Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: writing

  • Poem: PRN – 26/01/21

    Poem: PRN – 26/01/21

    Look what they’ve done, 
    prescribed those tiny bullets,
    dissolving, smoking gun. 

    The lacklustre effect is taking, 
    lethargy, it is growing, 
    malaise, it is not helping, 
    boy, these tablets are not assisting. 

    But perhaps they’ll calm the mind
    in due time, 
    relax, replenish, 
    make the thoughts intertwine,
    as though ivy would, 
    or thin rope, 
    wound around and around, 
    gentle, 
    methodically, 
    the medication has brought hope. 

    Feeling less anxious now, 
    the PRN has made the world have less overwhelming, 
    in tow, 
    my ship is causing no drift, 
    I’m on crystalline waters, 
    with this agent, 
    there’s no need to think,
    the ability to relax is here and now,
    a wistful song, from inside my heart grows.
     
    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Diana Polekhina on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Not Quite a Love Song

    Poem: Not Quite a Love Song

    Allow the dripping of honey to coat the seconds together, 
    let the hearts join during the moments of playful banter, 
    but don’t permit the times to destroy the frivolity, 
    the joy, 
    the joviality, 
    to switch to seriousness, 
    to gruff, forlorn momentum,
    for the arrangement of seconds to become
    less than tidy. 

    There is not rhythm nor rhyme to analyse
    this time, 
    the now-saccharine aftertaste should wane, 
    and wane, and wane
    if it were to be misconstrued, 
    to take back the past would be in vain.

    This is not a love song, 
    this is not a calling to come along, 
    but what it is is a momentum, 
    a continuum, 
    from sadness through to healing, 
    learning to accept friendship amongst the dreaming.  

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 

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  • Poem: Celsius – 24/01/21

    Poem: Celsius – 24/01/21

    The heat takes to me as a tingle on my skin, 
    raised endorphins still allow the stinging in, 
    I feel faint, 
    this warmth I hate, 
    others are grateful, 
    the cool change I await. 

    Sweat begins to pool at the small of my back, 
    the nape of my neck, 
    I struggle, 
    looking for relief, 
    won’t the singeing rays abate?
    Temperamental, hissing under my breath, 
    I await, I await, the cool change yet. 

    Some glorify this heat, 
    dancing in its smiles and welcoming arms, 
    but I am grumpy, dehydrated, 
    sulking, 
    this heatwave, 
    it is unwanted,
    won’t its ferocity become placid?

    Perhaps I should be gracious and accept each passing moment,
    to practice gratitude and be thankful because
    life’s for living, 
    and complaining simply isn’t worth it.

    Despite my discomfort, 
    despite my dismay, 
    I throw my arms to the heavens and thank God for this day. 

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Jordan Stewart on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Beliefs – 24/01/21

    Poem: Beliefs – 24/01/21

    Believe me when I say
    finally the path is being laid. 
    No more erring, not more wandering
    down the garden path, 
    curiosity calling, 
    my eyes bright and prowling, 
    hoping to happen upon a sumptuous sight of 
    reverence and beauty, 
    truth and humility, 
    friendship and loyalty, 
    trust, and above all, 
    a close-knit family.

    The weave in my Life’s wefts has become tighter, 
    I’ve learned to control myself far better, 
    the outrage, the moods, the temper, 
    that which had always dragged me under. 

    Yet now, the past seems preposterous, 
    my behaviour childish and helpless, 
    tantrums, snapping, I’m now all about self-improvement, 
    and I govern as such toward those who also want a hand with it.

    Though, I can lead them to the water, 
    I cannot make them drink, 
    I can assist at guiding their thoughts but I cannot
    take away their independence and ability to think.

    Proactiveness is the way, to master oneself, 
    productivity opens one’s eyes and adds to self-worth, 
    my precious ones, rise on high. 
    Now soar, soar, with your supportive wings
    guiding you, 
    what to do, what to do?
    Improvements to be followed through. 

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Michael Olsen on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Raging Cafe – 23/01/21

    Poem: Raging Cafe – 23/01/21

    I arrived at the café in a raging mood, 
    everything felt wrong, angered me, made me feel misunderstood.
    Fluctuations in mood today carried on from yesterday,
    I was filled with upsets, overwhelmed with dismay. 

    I sniped, I snarked, I complained, I felt bitter, 
    could nothing go right, this is terrible, will it improve? I wondered.
    I’ve not had days like these in months, 
    everything has been somewhat right, 
    an improvement upon the next, 
    regeneration throughout the night. 

    Yet today I am in a rage, 
    better watch whom I address upon my page, 
    is there publish-worthy material I’d like to save?
    Quite possibly not, 
    I’d rather go into a mental haze 
    where I can zone out and forget every spiky emotion 
    that I can feel, 
    some will say stop complaining, and just deal.  

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Maria P on Unsplash

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  • Poem: A Discomforting Perusal – 22/01/21

    Poem: A Discomforting Perusal – 22/01/21

    They can make me out to feel unworthy,
    some hold judgments, quiet grievances,
    I can read it within their body language,
    their subtle nuances.

    They know me not from a piece of fruit,
    a bar of soap,
    a bough among many,
    thus why throw upon me offence when I am here
    to spend my precious pennies?

    Personal thoughts easily read,
    tones to be heard and analysed quickly,
    treat us all equally.

    I am not here to waste
    their time nor mine,
    my presence is valid,
    treat me respectfully,
    a smile can come so easily,
    construct it,
    share it freely.

    Perhaps due to untoward vibrations I’ll walk away,
    sale-less, the counter is devoid of chatter, notes and change,
    maybe I would have purchased
    but with the feelings lingering
    I’ll withdraw,
    nothing in hand,
    only ill feelings felt and carried away,
    perhaps throughout the morning they’ll be grasped.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: A Distant Memory – 18/01/21

    Poem: A Distant Memory – 18/01/21

    Dream out loud,
    whispers soft and true,
    eyes paled in comparison,
    a certain IOU.

    Yowling at the outside,
    come within open arms,
    burrowing into the times,
    these times,
    some don’t need to employ any charms.

    You can exist and impart wisdom
    in the surest ways you know how,
    a sparkle, a glimmer,
    wipe away the traces of sinners,
    watch their opportune moments grow.

    It should not be so difficult
    to lay away those relics from the past,
    brighten your mind,
    illuminate,
    I don’t have much more I’d like to ask.

    The heat and the flames
    can engulf you as one and the same,
    if you allow them to breathe into your soul,
    I would sincerely ask the opposite of the process,
    impart it to your name.

    The cessation, the end,
    the oblivion,
    once abomination,
    cataclysmic in its explosion,
    douse the present in calming potion.

    And then you’ll love,
    you’ll live,
    with sweet winding repose,
    capture the freshest linen-sweet scents,
    let them dance within your nose.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image from Unsplash

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  • Poem: Brightness – 17/01/21

    Poem: Brightness – 17/01/21

    Brightness engulfs that wicked room
    where tales were never shared.
    Where fears, anxiety,
    irreverently unfold within the gloom,
    resting concerns upon one’s hands.

    There is a quietness which is perturbed
    by the stately arrival of glaring white
    and unnatural upheaval,
    a certain something,
    a funk, a stink,
    which would bring one to their knees,
    into the darkest of thickets,
    the tangled thorns, the trees, the thistles.

    Do not cry for the moment of lost opportune,
    do not grieve, neither mourn,
    there is no end, only if wished for soon,
    there is nothing worth feeling lost about,
    because the presence, she lingers,
    lingers in a manner that takes words straight
    from awe-struck mouths and fingers.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo from Unsplash.

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  • Poem: Wheel of Stars – 13/01/21

    Poem: Wheel of Stars – 13/01/21

    The Wheel of Stars seems never to slow,
    blossoms bothered, scattered their presence grows,
    the eternity which awaits,
    turns and turns of fate,
    reading the images before my eyes,
    positive or negative fortunes accumulate.

    Midnight sky blotted with stars and shine,
    this road, the path ahead,
    it is all mine,

    I can rejoice at my arrival,
    strength at my return,
    I will lead the weary,
    eyes and hearts will burn.

    Truly, truly,
    will I know this,
    the path of least resistance will be filled
    with goodness,

    I may be hindered, but so too shall I grow,
    like an ivy which dances
    around an exquisite rose.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Imagine – 08/01/21

    Poem: Imagine – 08/01/21

    Imagine a world where there was no rough,
    no deception,
    no lies,
    where words from saints,
    not sinners were more than enough.

    Where the angels dance upon clouds so light
    that I can barely control my immense delight,
    imagine a world where brightness is assured,
    we glow,
    they glow,
    among the great oblivious and unknown.

    Clipped contractions do not exist,
    allow the sunlight to bless with her breath the mist,
    strength in armour,
    strength in the soul,
    gather the heartstrings,
    envelope emotions whole.

    There is nothing more to say,
    but the words will be cast on,
    like little fairies they glide in the wind,
    gentle and sweet,
    reverent and strong.

    Acknowledge this world before you
    open your eyes,
    there’s nothing left to question,
    no fall left to take,
    no demise.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Shot by Cerqueira on Unsplash

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