Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: writing

  • 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: 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: Welcome Visitors – 31/07/21

    Poem: Welcome Visitors – 31/07/21

    Away with me as I fly
    to sea,
    watching the world fall beneath me,
    I am free
    to see the wonder and
    the mess of my land,
    that space in between
    falsity and reality,

    I need to realise the scarcity
    of danger does not mean
    that it is non-existent, but rather
    it is there lurking,
    waiting,
    attempting to gain its
    personal power,
    but what is the point in delving
    when no one is there to commence caring,
    to begin embracing,
    to be there, understanding,
    baring my soul
    for a silent audience?
    Shall I ever know?

    Did my words have any impact,
    will their truths finally be shown?

    I realise the long and short of the matter is
    that if I soared, on my own accord,
    there is no need to be admired,
    or reassured,
    no requirement to be acknowledged,
    a certain word barrage,
    and then I will know,
    to myself, that there is
    a time,
    a place,
    a space,
    for when I will be known for the words
    that I have sewn.

    The cobwebs can remain in my room
    for as long as they like,
    because the host,
    their lady with the most,
    will always be home.

    She will greet you when you arrive.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Pezibear from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Morning Walks’ – 31/07/21

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  • Poem: Morning Walks – 30/07/21

    Poem: Morning Walks – 30/07/21

    Horizon stretches so far away
    early in the morning,
    sunlight drenches, beckons,
    welcoming with fingertips
    gentle and knowing,

    strokes of sunshine,
    pristine perfection,
    our hearts pound as
    upon the pavement
    our pattering feet move,
    reaching our goal,
    though it matters not so much now
    as the bonding time does,
    this is so very true.

    My eyes dance upon the
    scene before us,
    pathway, passing neighbours,
    fluffy companions,
    smiles or avoidance?

    Masks may hide greetings
    but they cannot shield the
    glimmer and shine within eyes,
    and while the present climate may have
    crushed some from wanting to
    pass our forms,
    we know they’re practicing safety
    and looking after us and themselves.

    Still, I can’t help but feel a
    brushing off sometimes,
    it’s okay,
    if they’re afraid,
    we know the drill.

    Sometimes we cannot smile,
    but inside our hearts are
    grateful for being allowed out,
    to laugh and chat with each other,
    discuss our troubles and blessings with
    one another.

    The occasional Good morning! or
    brightened set of eyes
    are something to look forward to,
    inside we know that eventually
    the fear within the hearts of others
    will fade away.

    These days,
    these days, it’s different,
    though, like before,
    with time,
    it will return to the same.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by James Wheeler on Unsplash

    Previous Post: ‘Strive’ – 28/07/21

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  • Poem: Flushed Magnolias – 28/07/21

    Poem: Flushed Magnolias – 28/07/21

    the strength within is something which
    must be seen,
    peel away those layers,
    let us view within,
    the armour, so thickly wrought,
    over years of abuse and mockery,
    self-taught, self-taught.

    darling, it’s time to make that move,
    inhabit a better place,
    wipe away your gloom,
    shine bright unto another day
    and then the next,
    your armour always protects,
    come what may.

    I know, I know, sweetheart,
    that at times it hurts,
    recalling that past behaviour,
    sour-filled words,
    you didn’t speak kindly to yourself,
    you spoke down to your ego,
    denigrated your heart,
    and at times, you tore yourself apart,

    but now, you can reach forth,
    aim for the stars,
    show that strength within that
    came with truth, experience,
    and the strongest of arms.

    know this, darling,
    my sweetheart,
    the yearning
    for more, from life,
    from your world,
    the pain is done,
     
    watch as your kingdom will come,
    truth be told the errors of self-talk
    will come undone,
    and your language will become fluent
    with self-love.

    it’s time to breathe freely,
    no encumbered breaths,
    infant-milky scent,
    from innocence you have grown,
    and into more, a strong woman
    you have become,

    in fact, shed that armour,
    for its strength has become a
    part of you,
    there’s no need for chainmail
    or steel layers
    when life’s become more peaceful,
    beautiful,
    more spiritual
    than a vase of flushed magnolias.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Rows of Rosies’ – 26/07/21

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  • Poem: Perfect Imperfections – 24/07/21

    Poem: Perfect Imperfections – 24/07/21

    Desperation doesn’t dance in my lair no more,
    ancient lands where false paradise laid in store,
    I drag my feet, trail my hair,
    catch myself in a transient mirror,
    I stare, lower gaze, then bravely rise,
    continue to stare some more.

    It’s difficult to gaze into ‘imperfections’
    that make myself me,
    my mind calls out with interjections,
    telling myself I’m exactly the way God intended
    me to be,
    self-acceptance,
    understanding,
    it slowly grows like soft moss within,
    flourishing,
    lush,
    promising,
    plush and ever-green.

    The sadness that used to plague,
    the desire, the want, to always change,
    the need to shrink, slim,
    now I raise a hand craftily,
    cock one hip,
    I am cheeky,
    for I know the secret here,
    I became more within,
    image doesn’t always have to fuel
    internal fires,
    in fact,
    focusing out the outer can fuel
    a dangerous inferno,
    an unwanted din.

    It is what is within that counts,
    am I happy with how I’m feeling,
    that matters most,
    am I confident,
    can I take my world in my stride,
    get up upon that rhetoric in life,
    and ride, ride, windswept, breathless,
    in control,
    ride?

    With maturity came preservation,
    with preservation came self-understanding,
    comprehension, direction,
    I know what truths I am sowing,
    even without the drive to direct in just one direction,
    I know, I know that my heart and mind
    are peaceful together,
    they’re becoming a solved puzzle of
    correct interaction.

    My soul doesn’t call out for acceptance,
    no longer calls out for
    painfully obvious acknowledgement,
    I don’t need the eyes to
    view what I already know,
    that my presence is enough,
    I am enough within this world.

    My heart, once a prison,
    is a cage thrown open,
    the dove is free for escaping,
    but she remains,
    treasured,
    adored,
    she is amazing,
    her own form of perfection,
    in short, she makes it.  

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Fuu J on Unsplash

    Previous Post: ‘Luminous’ – 22/07/21

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  • Poem: Waltz – 20/07/21

    Poem: Waltz – 20/07/21

    Our feet together,
    they step in time,
    gentle footsteps,
    intertwine,
    yielding memories,
    forthcoming hope,
    endangered circumstance,
    thoughts, hearts, pump, grow.

    I know the understanding I have is
    too right,
    that the assertions made shall
    linger into the night,
    hands held,
    palm to palm,
    they know,
    intuitively speaking,
    they meld,
    we meld,
    complex love disarms,
    its truths it is singing.

    We are not borne of wind
    nor shore,
    we do not trail the sand of
    distant moors,
    we enlist the capacity of a
    united front,
    our waltz is independent of others,
    desperate need will not depart.

    So, I cling to you,
    and you latch onto me,
    holding us together,
    our pieces join so lovingly,
    there is little to say further
    on the matter,
    the county knows our hearts’ patterns
    by now,
    we are wild circumstance and longing,
    our youthful love
    steals the show.

    So, quieten down now,
    these wild-footed, sweeping beats,
    gentle taps now,
    our sweet soft melody,
    our beat, our rhythm,
    our precious time,
    taken in as our developmental style,
    we shall remain together,
    despite all paraded before us,
    protests spoken all the while,
    our bond is special,
    it reassures us.

    Who knew we’d be present, together,
    after all this time?
    Ached through much,
    years of frenzied dance,
    yet remaining palm to palm,
    an intricate understanding,
    a gentle touch,
    our voices now,
    we sing in rich key,
    beautiful duet —
    an honourable melody.

    Richness of understanding,
    how well you know me,
    our interactions are made with
    the smoothest of ease,
    our version of love blossoms,
    like wildflowers, it grows with speed,
    some don’t understand us,
    but we’ve nothing to prove,
    it’s our land,
    our world of in-between,
    that we inhabit and waltz through
    with joy, so freely.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Battlefield’ – 20/07/21

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  • Poem: Battlefield – 19/07/21

    Poem: Battlefield – 19/07/21

    As I sit in my rocking chair
    I ponder to myself,
    what is there to contemplate or even know,
    how should I proceed in life,
    these stumbling blocks keep coming,
    they are rife,
    and they trash my days and hours,
    slitting them open like warm butter
    attacked with a knife.

    Eyes within, they glower,
    witnesses who think they know me more than me,
    so much better,
    they glance upon with mediocrity in their eyes,
    pity begins to flower.

    I cannot help myself,
    despairing feelings overwhelm,
    they irritate and sadden me all
    at the same time,
    emotions coagulate,
    they brew inside of me,
    whilst the others watch on freely,
    I’m ashamed in this moment
    to be such a sensitive entity.

    Because usually, generally,
    I am adamant,
    I do not let damp sadness get the
    better of me,
    and yet
    here I am,
    looking out upon myself,
    like a sad sack of sand on the pavement,
    where is my power,
    my strident ability to rise above
    this ailment?

    Still, I sit,
    rock and rock away,
    mechanically, forward and back,
    whiling away the day,
    and eventually, the aches and groans internally
    might fade away,
    there’s no room for brightness but
    at least the clouds have maybe cleared
    for the day.

    And perhaps this is all a mere moment which will
    pass away,
    the gloom will leave this room,
    this mental space, cavity, prison, I’ve assumed,
    soon I will take the reins
    and ride forward, tossing my mane here and there,
    astride will I ride into battle
    without a single care.

    And then I will pre-empt the almighty force
    that beckons and crawls to me
    making me feel so unassured,
    I will become belligerent toward the pain,
    I will hunt it down,
    I will triumph above,
    sadness squeals in vain,
    how about that,
    I tell the witnesses,
    as I dismount my beast,
    evermore the battlefields with my
    courage and valiant honour
    are stained,
    I have allowed them to see
    the true me.
     
    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Away Without Leave’ – 18/07/21

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  • Sunshine Blogger Award! – 16/07/21

    Sunshine Blogger Award! – 16/07/21

    Lovely Grace of Grace of the Sun recently nominated me for the Sunshine Blogger Award, and I thank her kindly for her wonderful nomination. This is the second blogger award she’s put me forth for, and I am so grateful for this. The Sunshine Blogger Award is an award shared by bloggers to other bloggers who help spread creativity and positivity! Grace’s work covers many topics and has many bright, positive and thoughtful facets to the content she shares with us all daily. On her blog, she shares her point of view, and what brings her joy. Please check out her page Grace of the Sun to experience her positivity, joy and sparkle today.

    Rules:

    • Thank the blogger who nominated you and link back to their blog.
    • Answer the 11 questions sent by the person who nominated you.
    • Nominate 11 new bloggers to receive the award and write them 11 new questions.
    • List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo in your post and/or your blog.

    Grace’s Questions

    1. What is your proudest accomplishment?
      Self-publishing my first book. One of my childhood dreams was to be a children’s book author.  
    2. What makes you laugh the most?
      Speaking with and joking around with friends makes me laugh; making witty remarks with them also.
    3. If you met you, would you want to be your friend and why?
      I would want to be my friend because I am open and welcoming, and I feel I have a brightness about my personality.
    4. What do you like most about yourself?
      I like that I am creative, and thoughtful and caring, especially toward the people close to me.
    5. If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?
      Pancit, a Filipino rice noodle dish! It is absolutely delicious, and my auntie makes it wonderfully.
    6. If you can be anyone else in the world, who would you be or would you be yourself?
      Even though we can admire another’s life from afar, we do not know the inner workings of their world and mind. Thus, it is difficult to answer if I would like to be someone else. I only inherently know about my life, so I would remain as I am and be myself.
    7. Who is your hero?
      A hero of mine would be my mother. She has been through a lot, especially health-wise as of late, and she always has a positive attitude and resilience about her.
    8. What motivates you most?
      The idea of being heard and understood.
    9. What did you want to be when you were small?
      A children’s book author and in an orchestra.
    10. If you could choose to do anything for a day, what would it be?
      Drink coffee and lounge all day at a dog café that has friendly pooches who will want pats and want to play!
    11. Would you say you are resentful or can you let go of things easily?
      Depending on the circumstance, I can be resentful, but I am learning to be more forgiving and let go of things. Learning to do this does take time.

      These are the questions for my nominees:
    1. How do you deal with regretful situations?
    2. What is a joyous moment for you?
    3. When you’re inspired to write, is it in a frenzy or a controlled manner, how do the words flow onto the page?
    4. What is the most important object in your life, and what significance does it hold for you?
    5. Are you a coffee or a tea person?
    6. What would be your ideal way to enjoy a Sunday?
    7. Name one hobby that you enjoy and why.
    8. Share a treasured memory of yours?
    9. Name a favourite song of yours from a musical.
    10. Would you consider yourself an extrovert or introvert?
    11. And does this affect the way you write for your blog?

    My NOMINEES :

    Previous Post: ‘Be Prepared, Be Prepared’ – 16/07/21
    Previous Post: ‘Adorn’ – 14/07/21
    Previous Post: ‘The Flea Market Contraption’ – 15/07/21

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  • Poem: The Flea Market Contraption – 15/07/21

    Poem: The Flea Market Contraption – 15/07/21

    The flea market presents –
    options – one-of-a-kinds,
    and rip-off pieces,
    poor imitations,
    badly woven threads,
    lurid patterns,
    blatant patent breaches seen,
    and the imaginary,
    the ingenuity,
    and the copies of a land
    in between.

    I peruse the stalls,
    pace back and forth,
    my timid tippy-toes,
    they don’t guide me,
    they don’t lead me,
    I’m unsure of what to
    sample in this flea market
    land I’m in.

    Some ideas are magical,
    well-presented products,
    smartly dressed merchants
    in hide-away stalls,
    others are horrid,
    they hurt my eyes,
    these products, rubbish,
    unworthy of meeting
    hands or eyes.

    Amongst the trash and beauty,
    objects I see,
    I spot a contraption that
    might be for me.
    It is the making of
    cloudy billowy dreams,
    sanctified, certified?
    No, but perfect for I.

    It promises to churn through
    all my ideas,
    promises to rid me of
    encumbering fears
    and will lay away
    any confronting questions
    thrown my way,
    it will replenish my mind
    for many days.

    A mind-clearer,
    a dream-recycler,
    a precious gatherer
    of many mental pictures,
    the imagery within,
    perhaps barely initially seen,
    unclouded, decoded,
    all work done,
    prepared for me!

    But then I wonder
    is this not like a disease?
    Something which eats away,
    erodes at my dreams?
    Erasing me in ways
    I dare not speak,
    by bluntly, superficially
    simplifying me?

    And I cannot have this,
    I must remain complex,
    hard to delve into,
    thoughts difficult to be met,
    and so away with
    this idea,
    this contraption for me,

    I’d rather be convoluted,
    a puzzle unsolved,
    until I’m ready to make
    the pieces fly free.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by aytuguluturk from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘Adorn’ – 14/07/21

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