Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: prosody

  • Poem: Placement – 10/02/20

    Can Redeemable I be, thy irreverent clause?
    A chink in the armour, karmic retribution calls?
    Truth tells, forever yours?
    I’ll be loyal, less judgemental and kind,
    But boy how I will need to bite my tongue at perceived thieves who wish to reach and ride alongside.

    I will smile and be lovely, teach the students about my condition daily,
    But did I feel comfortable enough to allow them to see?
    No, this bristling anger, this aggravation felt within me.

    Within this soul is the devils clasp, gripping me surely tightly forever it seems he will outlast
    I do not know how to cause the grievances and illegitimate littering around a litter of short tongued beings biting at the bit for a ride of sorts, a trot, a canter, should we gallop, dare I beg to ask?

    Because what calms me is him, the big M, the man himself, from a far off land he hails,
    Mozart cures, he develops, him to me he brightens with joy and overwhelms.

    I love this source, the Source, of very life itself m, magnificent it would be to touch this master’s pages, originals, my heart, I would gasp.

    So how now is my mental health, you might ask? The term there dancing on everybody’s hearts.
    Well well well, I am getting there, I am improving, I am becoming better, a gentle rewording, a subtler knowing. Pages of cadenzas on the paper singing songs Melodies for one another
    Mozart, won’t he pen another melody,
    His giggling curio so lovely to see feel, whilst he be?

    Changing my keys,
    Unlocked by nobody but those who can truly see
    My irreverences were part and are in part of my melodic manic suffering,
    Won’t you dance with me?
    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.

    Image from Google

  • Prose: Attraction – So Sweetly – 03/06/21

    Prose: Attraction – So Sweetly – 03/06/21

    The wind is howling; dashing gentlemen have gone away. Perturbed though I am, I do not wish they could have stayed. For their presence was an encumbrance, they meddled with my mind, seems boisterous to determine, my disinterest easy enough to find. I wish I could have run screaming, through the fields, because I was not made for manufactured love, bottled, predated, stamped illegally as a pull, begrudgingly made a deal.

    There is no direction to be gleaned or sought after in a land of falsifications, damaged connections from the very beginning. And they terrified me so, I need firm structures, my mind stages, my personal growth, I did not need the round of dastardly gentlemen to approach and then court me — they’re unknowns.

    I have my own energy, I breathe off each moment of respiration, counterfeit love potions become annihilations, and winding on the pavement it is easy enough to see, who has learned I’m not to meant to wed, to love, maintain, to be, unless it is freely?

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

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