Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: writer

  • Poem: Weeping Willow – 25/08/21

    Poem: Weeping Willow – 25/08/21

    Weeping willow reminds me
    of stormy challenges,
    of riotous heart poundings,
    of emotional damages.

    Weeping willow, fretting leaves,
    gives me a sense of hope,
    her bent back fingers
    laze,
    but within her, their pathway I know,

    like me, like you,
    as her,
    she represents such harmony
    within our souls
    there’s nothing raw nor taut
    if we’ve accepted that
    this world occasionally brings storms,
    and challenges and tribulations,
    crashing thunder, frightful thunder
    within our scope,
    within the pain, the suffering,
    the madness,
    we. are. able. to. cope.

    My weeping willow,
    garden feat’
    enlivens me,
    when she shows me that
    acceptance of turmoil is right,

    she’s there shrouding in the
    dead of night,
    even if I ask her if new, bold,
    resilience is right,
    I know, down to the last detail,
    every leaf, every length,
    what is mighty,
    being strong, fruitful,
    in this life.

    Fingers dragging
    but perception is
    calm, and the forecast
    is bright.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Fran on Unsplash

    Previous Post: Writer’s Blocked – 23/08/21

    Previous Post: Boldness – 24/08/21

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  • Poem: ‘Tween Hearts – 15/08/21

    Poem: ‘Tween Hearts – 15/08/21

    Wonder streams through gaps
    ‘tween trees,
    shrubbery welcomes gusty breeze,
    laughter twinkles above horizon seam,
    magic brightens eyes,
    I’ve no inclination to leave this scene.

    Hands entrust
    something precious ‘neath
    benevolent sun,
    heart pounds,
    mood ecstatic,
    forged bonds,
    yes! Cries of yes
    affirms tearful nods.

    It’s the beginning
    of something precious,
    glimmer in excess,
    gems cut a shine,
    refractions bold,
    I stress,

    dances of rainbow shimmer
    upon her delicate finger,
    his proud chest puffed forth
    in a glorious manner,
    as though a proud peacock,
    strutting about now
    with his love,
    eternal partner,
    fervent dove,
    his salvation,
    his lucky treasure,
    his precious love,
    now and forever.

    The breeze bears witness
    to this union,
    cemented, emphatic,
    bold and nuanced,
    there’s admiration within her eyes,
    his cast grateful passion
    as he glances nigh,
    for they are as one,
    wondrous breeze streams past their joy,
    circumstance is hearts quickened,
    such beauty before I.

    And now I retreat into
    the freshness of the forest,
    thinking I’ve viewed something
    so special,
    deep down, I know,
    I am aware, that
    his manner, so articulate,
    and her acceptance,
    thus glorious,
    is enough to decide
    that in my life,
    I’ll welcome every warm,
    heartfelt circumstance
    with enveloping acceptance.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Her Sorcery – 13/08/21

    Previous Post: ‘The Hot Room’ – 13/08/21

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  • Poem: Her Sorcery – 13/08/21

    Poem: Her Sorcery – 13/08/21

    Haunted are her eyes
    above a winsome smile,
    wistful character is she,
    hoping for more
    in a while.

    Fallen by the wayside,
    all her trickery,
    her witchery,
    her cosmetics,
    her haberdashery.

    By goodness what is told
    beneath those furrowed brows?
    Heavy times envisaged,
    poignant moments told,
    she loves to flicker
    her eyes from the
    land to the sea,
    a calming peacefulness
    takes over she.

    Without her layers,
    which peeled away
    one by one,
    she’s naked as the babe
    she entered the world as,
    all magic spells come undone,
    without the falsity
    of rare moments of rage,
    she no longer finds herself
    or others
    disharmoniously caged.

    For their prison was this –
    requirements to abide by society,
    she just wants to flow now,
    rippling waves,
    breathe, gasp freely,
    ride the swells of less commotion,
    battle away prior despair,
    no longer a ‘witch’ but a
    fair haired innocent maiden…

    What was wrong with her sorcery?
    She’d not ever know,
    only condemned for being
    different,
    not lining up in
    conforming rows,
    her magic is what
    she held pride in,
    what made her so proud,
    shriek and cackle
    she wishes now,
    to elaborate aloud.

    They have changed her,
    made her ‘pure’,
    sootiness cast away,
    undo, undo,
    bring back the smudges,
    the unsightly smears,
    her darkness is, was, forthcoming,
    can you feel it, dears?
    There’s so much she has to say,
    watch as the pretences fall away.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Tania Medina on Unsplash

    Previous Post: ‘The Hot Room’ – 13/08/21

    Previous Post: ‘Interior’ – 11/08/21

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  • Poem: With Ease – A Swan Song – 09/08/21

    Poem: With Ease – A Swan Song – 09/08/21

    Living for the momentum and
    living for the dream,
    thoughts tossed,
    bruised and broken,
    living despite ill feeling.

    The circumstances are these:
    I do not taunt, I do not tease,
    I live above and beyond,
    how I experience the world,
    predication, I know it, for these.

    Warble yet, my dear swan,
    gangly neck though thee has,
    I do not know, do not know,
    whether the games played,
    stone’s thrown,
    will seriously cause another to
    come undone,
    thoughts expelled,
    contemplative or mad.

    The truth, the fact of the matter is,
    I’m rather like my own swan of truth,
    interweaving elegance and wings which flap
    with ease,
    bright glide and there’s no other
    than that another,
    who knows of my true crazy patterns
    they’re lived, so breathed,
    within, deep personal power.

    For it is with fluidity, with comfortability,
    that I have been allowed to define,
    contemplation, rumination, no stagnation,
    progress within this virulent nation,
    why, is this not a sight for sorry eyes?

    Treasuring this life as mine,
    gracious though precious be,
    I am grateful for my life situation,
    so much is calling unto me.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: Refractions – 09/08/21

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  • Poem: Shade – 07/08/21

    Poem: Shade – 07/08/21

    Light and shade,
    I sweep the curtains shut,
    keeping creeping moody blues
    in mind,
    seems they’ll never stop.

    Heaving and breathing,
    huffing and a-puffing,
    affected am I this night,
    heathens nesting in the room
    from dawn until morning light.

    Struggles to create
    in a manner bright and saved,
    annoyances in the gutter,
    when will my thoughts be tamed?
    For I am ailing, but to some,
    no matter, I’m the one
    who should troupe on regardless
    of what I’m lacking in
    my personal power.

    I loathe, I hate,
    this weakness in myself,
    the inability to say no,
    wanting to please,
    keep their flashy smiles
    in a row,
    whilst I, I sit here in pain,
    distended dreams,
    dreamt in vain,
    upon the moody windowpane,
    trickles of falsified tears,
    rain trails there to be admired,
    cleansed pathways reverse-inked
    in droves.

    Light and shade calls forth
    but all that seems present
    is shade and shadows thrown,
    there is no sunrise rising,
    no beauty in my morning,
    I mourn for things which I yearned for,
    calling,
    yowling presence causes progress
    to begin stalling.

    The bracken in this bonfire
    lit by a little match,
    how small a thought can then
    become an inferno,
    developing into disgust in myself
    as of late,

    what happened to living my
    best life,
    I’m exhausted to the point
    I cannot breathe…
    stifling this shallow breath,
    for recycled air,
    I begin to heave and heave.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Rafael Leão on Unsplash

    Previous Post: Distance – 06/08/21

    Previous Post: Open Arms – 05/08/21

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  • Poem: Rose – 07/08/21

    Poem: Rose – 07/08/21

    What we are and what we feel are
    two different concepts,
    notions I need to feel,
    I watch from within as thoughts build and layers
    harden then peel
    like ancient flakes of house paint decorating
    that life we accepted and treasured within,
    I know through deep understanding
    that each flake tells a story,
    it’s witnessed so much of life
    to be felt, heard, and seen.

    What I feel is a blossoming,
    a wafting rose developing,
    from a tiny elaborate bud into
    much,
    much more,
    complexities created,
    so much in store,

    her fragrance is intoxicating,
    I do not yearn for anything but her
    in the morning,
    a pin-pricking, her warning,
    to be gentle with her,
    patience never stalling.

    A petal drops –
    by goodness, what a shame,
    her story is unfolding,
    but losing beauty? –
    should the ache in my heart refrain?
    Because it is with dying that she is
    breathing life,
    to live is to expire,
    but to experience is proof of internal fire.

    And her flames are astounding,
    she’s alive, so vivid now,
    effervescent, glowing
    the flakes of paint fall into an inferno,
    fuelling her understanding
    that to live is to capture and incinerate
    what the world deems as beauty,
    there’s much more to her presence,
    behind there is more than a duty,
    it’s a requirement fulfilled morally.

    And it is with experience that she
    continues to grow,
    her form is not lopped,
    stunted growth,
    to entertain others with her vision,
    with her dangerous thorns
    as protection,
    for her wonder in the morning
    and beyond,
    we think, we feel,
    we consider what she does,
    what notions there are to accept,
    as necessary?

    Sometimes it’s required that our awareness
    is measured,
    and our hearts, oh, our hearts,
    must begin to beat harder,
    no option for slowing,
    no option for stalling,
    they should continue to beat fiercely,
    uncontrollably.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Meghan Schiereck on Unsplash


    Previous Post: Distance – 06/08/21

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  • Poem: Distance – 06/08/21

    Poem: Distance – 06/08/21

    the distance between myself and the south side
    of that road,
    the longest path I’m sure some have
    ever known,
    try to tiptoe along the lane,
    whisper under breath,
    assertions born tame,
    but they are still valid,
    present they be,
    a jolt, a justification seems questionable,
    but in the end, both visions and truth
    are vividly seen as the same.

    and now, as I wander down
    the evergreens which line
    the pavement, luscious trees,
    ever beautiful, ever seen,
    flourishing, blossoming,
    while I, I circumspect,
    within there is much to
    be seen.

    what to view? you might wonder,
    as I physically wander, whilst I myself wonder,
    there seems not much, but there is
    too much to ponder,
    I must make allowances,
    the membrane of my mind is
    calling for something more,
    to comprehend, from yonder,
    what’s awaiting me,
    what’s in store?

    let me see what there is to gain
    from dancing through rapid-cycling
    thought trains,
    take a ride on the great red caboose,
    the trajectory, its path,
    there is much to transport,
    have I the capacity, mental fuel?
    why, of course I do.

    and as I hop aboard this vehicular entity,
    parading around the south side with
    ridiculous ease,
    I no longer wonder,
    and damned will I be to wander,
    when I can take the heights of self-indulgence
    to an nth degree,
    carry it around with me

    with great honour.

    and prismatic will that be,
    rainbow glow, hues,
    spectacularly,
    I’m not afraid to show a glimmer,
    a glittering
    fantastically,
    ride those streams of consciousness,
    bare the nudity that comes with
    baring one’s soul freely.

    there’s no ego,
    no arrogance,
    when all I wanted
    was to share a window within.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Caleb Jones on Unsplash

    Previous Post: ‘Open Arms’ – 05/08/21

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  • Poem: Open Arms – 05/08/21

    Poem: Open Arms – 05/08/21

    Offering who I am,
    affirming when I can,
    positivity leads me into open arms,
    genuine, willing hands,

    they welcome me with hearts assured,
    love and circumstance, visions focussed,
    never blurred,
    shared life purposes,
    becoming more,
    a world of truth,
    so bright and pure.

    I feel the rhythm of our pulse,
    we wanderlust,
    travel in minds most,
    we stretch our desires,
    make our thoughts wise,
    ponder the true meanings of life.

    And then I’ll sit with all
    and we can say,
    that we are doing this our
    very own way,
    there are no trials, tribulations,
    only challenges and explorations,
    what does it mean to truly be human,
    a light-seeker,
    what’s my mission in this world,
    my fate to be unfurled?

    I will have to study my flight path,
    my purposes can be many,
    intuitive,
    unlimited,
    I simply have to select some
    and grow,
    my destiny is mine to behold —
    all I know is that it is vivid, sumptuous, and sunny.  

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Steve Halama on Unsplash

    Previous Post: ‘Vast Mind Dreaming’ – 03/08/21

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  • Poem: Vast Mind Dreaming – 03/08/21

    Poem: Vast Mind Dreaming – 03/08/21

    Calm and tranquil,
    peaceful and still,
    allow your mind to relax,
    impregnate itself with
    freedom and richness,
    we are filled,

    feel the vast mind-space multiply into
    pockets of light where we can
    project thoughts and generosities;
    our souls sing and ring with verbosity
    into the silky night.

    Amazing as it is, we seem complex usually,
    though in this moment, stripped away,
    barren of damage,
    we’ve healed in the silence,
    allowed ourselves to fade
    into pastel dreaming,
    the softness of approaching day,
    the excitement of what might come,
    what may.

    Relaxed and refreshed,
    because we are here and now,
    subtle intricacies in a world once unknown,
    the single point of consciousness
    which we have drawn upon,
    second to none, darling,
    referenced,
    vibrant as one.   

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Adrian RA on Unsplash

    Previous Post: ‘Elusive Sleep – 03/08/21

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  • Poem: Crumble – 16/06/21

    Poem: Crumble – 16/06/21


    There are times when I crumble,
    rare they be, they’re there,
    can’t always be self-assured,
    my stomach turns,
    mind feels consumed,
    my carefree self, loaded with discomfiting airs.

    Unfortunate is the moment
    when I can’t rejoice
    because of what’s occurring,
    the panic, nervous anxiety,
    peering eyes,
    curious crowds?
    Overactive minds.

    I need to acknowledge my value,
    what my presence means
    in the world,
    I may be one of billions,
    but I’m unique
    in my own ways,
    a special individual,
    like any and all others.

    Truth unfurls,
    fetal position,
    now uncurl,
    standing tall,
    spine erect,
    eyes facing, direct,
    gaze unwavering,
    confidence bursting,
    lost in a moment,
    powerful vision,
    striding ahead —
    being utterly daring.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by kira schwarz from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Flick’ – 15/06/21

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