Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: poem

  • Prose: Shall I Stifle my Songs? – 01/06/21

    Prose: Shall I Stifle my Songs? – 01/06/21

    It would be wise, it would be prudent, to give up the nuisances, to cast away the cruel injustice, and travel elsewhere, where they know us. For now, my words bear less ‘zing’, overworked, overwrought, haphazard it is to over-sing, it seems. I can speak of experiences; growth, positivity, liveliness, but without a visible, solid base, how will my truths be known? How can they direct, morals and lessons intersect, when no one is here to witness what’s been asserted, what has been said?

    Trust me; I walked on the other side of life, what you see now, pretty petunias and roses, barren land before, they would never grow. Despair, anger, frustration, hatred, they were the currencies of life in which I coped, how I stagnated, the manners of living I breathed and for a long time, I remained without hope.

    No point detailing any further, little point into going into specifics, this is enough to know that I’ve made some great changes. These things never happen overnight – indeed, it’s like watching a hatchling every day, if there’s a break between each stage, it’s obvious to one’s eyes the vast developmental change.

    I sing a certain song now, I warble newer tunes, I’m much happier, I feel this in my being, to the full. Of course, occasionally, I yearn for some things, but Life’s not perfect, and distractions keep the mind busy. The scent of those luscious flowers, why, one might say, my life is pushing roses, so much more joy must be on its way.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Polina Kovaleva from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Journey to the Light; ‘ – 01/06/21
    Previous Post: ‘Seems as Though’ – 01/06/21
    Previous Post: ‘Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum’ – 30/05/21

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  • Poem: Seems As Though – 31/05/21

    Poem: Seems As Though – 31/05/21

    It seems as though my presence
    isn’t viewed as a present,
    but rather an unwanted hindrance –
    I’ll vacate the present premises.

    No longer take up space
    within the mind,
    I will walk away with zeal off to a space
    where my company’s wanted,
    with enjoyment and laughter
    again easy to find.

    It’s not difficult to feel
    the arisen tension melting away,
    when I can distance myself from
    the words and blame
    from another,
    it is their argument’s sake.

    Funny how repeat-offending
    goes by the book,
    when moral constructs broke,
    and rule-breaking occurred
    without a second look,

    Parade all the upsets which
    speak unto thy soul,
    but I won’t catch hold,
    carry the wind of it,
    now leaves —

    watch the wind wash,
    autumn hues
    drift and fall.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Leandro De Carvalho from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum’ – 30/05/21

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  • Prose: Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum – 30/05/21

    Prose: Losing Grip, Gaining Momentum – 30/05/21

    Stability, balance, breath; it’s all I need, in, out, announcing my presence, my cares rise like air, into the atmosphere they appear to swirl, yet in my mind, I am stagnant, there must be a woman within, not this impressionable young, little girl inside. That youngster awaits, with insolence, she does not want to see, that the path undertaken by some ill-fated decisions, their negativities and future judgements allowed are glaring to others, plain to see. Why cannot I understand that I’m losing grip on the reality of accountability, need I digress? Think of poor decisions like little stars, from here they feature and twinkle, but in reality, they explode, combust, from afar, a death already done, a death already begun. Fate has decided that this girl must learn or her progress, hard work, personal growth and path, will cease to be, unravel it may, completely come undone.

    But there is a positive way of knowing that steps can be made, forward, one foot in front of the other, balance, balance… break… It’s not a lapse in judgement, it’s just a broken moment; thought patterns causing pauses while I analyse future processes. For decisions cannot always come to us easily, and right and wrong may not simply extract themselves from emotion and feelings. I am yet to be angered to the point of no return, because my frustrations at poor treatment have been calmed, my quarrel with disrespect relaxed, coping mechanisms developed. To poor behaviour, it seems this girl is not so malleable, after all. I cannot control how others treat me, but I can accept and decide when from their presence I will turn and leave.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Susanne Jutzeler from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Freedom’ – 29/05/21

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  • Prose: Jewels of Thought – 29/05/21

    Prose: Jewels of Thought – 29/05/21

    The jewels of thought glimmer as the trove presents its offering. Sparkling, lustrous, scintillating, these contemplations are part of more than bearings of either king or queen. These are not controlled by royalty: they are presently waiting, awaiting new processes, though their method of glimmering is surprisingly passive; they lay there, waiting to be selected by us.

    The jewels, jewels of thought have one true source – a master thinker, a genius, a contemplative-conjurer, who has fashioned these offerings for everybody from spicks and specks of this and that, everything, and blocks of thoughts are honoured before selection shall be made tentatively, then bravely, then freely.

    Can we not form our own thoughts? Let intuition speak to you and myself, that gut feeling, third-eye instinct? Though, sometimes it’s comfortable to have a guider, a leader, to see.

    The wonder we feel in the moment when we receive this gift, a single, procured gift-wrapped thought, suddenly deemed so precious you don’t even want to undo the ribbon’s bow now.

    So, you sit with it, hold onto it, cherish this gilded box with a single cherished thought. You know not what it is, whether ignition, calm or cataclysmic indeed, you accept your inner self is enough – the gifted thought is unnecessary, only novelty, its newness will not outlast.

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

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

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  • Prose: A Foretelling Sense of Importance – 27/05/21

    Prose: A Foretelling Sense of Importance – 27/05/21

    I prioritise the things that are important, so too, the people in my life. I acknowledge every moment, but I magnify the truth behind what’s necessary or needed. What is unnecessary will fall by the wayside; I must work to the best of my ability to sort the endangered from the general herd. And to understand that people bless me with their presence, with a smile, a tilted upward nod, a wink and a half, knowing that they’re instilling their emotions and feeling, well, this is a sign of their efforts to form a second’s connection – their own sense of priority, a type of gentle dedication.

    I feel a sense of progress travel with me while everything paves the way for me. I watch as the invitingly tactile moss rises from the cracks in between the pavers, slowly, slowly, I know that it will become plentiful, these rows, with time. And softened like green clouds, upon them I could rest my head, sleeping in a state of fitful rest, that, with a heart so heavy, could carry nothing else but what is already inside of me.

    One who can foretell the future through their writing – is it what you would call an intuit, or something else? For when I prioritise with words, my messy cursive, my gentle, haphazard scrawl, I detail that which becomes strangely relevant into the future days: ideas, feelings, formulae. It’s oddly relevant, this is what I have to say. Perhaps my subconscious forewarns and foretells, and it is up to me to discern which way my truths should be taken – warnings or fate, these would, by then, have already been spelled, typed, and saved, hypotheticals and predictions become reality to be seen, shall I become yet amazed? No, but I will take heed of what has been written upon my page.

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

    Previous Post: ‘A Decree to be Felt, Heard, and Seen’ – 26/05/21

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  • Poem: Bouncing Back to Clarity – 25/05/21

    Poem: Bouncing Back to Clarity – 25/05/21

    Bouncing back to clarity,
    what’s right and honest for me,
    unselfishly considering myself,
    what works for my life,
    not putting myself behind others,
    not lingering in potential
    or future strife.

    To feel connectedness to others,
    the warmth of electric energy,
    be careful of some connections,
    electrifying can become
    dangerous indeed.

    Set some boundaries,
    don’t allow any to
    overstep the line,
    it’s what I am
    comfortable with,
    can’t allow anxiety to
    grow with time.

    Don’t allow others to meld,
    view situations for
    what they are,
    transparency is important
    to maintain,
    even from afar.

    And knowing, being aware
    of the next step there is
    to take,
    perhaps there will
    be loss,
    maybe it’s required
    for Heaven’s sake,

    perhaps the road here
    has come to an end,
    now for a detour,
    only so many times words can be
    retracted or unmeant.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Dawning Realisation’ – 24/05/21

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  • Prose: Bells Will Chime – 23/05/21

    Prose: Bells Will Chime – 23/05/21

    All the bells in the world could not aptly signal your arrival. Announcing your presence, your appearance should be heralded with angels, voices forever forthcoming, and the beauty in your eyes, blue buttons, will always precede that glimmering, shining smile which sends dances of delight in my heart to occur, and sparkle within my own eyes.

    Flights of light fancy chime through my soul as I ask myself – is this the beginning of a future forever told? An amazing sunset in the distance reminds me that ebbs and flows are set and when this occurs, our spirits will dance so lively, effervescent and ultimately together and ours.

    Your smile delights and encompasses my heart, sends pleasant chills, a sign you may be a true counterpart, there’s nothing alien about this – this firm sense of bliss, come hither, come closer, upon my cheek, lay a gentle kiss.

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

    Previous Post: ‘The Fool’ – 22/05/21

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  • Poem: The Fool – 22/05/21

    Poem: The Fool – 22/05/21

    Why is it true that
    I should pity the fool?
    Why can’t I watch Jester
    begrudgingly dance?

    His intention to amuse
    is something pure,
    or at least it is
    from a certain stance.

    He lives his life
    as a purposeful joke,
    take him seriously?

    No, that’s something
    we best comprehend,
    something we need to know.

    No matter his desire,
    his role and sense of
    greatness will not grow,
    he’s part of a social structure,
    a circumstance,

    and because society views him
    as a source of humour only,
    how can he ever be
    taken seriously?

    He knows, he knows
    his role, his place
    is to present to the king,
    a man so amazing,
    to hold the presence of
    such a man,
    why some would be envious,
    but others, not give
    a damn,
    authority to them
    does not impress,
    to royalty they’re impervious.

    But to hold court
    with the Crown,
    not as an equal,
    but as a joke,
    as amusement,
    meant that ego had to be
    overthrown,

    to be known as a fool
    when there’s so much
    within the mind,
    behind that frozen expression
    upon his face,
    his presence, his being,
    truly, foolishly,
    gone to complete waste.  

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by John Nail from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Alignment’ – 21/05/21

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  • Poem: Alignment – 21/05/21

    Poem: Alignment – 21/05/21

    In alignment with understanding,
    alignment with fresh truths,
    no stale visions or ideas,
    no biting coldness,
    there is only Winter’s
    artificial warmth,
    flowing and growing,
    hearts drift and imbue.

    The source of ideas
    shows presence,
    an historical strength
    of mind and character,
    bitter interior rooms
    need no envisioning,
    intention, brightness,
    shining through the
    murk so soon.

    Focusing on firm understandings
    and even when on shaky ground,
    to be open and available at
    every moment
    surely cannot permit eternal growth.

    Learning from a situation,
    protective harmony,
    dissertation,
    expanding awareness while
    being conscious of reality,
    it’s truly important
    for intentions to be
    set and to be seen.

    Being aware of what
    can be dedicated to,
    who, what, where, why,
    being aware of how
    moods work in dark
    then effervescent ways,
    supporting,
    being supported,
    then needing to breathe
    fresh air,
    a new space,
    extracted,
    self-instated to another place.

    There is freedom residing in
    the atmosphere,
    rising higher and higher
    like wise, airy intentions,
    fly away,
    becoming more,
    there is less drag upon the wind,
    Life has proven there’s so much
    to align with,
    so much there is in store.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Artem Beliaikin from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Spells and Magic’ – 20/05/21

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  • Prose: Cherished – 19/05/21

    Prose: Cherished – 19/05/21

    A special meaning is encompassed by me today. I could sit and weep, allow my day to decay. I could jump up and dance, a public cover-up, a farce, but I’ll do neither of these upon this sun-shining morning in May.

    Instead, I will thread myself together, sewn and stitched, with determination, insistence, for me, repair isn’t a bother. Over time, each thread has painfully entered through, needle to skin, insertion of freshly-wound cotton, much to some’s chagrin. I am whole now, no dangling pieces, after years of floundering, I’m becoming daisies and roses, blooming to see, scented, delicate petals to touch. A figure made human, adorned with hearts and trust.

    This figure’s flowerbed is smaller now, visitors and residents are fewer, but still, in delicate rows, and they’re all admired and admirable, intricate and wonderful, each petal to unfurl, their own histories to tell.

    Within this garden, in this land on the property of a safe house, we are all gathered here today, some mended from brokenness, others in the midst of sad decay. These latter we cannot help but keep company as they slowly bend their heads and weep, today is their time for demise, but in this company, kind and true, they wouldn’t have their exit any other way.

    And from the dying petals, which should be preserved while scattered, by sheets of ornate glass, their colours will join with the earth, create food, life for others. Goodbye is not always despairing when they’ve been cherished in many ways. Goodbye can be a new way of voicing a fresh beginning, from the decay arises freshness, an opportunity for new life to shine and remain.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Nubia Navarro (nubikini) from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘I Will Not Write About Love’ – 18/05/21

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