Tag: poem

  • 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: Cocoon – 09/06/21

    Prose: Cocoon – 09/06/21

    I reside in this moment with you, beneath a lurid supermoon, its aura as precious as that fateful ‘oops’ moment when paths would intersect in artificial yet hounding gloom. I did not know it was necessarily the beginning of something fresh, yet also something promising pain, future blues, but shining through these circumstances are tid-bits of wonder, sparkles, delight would and does fly, I have to say, perfected upon many days and hours.

    Do I reminisce only on the appropriate moments, forgetting, forgiving, where I should not? The mental cavities, the pine-wood rot carrying, housing all these ill feelings I’d rather not transport? Perhaps I do, maybe block out the noise, sometimes certain people always have a pathway back into your life. And this is what I must say, where pieces of flung, shattered heart will not remain, after breaking I will have assistance from others, I need not perform surgery in vain.

    What seems warranted does not appear so to others, but internally, there is that pull, an indescribable power, that this person must remain, must return, like their presence was never cast aside, and so I ignore their former mental trains, their ability to cause hurt to my heart, aching and anger all the same. I excuse the errors, I forgive, forgive, somewhat naively, but that’s the price I decide to pay if I want fulfilled my detailed, scrawled yearnings. The other’s self-conditioning is shining, winking, striding, not simply pacing, or aimlessly meandering. Fierce determination, flexing strength which is no longer alien, I watch by softly, shallowly breathing, within our cocoon, residing.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image from Pixabay on Pexels.

    Previous Post: ‘Clear to See’ – 08/06/21

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  • Poem: Clear to See – 08/06/21

    Poem: Clear to See – 08/06/21

    Intense, tremendous purpose in life,
    wanting to aim for more?
    to alleviate strife,

    being aware of every good deed
    ever performed,
    heart pulsates,
    arms wide open,
    what has truly begun?
    Hands embrace memories
    like wanting time.

    Uplifting moments make me
    feel I’m floating on thin air,
    then billowing, cushiony,
    supporting me,
    allow these thoughtful clouds,
    will I even dare?

    And hence, I am grateful,
    so in wonder at the clarity provided
    to me,
    undermining myself again?
    I will not,
    I am essentially free.

    Or is this the beginning of a downfall,
    precarious yet clear to see?
    I must tread carefully,
    for where will illegitimate decisions lead me?

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Maria Orlova from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Blame — A Reason for Why You’re Not Wrong’ – 07/06/21

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  • Prose: Enriched Time – 07/06/21

    Prose: Enriched Time – 07/06/21

    Time stands still when you’re not around, my focus drags itself to the crowd, where watching, waiting, anticipating, my eyes will fall upon you sometime soon, somehow, your heated breath for me is calling.

    I feel an absence growing within my soul; a piece breaking unity, how can I be more forthcoming? I do not dream of you because in my world you’re yet to exist, a faceless being yet priceless, knowing, hope of circumstances growing.

    The fullness of who we are separately, individually, and who we are accumulatively, benefiting our spirits, like blinking fairy lights they brighten everybody’s way. Just to the side though, that light-bespeckled path, time stands still as the crowd now parts, my breath catches like a hook in a gutted fish.

    You’re not who I thought you’d be, somehow a complete stranger, lacking in familiarity. But take my arm, our Almost-Forever now, together we have advanced, become good. I know life could be further enriched with you, somehow I know this to be truth.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.

    Previous Post: ‘Soar’ – 06/06/21

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  • Prose: Soar – 06/06/21

    Prose: Soar – 06/06/21

    The thematic development of my life may not have been the same as yours: dips, turns, rollercoaster-like moments, each as valid as the occasions when trumpets signalled your arrival, or when misery was wept, the melancholy your life silently marred. There must have been times when your breath was swept away, heart palpitating, locked eyes, fumbling, love-sick tongues dumbfounded, unknowing of what to say. Or the cold winter during June, when feet and legs would entwine beneath heavy rough woollen blankets, only clutched hands and fogged breaths keeping time?

    Haven’t we all experienced heartache, cracked into pieces, never to again feel whole? In these durations it seems all is lost; wailing, flailing, tears shed, losing all sense of control. Or have you felt the pity of another, your downcast eyes shamed into courage-stripped submission, the feeling that you’re, maybe, in that second, worthless, nothing, but later realising it was just a break, a lapse of judgement, a brief, vague intermission?

    Here, can you recall the joy rising within when feeling content, surrounded by caring friends and family? Or the warm rush, engulfing headiness at knowing that you’ve achieved some sort of task, through hard work and meticulous care, and you can now rejoice wildly and freely?

    Remember now, the feeling of being strong, like you are ready to take on the world, leave naysayers behind, to leap forward with your stride? Perhaps our experiences aren’t so different – now carefully contemplate, at which moment did you soar, at which moment did your spirit rise?

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by jasmin chew from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Quiet Questioning’ – 05/06/21

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  • Poem: Quiet Questioning – 05/06/21

    Poem: Quiet Questioning – 05/06/21

    I could ask myself,
    “Why?”
    That wandering,
    unanswered question,
    a syllable that lingers long
    into the distance,
    so uncertain,
    unsure,
    unfulfilled.

    I could utter this word,
    this sound into the future,
    allowing it to precede
    my sure footing, my beginnings.

    I could cleanse the
    ease and order,
    the pride and circumstance,
    which comes with knowing
    why it is that certainty lives in the
    way that I now prance,

    the true knowing I hold
    in the once-tentative footings
    in my Land of Inbetween
    where I fumbled
    and floundered,
    until I found my grounding
    and then my ascension
    into sureness
    and forever
    which can be quietly seen
    yet boisterously heard.

    Need not have I for
    questioning any longer,
    yearning, calling forth
    for answers from
    the gloom,

    how did my moments
    become so fulfilled
    and imbued with personal power?

    Why? With knowing myself –
    it didn’t happen in mere hours.

    Becoming wiser through
    past moments,
    through histories,
    Life reflects what I
    have learned,

    I rest my head,
    I’m done,
    I’ve cherished those
    Why, Why, Why’s,
    self-indulgent enough,
    I wave them goodbye.
    Forever?
    I am sure.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Igor Faoro from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Trusted Intentions’ – 04/06/21

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  • Prose: Trusted Intentions – 04/06/21

    Prose: Trusted Intentions – 04/06/21

    I trust my intentions; they’re soft, gentle, and pure, I only wish for goodness now, swipe away ill meanings and discord, of which nothing useful can come or be pure. Wanting the best for others, even if they have caused hurt, well, this takes character, and really – dutiful practice, so devout.

    One may speak cruelly of others in the heated moments of distress, but clear up the anger felt, said, hurled, and meant — nobody is perfect, everyone has at least one fault, it’s not their problem to always to manage those imperfections now. But there should be an acknowledgement, and at least a want for future change, sometimes that’s all that can be provided, a truthful manner of saving grace.

    Because when hurt is projected, it thereby reflects an error in judgement; it’s right, well and good to protect oneself, but know where others have been, their current plight, where they stand, where they stood. I’m not suggesting one should excuse all bad behaviour, but what I am saying is to reconsider, have sympathy, some people will, won’t, can’t, do not know how, or if they are meant to or should change, and if they are to remain, sometimes present behaviours simply have to be excused, to ‘be’, until they’re hopefully unlearned, from their future repertoire, unsaved.

    It’s up to you to decide whether you will take a gamble and either temporarily – or maybe eternally – tolerate these lacked charms, whether they cloud your judgement, your perception of the person you see, and whether they will or won’t change, develop, prosper, and learn.

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


    Previous Post: ‘The Keyhole’ – 03/06/21

    Previous Post: ‘Attraction – So Sweet’ – 04/06/21

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  • Prose: Attraction – So Sweetly – 03/06/21

    Prose: Attraction – So Sweetly – 03/06/21

    The wind is howling; dashing gentlemen have gone away. Perturbed though I am, I do not wish they could have stayed. For their presence was an encumbrance, they meddled with my mind, seems boisterous to determine, my disinterest easy enough to find. I wish I could have run screaming, through the fields, because I was not made for manufactured love, bottled, predated, stamped illegally as a pull, begrudgingly made a deal.

    There is no direction to be gleaned or sought after in a land of falsifications, damaged connections from the very beginning. And they terrified me so, I need firm structures, my mind stages, my personal growth, I did not need the round of dastardly gentlemen to approach and then court me — they’re unknowns.

    I have my own energy, I breathe off each moment of respiration, counterfeit love potions become annihilations, and winding on the pavement it is easy enough to see, who has learned I’m not to meant to wed, to love, maintain, to be, unless it is freely?

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Yaroslav Shuraev from Pexels

    Previous Post: ”The Keyhole’ – 03/06/21

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  • Poem: The Keyhole – 03/06/21

    Poem: The Keyhole – 03/06/21

    There is no thought involved
    to access personal wisdom,
    inhale, exhale,
    irreversible – the accessible?
    No.
    Align with your Incredible.

    Enter into the keyhole
    which guards secrets within,
    past those pearled gates,
    access is possible
    if you meditate and ruminate freely.

    If anything arises
    which impedes your process,
    understand that to move forward
    we should adopt the most relaxed
    manner we can,
    remembering we are blessed.

    No tiresome inabilities
    to achieve or gain,
    ignorance, excuses,
    no longer bear pain.

    Enlivening the memories
    without acting as though
    it’s a task,
    better still, receive,
    receive, understand
    the captured worthiness,
    watch it grow,
    self-growth at full mast.

    It may seem beyond our knowledge
    that this circle of wisdom
    can extend,
    allowing for flow,
    for brightness,
    amazing this power within you
    as it attends, and you comprehend.

    Because every part of me
    I have come to properly learn,
    it is my heart which connects,
    makes pathways,
    from my memory pool to see,
    then discern,

    knowing now I’m truly
    better off on my own,
    I must be firm and capable
    at standing and walking
    confidently, alone.

    Accompanied at times only by
    those who listen, share, and support,
    a circle of trust,
    a personal cohort.

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

    Previous Post: ‘At What Cost?’ – 02/06/21

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  • Poem: At What Cost? – 02/06/21

    Poem: At What Cost? – 02/06/21

    I am mesmerised,
    I am amazed by the
    opportunities available,
    a contented smile decorates my lips,
    eyes sparkling like
    popped champagne bubbles,
    they dart up and within my irises,
    each glimmer,
    every speckle breathes life
    between the silences
    which exist amidst
    peeps of delight —
    the night, the night,
    knows well of these.

    Let us come together,
    watch, wait and learn
    at the processes,
    they’re harmless, yes?
    You know nothing of the
    consequence of these,
    there’s burgeoning duress,

    but understand completely
    your wish to know
    of the debt –
    there’s no investment without intent,
    unwilling to unashamedly make amends.

    And the truth is,
    the source of this is,
    I, I have ceased to care,
    oblivious to obvious moments,
    I should have been wide-eyed, wide-open,
    but I refuse to deplore,
    a learning curve, of sorts;
    god damn, I’ve actually learned,
    not simply preconceived notions and returning,
    those mistakes, those behaviours,
    a dulled, boring blur.

    Better leave the moments as they are,
    inert, unmoving, unspoken words.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Previous Post: ‘Should I Silence my Songs?’ – 01/05/21

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