Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: suffering

  • Poem: the constant common denominator – 08/02/2022

    Poem: the constant common denominator – 08/02/2022

    It feels so natural to speak the truth

    Embedded with Constance to see me through

    Upon the tips of my tongue

    A hullabaloo

    And an irrevocable meaning, melding

    Of heartfelt growling too.

    They’re, we’re indestructible, I know,

    View the airiness within me as my two delicates rose

    I need not have not

    Want for material things because the truth is

    My spirit is soaring.

    No matter what you say or do

    You cannot take me from the stars

    From the skies

    The sighs and I quickly taste that bitter pill

    Of poison

    For some refuse me heavens door

    No matter how hard I rap or knock

    I cannot get in …

    Frantic cries for Doc!

    The paid spread the mayhem

    LOST

    I calm myself

    It’s only motes

    Or dust

    My being is travelling

    Astral through the sky

    Whisper I sleep prettily and dream of

    Wonderful butterflies

    Shush as they encompass me

    Their light winged air begging me to stare at

    Their wondrous dramatic colours of sweet rich hues

    Nothing like where upon the earth,

    We are hunted for training

    For sailing for achievements

    For ENTERTAINMENT and more

    I am no more a sheep for fleece as steak is to hunger

    I refuse to be your sacrifice any longer r

    Before those guilty of harbouring powers from me for so many years

    Stuff you and your sister and your job cause your beard, because hey,

    I kinda like your beard. 🙂

    Returning in all seriousness, don’t cease my ability to soar, I don’t NEED you now, all I needs myself is my mind, my wits and the ability to laugh at funny situations.

    Because laughter shared is happiness gained, my love. Did you not know that?

    I like you more or less. 🙂

    (C) copyright 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

  • Artwork: the lantern – 04/12/21

    Artwork: the lantern – 04/12/21

    the lantern meant to light my way
    brighten my path and send me sway
    with her i thought i would travel, gain
    but same same same
    the admirable? extravagant pain.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. (artwork, poem)

    Previous Post: Poem/Audio: contemplation — gusting down to earth – 04/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram: @laurenm.hancock

  • Poem: Where Have You Been? – 17/04/20

    Poem: Where Have You Been? – 17/04/20

    Unknowing of where you’ve been,
where have you travelled?
Where has your mind taken you?
Is it to the edge of your despair?

Are you aching,
begging to be heard without any
actual words?
Misunderstood,
underappreciated?
Does this strike a chord?
 
Do you wish you could move on quicker
to achieve your goals
within your dreams?
Is there a hollow in you
needing to be filled?
Measurements two by two,
or maybe just a clearer view.
 
I hate to see you in distress,
you feel you hide it well,
and from the world you want to encase yourself,
a solid armour,
self-protection still,
where the wind and sound will
rush over your body and not even care,
you will find that anonymity there.
 
And huddled in the tunnel you’ll be,
against the thick of a storm which strangely frees you
from hefty concerns and worries
which drag, drag you down,
and now you’re just a molecule
or a large particle
against which beats the busy air.
 
I can sense your freedom now
in the darkness,
in the shadows of that tunnel,
some may find such a situation
claustrophobic, atrocious,
but you, dear,
are released by the air,
being pounded by winds is no trouble,
each gust dispels care upon care.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
Image by Genty from Pixabay 

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • Poem: shut-up prizes – 24/01/20

    Poem: shut-up prizes – 24/01/20

    Contemplate ahead of the moment
where precious jewels sparkle upon fingers of 
mad yet calculated women,
where even madder men will fight to keep them happy
but with their demands, ongoing,
complaints, eternal sufferings,
maddest men’s eyes look elsewhere,
for new hands to bear,
new hearts to win over.
 
The bejewelled, once beguiling women,
tap tap tap their manicured nails upon the sink,
waiting for their husbands to return late from work,
his inevitable sigh to engulf the room,
of his own self-proclaimed suffering,
and roll in he does, scented by 
the faintest lingering perfume,
she turns her face away, hurt, as though slapped but nothing’s said or done.
 
She will pretend she doesn’t notice,
this time, and the next,
because out of the slightest guilt borne from his activities,
he purchases her more jewels,
more gold, then an increase of her credit limit,
and she supposes this is all she deserves,
if she were to leave him,
she’d have far less,
in comparison it’d seem as though nothing,
so, gritting her teeth she smiles
when receiving the shut-up prizes.
 
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
All images signed “LMH”
are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock
and all rights reserved.

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • Poem: Way Back When: The Snow Globe – 11/12/19

    Poem: Way Back When: The Snow Globe – 11/12/19


     Turn this snow globe upside down,
     shake it left to right,
     around and ‘round,
     watch the glitter settle, 
     upon a now-glistening figure,
     upon her nose a mere flicker, 
     a perfectly pretty picture. 
      
     Way back when,
     things were simpler, 
     her angst wasn’t as present,
     no sense of preoccupation, 
      
     when she could slide into her bed,
     or curl up on a hill, 
     and voraciously devour the life story of another,
     of their words she’d have her fill. 
      
     How she ached at their poignant moments,
     suffered along with their harrowing experiences, 
     and looked up to those brave enough, 
     to detail the troubles and horrors of their lives,
     whether self-inflicted or because of another’s devices;
     strife is considered strife. 
      
     So, she learned their tales, 
     their pains, their sorrows
     and took on their experiences, 
     wondering how some of them walked away unscathed,
     but in truth, she knew, that like her, 
    they too likely still carried hidden scars of suffering, 
     the snow globe’s shining glitter isn’t always as it seems. 
      
     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

    Return to All Posts

    Home