Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: literature

  • Prose: Proof of Growth – 10/06/21

    Prose: Proof of Growth – 10/06/21

    Moving onto a fresher path, worn yet torn, new grew from old, my life-long exception, a promise for long-term connection. Analysis, step-by-step, the odours of history strong, holding my attention on the grasp-holds of development worth having been done. It moves me to collate in my mind, I can turn and hit return again and again, but should I withdraw, anxiety knocking at the door? Be brave, little one, be bigger, be so very sure.

    I can become anything that is within my ability to practice, and if not, at least I’ve had the chance to try it. I will put my heart out on the line, dangle myself out into the world of change, and pursue, pursue, a different, new adventurous path. Which is the way for me? I will have to reach before I will know, and if I am to succeed, there must be proof of positive growth. I have something to show, my heart calls out to be seen, my heart yearns to be known, my prior struggles, my diverted paths, I will learn, to learn, through hope.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Cocoon’ – 09/06/21

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  • Prose: Freedom – 29/05/21

    Prose: Freedom – 29/05/21

    I trust the magic will imbue, with my soul it will carry me through, into the Great Unknown, where hands and eyes await a certain prize, something to peruse, some agent to get high, to ride on euphoria – these days, it’s time, karmic balance, get paid.

    Their surrounding palms reach and reach; through a black hole, they rise forth, making some regret wanting to live, and those eyes, beady, uninterrupted, staring orbs, they could never placate disaster, never cause a broken heart to mend, to become less torn.

    They live to receive; to take from me, each piece of my puzzle which I had placed hesitantly, and then so deftly, will now be taken away from their family, their home, because of spiteful eyes and appendages of others, gone rogue and free.

    But, I am joyful, because unlike these hands, unlike these eyes, I can dance, away and aware, for I am coursing with power, I am alive. Escape is not an option, it is the only way, the only path, my decision, my freedom can never be taken or bought, only given away, or treasured and retained.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Luis Dalvan from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Jewels of Thought’ – 29/05/21

    Previous Post: ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’ – 28/05/21

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  • Poem: Brightness – 17/01/21

    Poem: Brightness – 17/01/21

    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.

    Do not cry for the moment of lost opportune,
    do not grieve, neither mourn,
    there is no end, only if wished for soon,
    there is nothing worth feeling lost about,
    because the presence, she lingers,
    lingers in a manner that takes words straight
    from awe-struck mouths and fingers.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo from Unsplash.

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  • Poem: The Girl in the Red Dress – 07/01/21

    Poem: The Girl in the Red Dress – 07/01/21

    Glaring, inquiring eyes
    inspecting through shopfront windows,
    what is it you seek?
    The girl in the crimson dress with white seams,
    is it she you are trying to find,
    do you desire her to speak?

    On edge,
    percolated by excess caffeine,
    anxiety rising,
    scenes perhaps more than what they seem,
    to her, everything seems suspicious,
    laden with layers of notions and commotions
    and terribly haunting dreams.

    Pressure is rising,
    shall there be a toast of prior predilections?
    Fight back the sleepiness of the morning,
    troupe around the neighbourhood,
    exercise and voices cheerily ringing?

    Stress, cortisol, tremors,
    won’t they be resolved?
    That feeling of edginess that screams
    so insipidity loud?

    Those pinpointed eyes as they pass within an
    expression of menace,
    the power of intimidation,
    she will acknowledge the look no more,
    to her, the forced inattention will make it less,
    she will not lock eyes with that stranger,
    there is not need for that physical test.


    (c) 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All right reserved.

    Photo from Unsplash

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  • Poem: Denounced – 01/01/21

    Poem: Denounced – 01/01/21

    Not right, not right, not right.
    Matchmaking is more than a plight,
    I shall denounce the insolence with a single breath
    into the dead of night.

    Who minds that only I am the one who breathes,
    flames flicker by my outstretched hands,
    extended sleeves,
    I shall not learn what it means to flee.

    I will stand strong and steadfast
    without losing face,
    treated unfairly,
    lost the place in my race,

    it’s not right to besmirch on a day such as this,
    wriggle those magical fingers,
    fend off those ill feels,
    I shan’t bother to ache,
    rather I’ll begin to heal.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: Delicate – 01/01/21

    Poem: Delicate – 01/01/21

    Perhaps some are meant to be
    apart for a while,
    to allow distance and the ability for
    truth to no longer be real.

    Imagination reigns without truth,
    what is that person seeing, feeling,
    what will they do,
    thoughts of them, I should really be
    immensely and measurably through.

    Delicate interventions,
    reaching out in a moment,
    wondering is no longer wondering
    because now there’s an
    ability to slightly see,

    Are there differences to be observed,
    are they selective,
    there to be heard?
    I know there are some changes,
    waiting to be discovered and learned.

    Brightened are they,
    with each moment they are heard,
    loneliness could have overwhelmed,
    must have caused great dismay,

    but I must tread delicately,
    not flit around too flashily or fancily,
    too much attention drawn could cause cracks to be seen and
    cause future suffering.

    (c) 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Image from Unsplash.

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  • Poem: Letting It Go – 29/12/20

    Poem: Letting It Go – 29/12/20

    Let us ride the waves of misery
    but away, away from the blight,
    allow us to shine with the knowledge of
    that mystery,
    as we approach each other in the dead of night.

    And let us have that embrace
    which has been awaiting us for oh so many years,
    let me feel that heartbeat of yours
    and detract from all my old fears.

    Please let me wash away the hurt
    that I feel within my soul,
    let it rain, let it rain,
    and rinse away the suffering,
    let the pain fade away,
    delicately away,
    it shall dissipate,
    let it go.

    (c) 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

  • Poem: Heat – 28/12/20

    Once in a while, you wonder just why.

    What ill had you performed to make the situation awry?

    What decision was undertaken to make someone feel slapped, or want to cry?

    Or want to cause a situation’s demise?

    Shall the rivers cease their running,

    Shall the seas calm their tides?

    And shall the oceans part wide

    Washed away of sin and less dry eyes?

    Shall we dance individually now,

    Never again to meet,

    No matter the circumstance,

    I don’t want to step back from the heat.

    (c) 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

  • Poem: Stitched – 28/12/20

    Poem: Stitched – 28/12/20

    Brightness, wholesome, warmth.
    Everything because.
    Everything near.
    Everything far.

    I mend and stitch and fail because
    that chasm need not fixing;
    it’s meant less darned,
    more gaping,
    it does not need my solving.

    This situation is no longer my responsibility,
    I listen carefully,
    hark at the words,
    knowing that allowing myself to fall
    by the wayside,
    is the decision best for me.

    It’s self-preservation,
    and protection of thoughts,
    and protection of that smarting feeling
    within my heart,

    the sadness, I will rise above
    and smile despite, because,
    I was a part of something,
    and now, no matter that I’m not,
    I’m still intact,
    and that’s a fact.

    (Early Nov. 2020)

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 

    Photo by Lisa Woakes on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Eight of Summer – 27/12/20

    Poem: Eight of Summer – 27/12/20

    The card tells me to focus on a desire for a
    more meaningful life,
    to realise it’s time to move on.
    Make those life-altering decisions and brighten my path,
    accompanied by the sweetest songs.

    Hand in hand, will I be?
    Or strident on my own,
    wearing that purely metaphorical crown?
    Dangling with jewels of prosperity and wisdom,
    I will cherish this land,
    the land I explore as a future kingdom.

    I will walk the path of righteousness,
    never allowing for feelings of umbrage or
    tales of my misfortune,
    I am learning from past mistakes,
    and those even of today,
    people aren’t necessarily who or what they promise.

    And this is fine,
    it’s purposeful to know the truth
    that sometimes hopes and honour have
    decidedly flown the coop.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo taken by me, card from “Fairy Tarot Cards”,
    by Doreen Virtue and Radleigh Valentine,
    illustrated by Howard David Johnson.

     

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