Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: memory

  • poem: pink dress – 06/04/22

    poem: pink dress – 06/04/22

    Conspiring melodies,
    tongue-in-cheek parodies,
    beginning to recall memories,
    shove them down,
    place myself at ease.

    Jilted rhythms,
    a sonata heaves and breathes,
    escaping the melancholy,
    Dear, there seems no end to these.

    I waltz through artwork,
    it is my time,
    my time to spit forth images,
    not rhymes,
    that was a dragging tune that brought itself
    to harken my ears,
    enough to resolutely accept,
    enough of the feigned prowess, remember,
    always remembering,
    who you were before that pink dress.

    (c) 2022 Lauren M. Hancock  Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
    Image from Pixabay.

  • Poem: A Distant Memory – 18/01/21

    Poem: A Distant Memory – 18/01/21

    Dream out loud,
    whispers soft and true,
    eyes paled in comparison,
    a certain IOU.

    Yowling at the outside,
    come within open arms,
    burrowing into the times,
    these times,
    some don’t need to employ any charms.

    You can exist and impart wisdom
    in the surest ways you know how,
    a sparkle, a glimmer,
    wipe away the traces of sinners,
    watch their opportune moments grow.

    It should not be so difficult
    to lay away those relics from the past,
    brighten your mind,
    illuminate,
    I don’t have much more I’d like to ask.

    The heat and the flames
    can engulf you as one and the same,
    if you allow them to breathe into your soul,
    I would sincerely ask the opposite of the process,
    impart it to your name.

    The cessation, the end,
    the oblivion,
    once abomination,
    cataclysmic in its explosion,
    douse the present in calming potion.

    And then you’ll love,
    you’ll live,
    with sweet winding repose,
    capture the freshest linen-sweet scents,
    let them dance within your nose.

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

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  • Poem: Amnesia – 18/08/20

    Poem: Amnesia – 18/08/20

    If you could forget specific parts of your life,
would you willingly wipe that part of your mind?
 
Would you trade unwanted thoughts, experiences and dreams 
for empty compartments,
nothing to sift through,
nothing to see?
 
But is this not at the detriment of your history,
your comparison of experiences,
the gratitude of understanding
that sometimes, some things,
negative thoughts, sensations, memories
so terrible 
may be required as a means 
of showing brightness next to suffering,
the comparison is by its nature incredible.
 
Though, to purposefully cause oneself amnesia,
would there be side effects of this?
What would happen when we forget pain and suffering?
is it all it’s made out to be?
Did you know that from darkness and despair can sprout positivity?
 
The feeling that we’ve made it through,
either together or alone,
knowing we’ve braved the storm,
perhaps that’s enough to leave purposeful amnesia well alone.
 
Regardless of retained memories,
we will make it through.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Hans Braxmeier from Pixabay

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  • Poem: A Faulty Memory – 19/07/20

    Poem: A Faulty Memory – 19/07/20

    How to explain away an error when my intention was not cruel?
How to apologise when my memory’s retention simply wasn’t running so smooth?
How to insist I didn’t mean any offence when the point made was that I just didn’t understand?
Honest and truthful, and by my own, not another’s devices,
I feel one true lacking of mine has been brought to hand.

I want to explain away the memory slip,
that simply because I didn’t understand,
that because I did not recall,
doesn’t mean that I don't appreciate 
his work and this witty man,

that with my mind constantly being plagued by
doubts and critical thoughts of myself,
and wondering whether I am right 
within this written world,
that sometimes my own insecurities can 
override my capacity to remember
every word written by someone other than me.
 
I can’t always remember what I had on my toast in the morning,
I can’t quite remember whether I left the light on in
my second room in the evening,
I can’t seem to recall exactly how a
certain name is pronounced,
often let alone what it was,
I need to clarify some facts,
their ordering, with another,
because sometimes others recall specific facts better.
 
I may be on the ball with most things,
I may recall turns of phrases,
or another’s habits or their privately revealed feelings,
I may remember which spices to put into your tea,
but please understand,
sometimes there are too many facts to remember for me.
 
I didn’t mean any offence, 
and I hope none has been taken,
that truthfully your words were fact,
a wry throw-away expression,

I thank you for a lack of admonishment, any upset, or lamentation,
because I think, to you,
I am known for being kind and wanting the best for you,
and I’d not purposefully forget something if I knew
it would make pain dire,

all in all, I want it to be known 
that a memory slip was just that,
it was not purposeful, it was not called for,
I just forgot.
Please understand that.  

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Kyaw Tun on Unsplash

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  • Post: There is Hope – 14/04/20

    Post: There is Hope – 14/04/20

    There is hope if you look hard enough,
Among the shadows that lurk and loom,
No matter how difficult
To discern,
When our prying eyes have had enough,
We spot that glimmer,
That shimmer –

A glistening snail’s trail
Leading to that foreign place
That certainly is not home
But it calms you in a manner
Strangely stupendous
For something that is so
Different and odd to what would
Normally calm a throng.
 
And you sit there, quietly absorbing
That naked light,
A trailing of hope leading to
An outcrop, surrounding land full of shadows
Which has the power to relax you
With its scattered stars above,
An enormity, yet a closeness,
A childhood reminder of a time
That triggers something from afar.
 
And within you now a locket meets a key
And amazed you are
As your version of Pandora’s box flings open
But with a twist,
With internal, humble, resonant reassurances
You know there will be no casualties.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Linda Biggs from Pixabay   

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