Tag: poetry

  • Poem: Stitched – 28/12/20

    Poem: Stitched – 28/12/20

    Brightness, wholesome, warmth.
    Everything because.
    Everything near.
    Everything far.

    I mend and stitch and fail because
    that chasm need not fixing;
    it’s meant less darned,
    more gaping,
    it does not need my solving.

    This situation is no longer my responsibility,
    I listen carefully,
    hark at the words,
    knowing that allowing myself to fall
    by the wayside,
    is the decision best for me.

    It’s self-preservation,
    and protection of thoughts,
    and protection of that smarting feeling
    within my heart,

    the sadness, I will rise above
    and smile despite, because,
    I was a part of something,
    and now, no matter that I’m not,
    I’m still intact,
    and that’s a fact.

    (Early Nov. 2020)

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 

    Photo by Lisa Woakes on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Eight of Summer – 27/12/20

    Poem: Eight of Summer – 27/12/20

    The card tells me to focus on a desire for a
    more meaningful life,
    to realise it’s time to move on.
    Make those life-altering decisions and brighten my path,
    accompanied by the sweetest songs.

    Hand in hand, will I be?
    Or strident on my own,
    wearing that purely metaphorical crown?
    Dangling with jewels of prosperity and wisdom,
    I will cherish this land,
    the land I explore as a future kingdom.

    I will walk the path of righteousness,
    never allowing for feelings of umbrage or
    tales of my misfortune,
    I am learning from past mistakes,
    and those even of today,
    people aren’t necessarily who or what they promise.

    And this is fine,
    it’s purposeful to know the truth
    that sometimes hopes and honour have
    decidedly flown the coop.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo taken by me, card from “Fairy Tarot Cards”,
    by Doreen Virtue and Radleigh Valentine,
    illustrated by Howard David Johnson.

     

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  • Poem: Without Pressure – 26/12/20

    Poem: Without Pressure – 26/12/20

    There is no longer any pressure,
    self-produced,
    to create nor feel,
    no rushing to the chopping block
    where I must reveal my innards,
    to show something real.

    Instead, I can gently rest,
    not be concerned with
    the haste, my imposed rush,
    because it is time to take
    some time out for myself,
    I’ve been tired
    and don’t I know it.

    Constantly dragging things,
    items up from me
    is like fishing in the darkness,
    I know what’s there,
    there are secrets lurking
    but I don’t know entirely
    where, when, or what I will find.

    The funny thing is this is
    not even required of me –
    I’m the one pushing,
    to delve, so much so, that
    the word ‘I’ is irritating even me.

    Changes could be made
    but I’m stuck,
    hindered by this not so fail-safe practice,
    it’s not tried and true,
    and it’s tiring, true?
    I need to step back and
    alter my practice.

    Of course, confessionals
    have their place,
    I acknowledge a share
    has great potency,
    but not on and on and on
    and on and on,
    even I sometimes want
    to leave.

    So, I’ll torment no further,
    or at least I will try,
    to avoid ailing with my pen,
    words stabbing in ears and eyes,
    and relax,
    step back,
    and just take a breath,

    sometimes life is actually light-hearted,
    had I not thought about sharing and presenting that?

    (Early July 2020)

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Quang Nguyen vinh from Pixabay

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  • Poem: The Silence – 26/12/20

    Poem: The Silence – 26/12/20

    The crisp morning air enlivens my mood,
    there’s little need to be sulking,
    little need to brood.

    For this wondrous day has been created
    for me,
    not temporarily, but permanently,
    from an off mood,
    I must up and flee.

    Do not allow others to determine my
    state of mind,
    do not permit them to make me feel
    lesser than other members of humankind,

    know that I am wise and smart and true,
    and I will feel elevated in this moment,
    my heart won’t be affected —
    I won’t allow it to.

    Because the truth is,
    these people come and go,
    they flit in and out of one’s life,
    like bees would visiting where nectar grows,
    and the saddening moments will rise away
    into fluff,
    that’s more than enough,
    dearest,
    your silence is more than enough.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by 青 晨 on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Truly – 25/12/20

    Poem: Truly – 25/12/20

    Truly, oh truly, did she see?
    The signs pointing, dazzling her blinded eyes to see?
    Could she not spot the clues,
    could she not hear the tales?
    Forging ahead,
    believing everything:
    my friends,
    that ship has sailed.

    Braver and wiser
    has she become,
    more cynical and realistic,
    the measure of a person must be proven first,
    no more face value,
    blind trust,
    stupid naivety, gullibility,
    another’s private glee?

    Feel the guilt wash upon them,
    her courage shall avail,
    her spirit is free.

    (early December 2020)

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Lucas Benjamin on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Lead – 25/12/20

    Poem: Lead – 25/12/20

    So, lead with me,
    leave the dust behind,
    call to me,
    seek what you need to find.

    Don’t dawdle in the moment,
    grasp onto it, true?
    Leave with strength and honour,
    follow your words through.

    May I smile at your departure,
    may I warm at your arrival,
    may I wilt at nonsense spoken,
    vehement words that can’t be unbroken.

    So, leave me in the light,
    to shine unto myself,
    this is my time,
    I don’t need to be dragged along
    with the power of morbid song from the flight.

    (early December 2020)
    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 

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  • Poem: Aligning – 21/12/20

    Poem: Aligning – 21/12/20

    Reopening the pages,
    aligning myself with the words,
    wondering if there’s time to experience
    a delicate tingle,
    an enlightening surge.

    I may have cast aside the others
    within these pages
    for far too long,
    will they accept my return,
    can we rejoice,
    can we sing a jubilant welcoming song?

    I don’t know whether or not
    the time will become important or determined,
    but I wonder to myself,
    will I send my words to them?

    Will I dare share my thoughts and opinions,
    when perhaps they shouldn’t know of these,
    the time to absorb these has long been avoided,
    allow my words to be breath like a summer’s breeze.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Laura Kapfer on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Good Enough – 17/12/20

    Poem: Good Enough – 17/12/20

    Preparation and anxiety
    will I be good enough, can they, will they see?
    Can’t they understand that this is a mere portion of me?
    Will they judge this slice of myself I’ve allowed them to hold, made myself free?

    For interest’s sake of understanding myself,
    I’ve had to type and analyse myself,
    not the present but the past,
    it is how the foundations knew
    how to be rise forth
    from my prior despair and gloom.

    It is not a refection of my current self,
    it is not a mirror image of how I’d be, left upon the shelf,
    the documentation is a detailing of facts and feelings,
    emotions and dealings,
    and my god,
    I scraped through hell for this material.

    I now lie in bed,
    grasping the sheets of paper tight to my chest
    as I stare blankly at the ceiling.
    perhaps I will be good enough, after all.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Evelyn Clement on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Solitude – 17/12/20

    Poem: Solitude – 17/12/20

    A little bit of freedom,
    a nice hot cup of tea,
    or a long black, milk served on the side,
    soon to be enjoyed by little old me.

    Wandering around and around,
    little sights to be appreciated,
    to be seen,
    things we took for granted
    once upon a time,
    now appreciative I am,
    and I’ll continue to be.

    But things are different,
    they’re somehow not the same,
    I can’t change what’s occurred,
    the situation cannot be tamed.

    So, I wander,
    and I think,
    and I tell myself,
    don’t reminisce,
    because it’ll only cause things
    internalised to leap out from within.

    There are things that shan’t be
    spoken of,
    there are things which can be thought of well,
    because,
    there were times when
    happiness was surrounding,
    like a bubble, laughter like a potion,
    not poison but intoxicating,
    it’s now in the past,
    the solution diluted into a salty ocean.

    I wander the areas where light footprints
    were tracked many times,
    from favourite stores,
    to favourite shops,
    joy and widened eyes,

    “Look at that!” I’d exclaim,
    “Look at this,” I would call,
    “and here,” I would point,
    my words no longer listened to at all.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Brigitte Tohm on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Winsome Dreams – 17/12/20

    Poem: Winsome Dreams – 17/12/20

    The reflection in the river is
    crystalline and sweet,
    it abides by the directives of
    hidden, winsome dreams.

    I am calm sitting by the water,
    I trail my fingers shallowly,
    I wonder to myself,
    will I grow,
    will I succeed,
    what will I need?

    What’s internal is enough,
    my strength and courage,
    steadfast inklings are sleek,
    not rough,

    the slim possibility of
    future untoward histories,
    lay broken, snapped,
    in the riverbed nearby,
    moments never again to be seen.

    I feel the air well inside my chest,
    as I take in everything truthful and freeing,
    nothing encumbering,
    no lying,
    no deceiving,
    I just need to be powerful in these moments
    to succeed,
    to stand my ground,
    to fight for what will cause my heart and mind
    to positively careen,
    amazement all around.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Alan Labisch on Unsplash

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