Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: poem

  • Poem: A Rapid Black Cat – 04/05/21

    Poem: A Rapid Black Cat – 04/05/21

    A black cat streaks before my path,
    I shriek,
    I’m afraid to ask!
    What is Superstitious Kitty doing
    running, flitting,
    my heartbeat skips,
    then won’t stop rapidly beating.

    I’m shocked out of my skin,
    does his or her appearance mean
    future bad luck for me?

    Should I avoid walking on cracks,
    be careful around mirrors,
    or am I simply being sad
    for caring about a jet black cat
    that happened to rush,
    to hurtle on past?

    Or, should I carry on my day
    with great confidence and aplomb,
    wondering not to myself whether
    the events of my day will come undone?

    I decide I should hold my head up high,
    cast aside superstition to the sky,
    believe in logic and truth,
    well, now I know what to do!

    ‘Twas a silly moment of fear in my mind,
    too many campfire stories
    and cabin tales to delve into from memories
    that were rather easy to find,

    and now I must move forward,
    remembering that there is no bad luck
    from a cat just because of its shade,

    I will carry on, carry on,
    be brave in your day,
    as my aunt would reassuringly say.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Raquel Pedrotti on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Luminescent – 02/05/21

    Poem: Luminescent – 02/05/21

    The Moon in all his glory, 
    pale, craggy, yet luminescent, 
    he smiles down upon our Earth
    as though in a parody,
    a soft spot held for us, and meant. 

    The Sun, she tries to jostle with him
    for pride of place in the sky, 
    I laugh, shake my head to myself, 
    I don’t bother to ask her why. 

    They can and do co-exist, 
    but one’s more prominent
    than the other, 
    I don’t have to, 
    need to mention
    who begs for more or less power. 

    Demand much from the clouds
    and they may wink 
    before the Sun or Moon, 

    obscure them from our eyes, 
    us mere humans on this Earth, 
    here to appreciate the 
    glowing orbs hanging from the sky on high.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Daniel Lincoln on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Stagnated Time – 01/05/21

    The minutes seem so long,
    the second-hand drags like
    fingernails in sand and broken glass,
    I’m impatient to know the answer,
    but I’m terrified to even ask.

    Tell me, what point is there
    in waiting,
    in watching the vapour of my breath
    cloud my vision, obscure with fog?
    The truth we will discover yet.
    I refuse to beg or sob.

    Ache not for the present, but recall tremors from the past,
    patiently, patiently, 
    in due course, 
    is it right to ask?

    I shall not flounder in my need, 
    in my desire to know, 
    better still lay the questions down to rest,
    I have no right to request, 
    nor you any obligation to let me know. 

    Would functionality take over
    if the seconds were given a chance
    to catch up with each other, 
    suddenly, a minute seems too fast. 
    The seconds trip and fall on one another, 
    clumsily, then altogether.

    (c) 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Logan Armstrong on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Moving on Out – 30/04/21

    Poem: Moving on Out – 30/04/21

    Image drawn by myself, 2019

    Things may seem unwarranted,
    like the Universe has delivered ‘unfair’,
    and mental aches pain you from knowing
    that from this place,
    you’ll soon have to vacate here.

    But know that while
    you’ve been dealt certain undesirable cards,
    feel the warmth and concern of others,
    you don’t need to trip, 
    nor fall hard. 

    How to escape a circumstance
    you particularly are loathe to leave?
    Much rather remain, would you, 
    I can see, feel this, 
    the worry on your face,
    the heartache worn on your sleeve. 

    Try not to yearn for something 
    which can no longer be,
    perhaps a new beginning
    is awaiting you, 
    maybe soon you will see. 

    All these material possessions
    which once held great import, 
    toss them aside, 
    it’s time to lighten yourself, 
    and stridently move forward. 

    And remember when you’re feeling sad,
    or particularly low, 
    I’ll always be here to listen, 
    provide kind words, support, 
    this you must already understand
    and know. 

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

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  • Poem: Beautiful Soul – 29/04/21

    Poem: Beautiful Soul – 29/04/21

    Sustaining the high energy 
    of the beautiful vitality within thy soul, 
    watch as it trickles through the gaps visible 
    in the aura that surrounds you whole. 

    You are wonderful just the way you are, 
    the courteous, gentle being who sings slightly off-key,
    it is permissible to be less than perfect, 
    because this is what I have to say freely:

    Imperfection is beauty, as a wise woman once had said, 
    your perfection lies in the moments when your heart is beating –
    that’s always… 

    You easily keep promises to yourself, 
    honouring what you call for, 
    what you beg for with a smile,
    more, and more, and more… 

    The grimaces are gone, 
    they are done for, done for, 
    that’s what I have to say, 
    and treasured is everything, partially, 
    of what I know,
    expressions of true friendship, always.

    It seems that specific people will always be there
    for me, 
    it appears that they aren’t the ones 
    who we expected them to be, 
    but I treasure the new alliances made, 
    I am safe to be safe, as are you.
     
    It is safe for us to live in these bodies, 
    it is acceptable and right to express ourselves,
    we should appreciate our splendid uniqueness, 
    and when the flight of our souls occurs, 
    we shall grasp our lives again whole.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash

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  • Poem: An Eventful Evening – 27/04/21

    Poem: An Eventful Evening – 27/04/21

    A rambling here and there, 
    a touch, a smile, humour is in the air, 
    comfortability, 
    company contained, 
    thoughts shared, 
    all aboard the rise and fall of the train. 

    I don’t feel awry, do you?
    They shake their head, 
    they know not to speak their truths, 
    for if it were known how nervous one felt, 
    the pressures of the heart would have to be spoke,
    a heart would have to admit it melts,
    the tightening of a wanted noose, 
    a newly looser belt. 

    Why on earth would the fissures let loose, 
    steam gusting forth, 
    and geysers pressurising the room, 

    words spoken, or hushed in the dark, 
    addle the mind, 
    or allow another to crawl away, 
    escape, 
    into their comfort zone, 
    where are you — 
    oh, hark?
    I think this takes the cake, 
    I think it hits the mark,
    walk away, away, from the affray?

    Take the sugar, 
    exercise the sweetness,
    be brave, 
    don’t knock objects aside accidentally, 
    the clumsiness can leave a smudge
    that no one will want to save, 

    and celebrate the moments
    when time seems to have healed 
    the brokenness inside of them,
    and eyes, 
    and sight, 
    certain glittering beauty will steal.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Ben Koorengevel on Unsplash

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    Photo by guy stevens on Unsplash
  • Poem: Spiritual Names – 25/04/21

    Poem: Spiritual Names – 25/04/21

    A name rolled off the tongue, 
    started with a stammer, ended with an “A”, 
    I was not upset, I would not be swayed, 
    I was not irritated, I would not be saddened, 
    I would not allow myself to feel hurt or even 
    burdened or betrayed. 

    A slip of the tongue, 
    shall we look this up? 
    Perhaps a spiritual name, 
    underlying of sorts. 

    And then we found it, 
    beautiful description, 
    suited to a T, 
    was this the Universe’s way of highlighting 
    its secret name for me?

    As I read on, 
    I smiled, 
    it described me in ways that fit, 
    although there was some advice I didn’t agree with, 
    I wouldn’t allow my heart to dip –

    I remember at a time wondering what or even if 
    I had a soul name for me, 
    or whether it was what I was named by my loved ones, 
    Miss Lauren M, the assigned name for me. 

    Have I now discovered my spiritual name? 
    Perhaps, perhaps I have not, 
    but the process was lovely all the same, 
    and I liked reading those kindly written words, 
    and for the one who rolled off the name from his tongue, 
    his real name is meant to remain, 
    maybe the same is to be spoken for my chosen, given name.

    Maybe there’s no need to search for something else 
    when there’s no need to replace.

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

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  • Poem: At Peace – 25/04/21

    Poem: At Peace – 25/04/21

    I sit, 
    and I am at peace with myself. 

    My wants, my necessities, checked in at the door. 
    I am stronger internally, than ever before. 

    All I took was to shed some skin, and take in the light, 
    the light from an orb. 

    I harness that energy, 
    to be exuberant, 
    there’s nothing to waste, 

    butterflies, butterflies, 
    my kind and theirs, 
    their presence is an absolute, 
    perfect, intense. 

    Open doors and dangerous paths, 
    beckon to me, 
    sing to me, 

    come thick, 
    come sure, 
    come fast,

    but I know better than to play 
    in the land of Inbetween, 
    where imagination doth soar, 
    and reality is but a dream.

    Should I really reside in the real world? 
    I then ask myself. 
    My time upon this earth is gathering dust, dust motes, 
    but if this were worth a try, would I become lesser,
    insignificant? 

    This and that is sheer nonsense.

    Dreams deemed as nonsense but without them, 
    how would we fly? 

    Strength in numbers, 
    strength in the heart, 
    a chakra’s green surrounds my aura that shines forth,

    its steady pulsating I own as mine,
    those robust heartstrings are taut,
    they are as much as yours, as much as mine,

    fly butterfly, fly,
    you live, you’ll live,
    for but a short and splendid time. 

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Armand Khoury on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Freedom Heart – 22/04/21

    Poem: Freedom Heart – 22/04/21

    Strident tones announced from the bell of a trumpet, 
    I’d smile but I won’t show it, 
    I thought this was the chance to recommence, 
    but now, it’ll all be past tense. 

    To progress from the murky muck, 
    a heart flitters nervously, 
    a gut’s contents begins to rot, 

    I thought I could do this, 
    I thought I was strong, 
    but it seems the better route is to go 
    where I am accepted and comfortable all along. 

    I am enough, 
    I am too much for some, 
    I am required to be elsewhere, thanks, 
    the calling here is not enough:
    a feeling of complete numb. 

    For the sake of myself,
    I need to take into account how I will fare 
    in the long run, 
    not only the short term, 
    I need to consider what will work best for me, 
    health-wise and happiness,
    the upsets I wish to curb. 

    And last night, I decided, 
    I decided, and a sense of relief washed over me, 
    the growing stress seemed all but gone,
    my mind, my mind is free.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Losing Control – 18/04/21

    Poem: Losing Control – 18/04/21

    Losing control,
    walking on a tightrope,
    hurled on a high swing,
    abandoning all that I do not want,
    can signal the end of everything.

    Sweetness in all its magic,
    is temptation as it comes,
    the palatable,
    the rush,
    the seeming goodness,
    the body screams for it,
    by eleven, the damage is done.

    Little pieces initially,
    then vacuuming that room,
    inhaling without true consciousness,
    not even savouring the feeling,
    this feeling I wish to be rid of soon.

    For if it’s acknowledged,
    won’t that mean it’s fine for pleasure to return?
    I’ve spent months on end denying the joy
    of consumption,
    and now, here, look at me now…

    Unravelling the habit?
    Denying myself,
    creating a disservice?
    I’m not sure if I should surrender,
    but what I know is

    I should be grateful,
    I should be thankful,
    trust me, in ways I am,
    but the mindset I want, need, have to retain,
    it cannot be thrust aside,
    if so, well, I’ll be damned.

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

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