Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: poem

  • Poem: Morning Chatter – 29/01/21

    Poem: Morning Chatter – 29/01/21

    I’m all out of cares and concerns, 
    leave behind the airs and trials, 
    there is no haughtiness or sinister circumstances,
    view the alterations for miles.

    Those dreams which haunted the mind
    but only last night, 
    are they pointing to, 
    are they signalling signs? 
    Obscure and strange, 
    but there, in existence, to be analysed within the times?

    Truthfully, I cannot say, 
    the images were the makings of another, 
    only relayed to me the very next day, 
    broken sleep having saved, 
    in the morning, an important character, 
    the priors potent and frightening, 
    rattling, 
    yet intriguing,
    first morning light chatter.    

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

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: A Timely Smile – 28/01/21

    Poem: A Timely Smile – 28/01/21

    This smile, she is timely,
    she has arrived well and alive,
    with her presence her owner will revive,
    feel stronger,
    amazing,
    and whole.

    There were calls for her demise,
    suffocations of her interior,
    breath caught in her lungs,
    catching at the escape,
    wishing for the air never to be free nor fly,
    but now, a rapid sigh of relief,
    a time of kingly brightness and benevolence
    as a hand reaches out to warm and caress.

    The air no longer is dry, dead,
    nor stale,
    but the validity of her smile is it’s alive
    for all to see:
    we can see those teeth flash bright for miles and miles.

    And the succinct fact is the woman’s happy,
    she doesn’t need to be given this or that to be lively,
    she is creating her life as priority,
    her satisfaction as part of her personality,
    she’s no longer reaching out to all as an anomaly,
    wishing to appeal or appease,
    no, those moments begged for her to leave.

    She wasn’t required,
    she wasn’t necessary,
    but she is enough, enough,
    she calls freely,
    a triumphant self-awareness of her worth and truth,
    there’s no cause for her persistence to be belittled,
    for between those days and now there is
    much mental and physical distance to view.

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

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: Breaking News – 27/01/21

    Poem: Breaking News – 27/01/21

    The journey is almost over, 
    the pain, the suffering, the ailing, 
    all to be washed away from the nights and the mornings, 

    the bravery is there to be seen, 
    highs and lows, during so much time, 
    she’s been stoic throughout it all, 
    the therapy has not seized her courage, 
    or taken away her positivity,

    she’s been fighting and carrying on
    throughout what has sometimes been a struggle,
    demonstrating her resilience and capabilities. 

    Today’s the second last session, 
    she has strength within, 
    she has power throughout, 

    the flushing of medications promises
    one more attendance
    to be borne with a grin, 

    I am proud of her quiet resolve, 
    and with this illness 
    she has demonstrated the ability to combat the ill emotions, 
    upsets and suffering, 
    her coping strategies long ago set into motion,
    brightness in moving forward and re-focussing.

    She will walk away from this time with her head held high
    knowing she’s combatted this illness as though
    it’s barely stopped her,
    hardly stalled her in her tracks,
    hardly sent her life awry,

    she’s been able to fight through the side effects,
    has kept herself busy,
    has remained hopeful,
    even when she was feeling so poorly and weak,
    she approached it with the hope of a new tomorrow.

    And I know that when she strides away from that seat
    that final time,
    triumphant in heart, body and mind,
    she will feel oh, so fine
    that she’s combatted this
    in the best way she could have handled it,
    my gracious mother of mine.

    We await the opportunity to celebrate this milestone,
    hers and our relief together in due time.

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

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: PRN – 26/01/21

    Poem: PRN – 26/01/21

    Look what they’ve done, 
    prescribed those tiny bullets,
    dissolving, smoking gun. 

    The lacklustre effect is taking, 
    lethargy, it is growing, 
    malaise, it is not helping, 
    boy, these tablets are not assisting. 

    But perhaps they’ll calm the mind
    in due time, 
    relax, replenish, 
    make the thoughts intertwine,
    as though ivy would, 
    or thin rope, 
    wound around and around, 
    gentle, 
    methodically, 
    the medication has brought hope. 

    Feeling less anxious now, 
    the PRN has made the world have less overwhelming, 
    in tow, 
    my ship is causing no drift, 
    I’m on crystalline waters, 
    with this agent, 
    there’s no need to think,
    the ability to relax is here and now,
    a wistful song, from inside my heart grows.
     
    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Diana Polekhina on Unsplash

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: Not Quite a Love Song

    Poem: Not Quite a Love Song

    Allow the dripping of honey to coat the seconds together, 
    let the hearts join during the moments of playful banter, 
    but don’t permit the times to destroy the frivolity, 
    the joy, 
    the joviality, 
    to switch to seriousness, 
    to gruff, forlorn momentum,
    for the arrangement of seconds to become
    less than tidy. 

    There is not rhythm nor rhyme to analyse
    this time, 
    the now-saccharine aftertaste should wane, 
    and wane, and wane
    if it were to be misconstrued, 
    to take back the past would be in vain.

    This is not a love song, 
    this is not a calling to come along, 
    but what it is is a momentum, 
    a continuum, 
    from sadness through to healing, 
    learning to accept friendship amongst the dreaming.  

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: Celsius – 24/01/21

    Poem: Celsius – 24/01/21

    The heat takes to me as a tingle on my skin, 
    raised endorphins still allow the stinging in, 
    I feel faint, 
    this warmth I hate, 
    others are grateful, 
    the cool change I await. 

    Sweat begins to pool at the small of my back, 
    the nape of my neck, 
    I struggle, 
    looking for relief, 
    won’t the singeing rays abate?
    Temperamental, hissing under my breath, 
    I await, I await, the cool change yet. 

    Some glorify this heat, 
    dancing in its smiles and welcoming arms, 
    but I am grumpy, dehydrated, 
    sulking, 
    this heatwave, 
    it is unwanted,
    won’t its ferocity become placid?

    Perhaps I should be gracious and accept each passing moment,
    to practice gratitude and be thankful because
    life’s for living, 
    and complaining simply isn’t worth it.

    Despite my discomfort, 
    despite my dismay, 
    I throw my arms to the heavens and thank God for this day. 

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

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: Beliefs – 24/01/21

    Poem: Beliefs – 24/01/21

    Believe me when I say
    finally the path is being laid. 
    No more erring, not more wandering
    down the garden path, 
    curiosity calling, 
    my eyes bright and prowling, 
    hoping to happen upon a sumptuous sight of 
    reverence and beauty, 
    truth and humility, 
    friendship and loyalty, 
    trust, and above all, 
    a close-knit family.

    The weave in my Life’s wefts has become tighter, 
    I’ve learned to control myself far better, 
    the outrage, the moods, the temper, 
    that which had always dragged me under. 

    Yet now, the past seems preposterous, 
    my behaviour childish and helpless, 
    tantrums, snapping, I’m now all about self-improvement, 
    and I govern as such toward those who also want a hand with it.

    Though, I can lead them to the water, 
    I cannot make them drink, 
    I can assist at guiding their thoughts but I cannot
    take away their independence and ability to think.

    Proactiveness is the way, to master oneself, 
    productivity opens one’s eyes and adds to self-worth, 
    my precious ones, rise on high. 
    Now soar, soar, with your supportive wings
    guiding you, 
    what to do, what to do?
    Improvements to be followed through. 

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

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: Raging Cafe – 23/01/21

    Poem: Raging Cafe – 23/01/21

    I arrived at the café in a raging mood, 
    everything felt wrong, angered me, made me feel misunderstood.
    Fluctuations in mood today carried on from yesterday,
    I was filled with upsets, overwhelmed with dismay. 

    I sniped, I snarked, I complained, I felt bitter, 
    could nothing go right, this is terrible, will it improve? I wondered.
    I’ve not had days like these in months, 
    everything has been somewhat right, 
    an improvement upon the next, 
    regeneration throughout the night. 

    Yet today I am in a rage, 
    better watch whom I address upon my page, 
    is there publish-worthy material I’d like to save?
    Quite possibly not, 
    I’d rather go into a mental haze 
    where I can zone out and forget every spiky emotion 
    that I can feel, 
    some will say stop complaining, and just deal.  

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

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • Poem: A Discomforting Perusal – 22/01/21

    Poem: A Discomforting Perusal – 22/01/21

    They can make me out to feel unworthy,
    some hold judgments, quiet grievances,
    I can read it within their body language,
    their subtle nuances.

    They know me not from a piece of fruit,
    a bar of soap,
    a bough among many,
    thus why throw upon me offence when I am here
    to spend my precious pennies?

    Personal thoughts easily read,
    tones to be heard and analysed quickly,
    treat us all equally.

    I am not here to waste
    their time nor mine,
    my presence is valid,
    treat me respectfully,
    a smile can come so easily,
    construct it,
    share it freely.

    Perhaps due to untoward vibrations I’ll walk away,
    sale-less, the counter is devoid of chatter, notes and change,
    maybe I would have purchased
    but with the feelings lingering
    I’ll withdraw,
    nothing in hand,
    only ill feelings felt and carried away,
    perhaps throughout the morning they’ll be grasped.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

  • 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

    Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home