Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose
winding worlds, sharpened words, and vibrant art
Teardrops fall upon me as bloated shiny beads of purple wholesome grapes, speaking as to whether they should aim themselves for Earth or be aiming within somebody’s hungering mouth. What fate would be most adequate were they to satisfy and feed the famished others, or perhaps their desires for freedom are better suited to [...]
I feel it’s been a while since I’ve written a quality poem, Something to make me smile and feel pleased, Proud of myself for something sharp and sweet, Or lengthy but with purpose and a sense of growth and speed. There was a time when I researched and read, Many books of poetry I [...]
Oh, a time for celebration! Your birthday while in isolation. There can only be us three, but that’s enough for you to see, that you are appreciated still, and you are deserving of the love you need. You are often quiet, you do not seek attention much, indeed, you are a hard worker of the [...]
My first poem titled 'The Former Famines' has been published on Ephemeral Elegies, which details some difficult periods I experienced throughout my early adulthood and beyond. Here is an excerpt: There were times when I ate nothing but plumes of poisoned smog for days on end. I’d avoid anything heavy or even meagrely there, to [...]
Panic mode, the shelves stripped bare, triumphant shoppers walk with their prized packets of eighteen toilet paper rolls, the luxurious purple Quilton brand. We have already rushed from your home, with few moments to spare, the opening time has already occurred, there are barely any essential products there. Hastily, you grab the items [...]
Awaiting that irrevocable touch Upon my hair-raised skin, I know it will be magnificent, the time for reflection, To make myself chaste, from within. Butter me up, darling, I know the emotions too well, Of diving, sinking, And finding no treasure, The tides know my desires all too well. But I will leap [...]
Will I hold charge? I wonder. Will electricity pass through me and back out to them? I contemplate how my mind will handle the surging volts, Will it crumble or will it take the brunt? Perhaps they do not know precisely what they are doing, How to discover whether the procedure is a success? [...]
