knocking at my door,
    ask permission?
    I insist you implore,
    wondering yet not at the soft curls
    upon my head,
    cascading down gentle curvatures,
    have I made my tired bed?

    I toss and turn in the night,
    nothing seems right,
    but in the distance I view something glisten,
    where hope forth does spring,
    listen…

    I’m excitable, not for tirades,
    but for what tomorrow may, will, might bring,
    dig deep, I tell myself,
    then a pause,
    complications await,
    none of this can be.
    My spirit, relentless, will still soar,
    regardless of the circumstance,
    I’ll fly with ease of modality, so free,
    consciousness, streams more and more.

    Await, await
    in my clouded dreams,
    visions pure, warmth assured,
    bring this to me,
    a powerful undertaking,
    a pull beneath the surface,
    wanton deliverance?
    No, I possess a different type
    of ethereal substance.  
    Or so it seems…
    a gentle knocking at my door.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Vines – 30/09/21
    Previous Post: Rain Dance – 29/08/21

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  • Poem: Prosperous Knowing – 28/08/21

    Poem: Prosperous Knowing – 28/08/21

    While there may be times,
    occasions,
    where our world eases it way out of a desired page,
    when the messages sent our way are not the type
    that we would want to have saved,
    why, we wonder, is our pathway so twisted,
    so many offshoots for us to forcibly explore?
    I’ll tell you this,
    we must map this path stridently,
    assuredly capture it as ours.

    Do not wander down garden paths
    that seem too delectable to be,
    neither stride down avenues that tempt and tease
    with outrageously perfect dreams,
    for life requires us to work, and work hard,
    and the blessings that are granted to us,
    we will accept them with open arms.

    Understand the wisdom we encapsulate
    while struggling and experiencing ease of flowing,
    momentous knowing in that we are not
    limited by our past incorrect understandings,
    moving into one path, one street,
    one highway, with prosperous thinking,
    I enable myself with wandering and openly flowing,
    how will you carry yourself in that path you are at last knowing?
    With beauty of inner understanding?
    Or proud stature, stately knowing?

    While we are complete the way that we are,
    there is always room for improvements,
    in the manner that I know we are capable of,
    personal growth, consciousness, our development,
    soul journeying as we’d never known it.
    Now’s the time for us to find it,
    for this mission, this power,
    for us to embrace and enable it.  

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: A Tremulous Tribute – 28/08/21

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  • Poem ~Stream of Consciousness: Precious Artefacts – 26/08/21

    Poem ~Stream of Consciousness: Precious Artefacts – 26/08/21

    breathe in with the power of my soul,
    my inner truth, I enter my cavern, the whirlwind of my mind
    as extravagant windswept daze enlightens every phase,
    whether past or present,
    it is whole, in the right place,
    about face, I will take
    the first step in knowing that I,
    I am the creator of what
    I need to manifest,
    I have the strength, the desire,
    the power, to make my world amazing or something worthy
    of being devoured
    whole,
    in momentum,
    perfection in its truest form is what I once sought
    but now, keeping them at the length of my arm are those
    conformers, that I needed to be right, look like this or that,
    pull these nonsense, commandeered thoughts out of
    my hat
    and now flutter my eyelids,
    softly, softly,
    my world is present but the glory I seek to view
    is pure in ecstatic goodness,
    I tap and tap my mind’s eye, hoping to draw
    feelings forth,
    activate something deeper within,
    and I smile to myself,
    what have I created, in this moment of
    manifesting madness?
    I look back upon the paper,
    turn behind me at the pavement,
    then two steps back and three steps forth,
    as I look over my warbling thoughts,
    I head north within,
    to seek more precious artefacts.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Soulful Nature – 26/08/21

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  • Poem: Welcoming Humanity – 17/08/21

    Poem: Welcoming Humanity – 17/08/21

    I lived a dream
    so raw, impure,
    and now it seems
    my path’s demure.

    Remaining chaste,
    living only for good,
    giving to the common man and woman
    like I know I should.

    Smiles all around,
    humble lips and ears,
    braggart not,
    enlightening my path
    as I resurrect it,

    my journey as I learn it
    I correct it,
    I accomplish some of my finest
    whilst living life in earnest.

    Ask me not of
    prior names,
    accolades nor
    feigned dames,

    no time assured
    from then to now,
    ask me not,
    for I won’t tell
    nor frown!

    Undoing that which
    needed to die,
    needles prickling
    where sleepin’ dogs lie,
    leave the past,
    search the present with haste,
    tomorrow is but a date,
    cement my fate!

    I can rest assured
    that future truths
    will be enriched with
    bounty of beauty,
    experiences willed,
    impassioned by thy Source,
    my energy thrives and lives,
    peace be unto
    this urchin, my sins
    I decided to forgive.

    Prior memories don’t last,
    I’m thankful to not recall,
    all in all
    I’m living, breathing
    my all,

    my search for myself,
    and my treasured path,
    with warmth,
    humanity is finally welcoming me,
    great love at last.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Poetry Collaboration by Amber and Lauren M. Hancock – Chrysalis of Hope – 16/08/21

    Previous Post: ‘Tween Hearts – 15/08/21

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  • Poem: With Ease – A Swan Song – 09/08/21

    Poem: With Ease – A Swan Song – 09/08/21

    Living for the momentum and
    living for the dream,
    thoughts tossed,
    bruised and broken,
    living despite ill feeling.

    The circumstances are these:
    I do not taunt, I do not tease,
    I live above and beyond,
    how I experience the world,
    predication, I know it, for these.

    Warble yet, my dear swan,
    gangly neck though thee has,
    I do not know, do not know,
    whether the games played,
    stone’s thrown,
    will seriously cause another to
    come undone,
    thoughts expelled,
    contemplative or mad.

    The truth, the fact of the matter is,
    I’m rather like my own swan of truth,
    interweaving elegance and wings which flap
    with ease,
    bright glide and there’s no other
    than that another,
    who knows of my true crazy patterns
    they’re lived, so breathed,
    within, deep personal power.

    For it is with fluidity, with comfortability,
    that I have been allowed to define,
    contemplation, rumination, no stagnation,
    progress within this virulent nation,
    why, is this not a sight for sorry eyes?

    Treasuring this life as mine,
    gracious though precious be,
    I am grateful for my life situation,
    so much is calling unto me.

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

    Previous Post: Refractions – 09/08/21

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  • Poem: Rose – 07/08/21

    Poem: Rose – 07/08/21

    What we are and what we feel are
    two different concepts,
    notions I need to feel,
    I watch from within as thoughts build and layers
    harden then peel
    like ancient flakes of house paint decorating
    that life we accepted and treasured within,
    I know through deep understanding
    that each flake tells a story,
    it’s witnessed so much of life
    to be felt, heard, and seen.

    What I feel is a blossoming,
    a wafting rose developing,
    from a tiny elaborate bud into
    much,
    much more,
    complexities created,
    so much in store,

    her fragrance is intoxicating,
    I do not yearn for anything but her
    in the morning,
    a pin-pricking, her warning,
    to be gentle with her,
    patience never stalling.

    A petal drops –
    by goodness, what a shame,
    her story is unfolding,
    but losing beauty? –
    should the ache in my heart refrain?
    Because it is with dying that she is
    breathing life,
    to live is to expire,
    but to experience is proof of internal fire.

    And her flames are astounding,
    she’s alive, so vivid now,
    effervescent, glowing
    the flakes of paint fall into an inferno,
    fuelling her understanding
    that to live is to capture and incinerate
    what the world deems as beauty,
    there’s much more to her presence,
    behind there is more than a duty,
    it’s a requirement fulfilled morally.

    And it is with experience that she
    continues to grow,
    her form is not lopped,
    stunted growth,
    to entertain others with her vision,
    with her dangerous thorns
    as protection,
    for her wonder in the morning
    and beyond,
    we think, we feel,
    we consider what she does,
    what notions there are to accept,
    as necessary?

    Sometimes it’s required that our awareness
    is measured,
    and our hearts, oh, our hearts,
    must begin to beat harder,
    no option for slowing,
    no option for stalling,
    they should continue to beat fiercely,
    uncontrollably.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Meghan Schiereck on Unsplash


    Previous Post: Distance – 06/08/21

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  • Poem: Rows of Rosies – 26/07/21

    Poem: Rows of Rosies – 26/07/21

    Rows and rows of rosies,
    we bend and sniff,
    achoo,
    we’ve more to fear these days
    than an ancient dreaded plague or flu,

    we link arms,
    ring-a-rosies,
    we hold each other tight,
    we’re here for all
    through thick and thin,
    through harsh morn’ scratchings
    and eerie dead of night.

    The home becomes a zone
    where no fresh soul shall pass,
    each contagion has already been
    unknowingly passed.

    Families isolate,
    quarantine with hope,
    watching loved ones repair themselves,
    immunity must grow,
    it’s the only option they must know.

    Recovery, or treatment
    when possible,
    required if ease of breath abates,
    this playtime of ring-a-rosies
    has been forgotten as of late,
     
    but still we all link arms,
    hold each other tight,
    spin, focus now, less our prior delight,
    for it is with determination,
    solidarity and fight,
    that we will win these battles,
    calm seeps into our nights.   

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Kate Greenaway in ‘Mother Goose’, sourced from Wikimedia, use under Public Domain

    Previous Post: ‘Perfect Imperfections’ – 24/07/21

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  • Poem: Battlefield – 19/07/21

    Poem: Battlefield – 19/07/21

    As I sit in my rocking chair
    I ponder to myself,
    what is there to contemplate or even know,
    how should I proceed in life,
    these stumbling blocks keep coming,
    they are rife,
    and they trash my days and hours,
    slitting them open like warm butter
    attacked with a knife.

    Eyes within, they glower,
    witnesses who think they know me more than me,
    so much better,
    they glance upon with mediocrity in their eyes,
    pity begins to flower.

    I cannot help myself,
    despairing feelings overwhelm,
    they irritate and sadden me all
    at the same time,
    emotions coagulate,
    they brew inside of me,
    whilst the others watch on freely,
    I’m ashamed in this moment
    to be such a sensitive entity.

    Because usually, generally,
    I am adamant,
    I do not let damp sadness get the
    better of me,
    and yet
    here I am,
    looking out upon myself,
    like a sad sack of sand on the pavement,
    where is my power,
    my strident ability to rise above
    this ailment?

    Still, I sit,
    rock and rock away,
    mechanically, forward and back,
    whiling away the day,
    and eventually, the aches and groans internally
    might fade away,
    there’s no room for brightness but
    at least the clouds have maybe cleared
    for the day.

    And perhaps this is all a mere moment which will
    pass away,
    the gloom will leave this room,
    this mental space, cavity, prison, I’ve assumed,
    soon I will take the reins
    and ride forward, tossing my mane here and there,
    astride will I ride into battle
    without a single care.

    And then I will pre-empt the almighty force
    that beckons and crawls to me
    making me feel so unassured,
    I will become belligerent toward the pain,
    I will hunt it down,
    I will triumph above,
    sadness squeals in vain,
    how about that,
    I tell the witnesses,
    as I dismount my beast,
    evermore the battlefields with my
    courage and valiant honour
    are stained,
    I have allowed them to see
    the true me.
     
    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Away Without Leave’ – 18/07/21

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  • Poem: Precious Penny – 14/07/21

    Poem: Precious Penny – 14/07/21

    And here we are,
    oysters, with caressing shells,
    guarding our precious cargo,
    treasures which bloomed,
    prized is our interior,
    luminescent, pearlescent factors,
    created by us,
    we are magicians,
    view our splendour,
    sorcery,
    shall we slay the mirror?

    For, creation,
    this semblance of wonder
    in our lives,
    the more I enter my
    inner being, the more
    I find my, our
    potential utterly amazing,
    to have created something
    from barely anything,
    such beauty,
    astounding.

    While pink is mine,
    yours is blue,
    together we ballooned
    with satisfaction and bliss,

    off the beaten track,
    lean in for a kiss,
    the farmer reaches in
    and wrenches Little She from me,

    and now, darling,
    bereft I am,
    so empty,
    they have taken away my precious penny,
    but it was meant to be this way.
    I create, they harvest,
    I am forlorn,
    used,
    but truly, before the thieving,
    I’m always treated like their princess.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Especially Now’ – 13/07/21

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  • Poem: Falsetto – 12/07/21

    Poem: Falsetto – 12/07/21

    The journey to discover,
    it appears to have come to an end.
    Searched high, falsetto,
    didn’t want to rock, rock the boat
    of common decency,
    wanted to learn to be sweeter,
    to please,
    inner authenticity,
    smiling wordings,
    positive painted pictures,
    poetry which aimed to dance
    with ease.

    I spoke with my soul,
    brightness, affirmations,
    drowned out true grit and longing,
    why couldn’t I write ‘me’?
    Wasn’t that a valid, true calling?

    Yet I let the yowling lay aside,
    slide away,
    grinning genuineness;
    I thought I was making better of myself,
    instead my vibrant pieces went away to hide.

    But I know now
    I must be true,
    speak my mind,
    my snide and smiles,
    character-crushing will never do,

    I must honour all facets
    of my personality,
    wrangle goodness and wit and charm,
    sardonic fingers play with ease,

    I am, I am, positive thoughts,
    these I do praise and commend,
    but I have to do this my own way,
    lest my validity go astray
    and I’m left with endangered
    shards to mend each day.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Our Rainbow’ – 11/07/21

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