Tag: writing

  • Poem: Dull Tongue – 15/09/20

    Poem: Dull Tongue – 15/09/20

    I must move on,
    my tongue, dull and tired, can no longer remain clipped.
    I must move forth, in realising I am deserving of much more.
    I must step forward, understanding that I am worthy,
    I am priceless,
    I must go on, because I am strong,
    I am wise,
    and I must exercise this intelligence.

    For many hours, I sat here bubbling and brewing,
    angrily explaining how I have been made to feel.
    For many a-time I have expounded over and over
    exactly how actions or inaction cause me to believe
    negative things about myself,
    that my presence is merely humoured,
    and I cannot help but feel insulted,
    when something apparently more interesting came along –
    there goes the desire for this contemplative yet fiery poet.

    But I must understand there is little point in chasing after Disinterest,
    little point in tapping him on the shoulder repeatedly,
    why, that would be remiss,
    because why humour that character,
    why allow him my attentiveness,
    in doing so,
    this will mentally continue to take me down,
    and I cannot have that,
    I must retain my level of sparkling self-confidence,
    my golden shining crown.

    I think it’s odd how easily I’ve been cast aside,
    how love could be expressed in this loveless kind of way,
    but in another way, I am rather happy I’ve discovered this so early,
    how easily I can be replaced,
    although the other will scream I’m not being replaced,
    that they are simply occupying themselves,
    keeping themselves entertained.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Hugo Jehanne on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Speaking of Kindness… 14/09/20

    Poem: Speaking of Kindness… 14/09/20

    I can speak of kindness,
    of the heart,
    of warmth,
    of the joy of before, despite now,

    I can speak of closeness,
    of love,
    of holding hands while we’re all in rows,

    I can speak of courageousness,
    I can speak of strength,
    I can speak of resilience,

    I can speak of the potency of our inner charisma,
    of our undying self-knowledge.

    I understand that current times are heartbreaking,
    they are tough,
    they are causing pain and suffering to many,
    ongoing,

    and while I acknowledge this,
    I will encourage us to band together and become
    stronger than ever,

    to determine what we can do for one another,
    to give credence and hope
    to each other.

    To be able to place a hand upon another’s shoulder and say,
    “I understand what you’re going through,
    even though I may not have experienced it this day”

    the empathy will shine through like a light unto a
    previously-darkened tunnel,

    and if the recipient does not want the light,
    there is no problem,
    perhaps they’ll welcome it tomorrow.

    For we have become a little shy and inward
    during these times,
    afraid of reaching out to humankind,

    insular, toward ourselves,
    if we open up our hearts,
    we’ll feel the warmth of someone else.

    To share in what you have,
    to delight in sharing a few words with a passing stranger,
    to see the smile in one’s eyes above a mask as they pass,
    why, that is beauty in and of itself.

    The connection between human beings is more than ever
    important to people such as you and I,
    and we’ll feel the pain and suffering,
    ease, ease, ease,

    connections are ever so important,
    we must keep these linked,
    inextricably,

    because if we don’t have hands to hold,
    no one to lean upon each other,
    then who will we have if we start failing
    at harnessing our inner power?

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo credit: United Nations Covid-19 Response on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Light on the Horizon – 13/09/20

    Poem: Light on the Horizon – 13/09/20

    What is this headiness I feel
    when I gaze into the horizon?
    The feeling that everything will be okay reassures me,
    calms me during this fine day.

    The tears wept and shed a night prior
    which wracked my soul and
    reminded me of the reality
    we all face here
    have caused my body to ache,
    my head to suffer,
    but now, no more.

    The release, the utter flooding of emotion
    was required at the time,
    and while I rarely sob,
    it was something I needed to own,
    I realised how I truly felt inside
    which I don’t acknowledge most times.

    But the headiness when I gaze into the horizon,
    the colourful morning canvas splashed with
    resonating fire and pastel caresses,
    the sight welcomes me and makes certain that I will feel its
    strength and beauty within me each moment
    that I recall the vision in my waking dreams.

    There is nothing to mourn,
    only that which I should cherish,
    the time together,
    the future and present moments in which
    my mother and I can meld
    our spoken dreams, our woven company.

    I will remember these times,
    events, no matter that they were
    sometimes taken for granted,
    our time here is actually so precious,
    each moment spent with her is
    downright momentous.

    I want to recall the precious times,
    not remember any negativity or suffering.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Laib Khaled on Unsplash

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  • Reflection: An Angel’s Tiny Feathers – 12/09/20

    Reflection: An Angel’s Tiny Feathers – 12/09/20

    An angel smiles down upon me. I know she’s the one who’s been sending me those floaty, tiny, white feathers. A message from the heavens, reassuring me, her way of telling me that we are all being looked after. Often, I have been seeing them, floating into my sight out of nowhere; they make me smile, and I wonder, I wonder, I did wonder who was behind them.

    Research is an amazing thing. I discover so much possible meanings behind her blessings and the messages she is sending me are special, and unique, and true. She is protecting myself and my loved ones, this unnamed, unseen angel, hidden from view.

    I was never sure about the existence of supernatural beings. It’s been difficult after growing up believing in the concrete and stubbornly only accepting what I could see. But can certain forces be at work here? Something to remind me to open my eyes further to see what I have not seen until now in the universe? That there’s something truly out there that is beyond my ability to currently see? Her feathers reassure me.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Honestly – 11/09/20

    Poem: Honestly – 11/09/20

    Honestly, where is the truth within
    that I’m trying to seek?
    The impermanence of self-esteem to be
    built up, energetically tremulous
    then monumental but still humbling when it’s finally seen.

    The lacking of needing the approval or
    presence of those I’ve come to depend on,
    because the truth is, for personal growth
    I must move forth, look forward.

    No sense of desertion,
    no,
    but a personal strengthening that allows
    a sense of self to be visible,
    not resisting the ability to think,
    to make a promise to myself that I must trust
    not only what I see,
    but what can flow within the stream of consciousness
    and lead into the flowing sea.

    I don’t know exactly what it is I seek,
    but perhaps a sense of serenity that allows me to
    feel I’m living my dreams,
    a wonderful step forward that there is set to take,
    a promise to myself
    that I am willing to make.

    To be the missing piece of someone’s puzzle
    is to first be strong in yourself,
    and I don’t want to be a pain,
    or depend upon anyone else.

    I want to fulfill my quest,
    I thought love was the only thing I sought,
    I’d cast aside so many other dreams and yet,
    I am back,
    I am here,
    and I will become stronger,
    achieve my dreams,
    I will reach them, there is nothing to fear.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Laura Vinck on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Flourishing – 10/09/20

    Poem: Flourishing – 10/09/20

    My lips drip with compassion,
    the honey drags itself into view,
    my tongue flickers,
    a slight taste of care and hope imbued,
    the lingering residue.

    I am careful with my ability to share
    understanding,
    and self-knowledge,
    the strength of being able to know oneself entirely,
    it can be learned,
    I am learning it, too.

    I was lost,
    so confused I was away from the land that I deemed
    important,
    my home,
    and then a revelation,
    changes,
    the way forward seemed clearer
    and brighter.

    And now here I am,
    detached from the heights of stressful moments
    and I drip with the sanity of the wise,
    because now I am managing
    rather than floundering,
    and by example, I will show you, too,
    how to fly.

    Guide yourself through positivity,
    a gentle act of self-kindness day by day
    will never go astray,
    take the time out for yourself,
    don’t chase others,
    respect yourself,
    before looking for somebody else.

    True compassion for myself drips from my lips,
    my tongue flickers out,
    I taste the honey
    as though I’m a bee,
    and I realise,
    oh, how I realise,
    the path that was laid out for me.

    It is not one of suffering,
    but one in which I will be flourishing.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Amy Shamblen on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Paper Cranes and Airplanes – 09/09/20

    Poem: Paper Cranes and Airplanes – 09/09/20

    She sits there with paper at the ready
    wondering what it is that should keep herself busy,
    the beauty and wonder of creating
    a paper crane
    or a slick air-mobile to cut the air
    so precisely.

    The crane calls to her,
    the idea of it makes her heart flutter with hope
    what is about formations in paper that can provide another being
    with the ability to broaden their emotional scope?

    The airplane wants to be made,
    to splice its way through the stars and clouds,
    perhaps lean upon the luminous moon
    not a man in the moon but a plane full of them
    little figures of existence to be
    positively at hand.

    But she chooses the construction of the crane,
    she knows that each fold will lean and paper attend
    strength imbued
    growing
    courageous

    paper dreams to be made for you.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Kevin Lanceplaine on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Lean Upon Myself – 08/09/20

    Poem: Lean Upon Myself – 08/09/20

    For too long, I’ve leaned,
    I’ve learned to rest my
    weight on others,
    for opinions, advice,
    ears to hear,

    I haven’t trusted my intuition,
    it’s been absent,
    muted, or hidden,
    only my express interest
    for support and confirmation
    could be seen.

    Fierce independence: nil,
    where went that courageous
    go-getter who would
    present to the world, with utter thrill?

    I need to alter my practices,
    build myself as though a fortress,
    strength internally and externally,
    power to stand proud and true.

    I understand to do so
    is to step away from the
    comfort of others,
    build myself independently,
    stronger,
    and to know that in doing so
    it may be difficult,

    but in the end,
    the benefits will outweigh
    the monumental initial differences,
    the discomfort in beginning
    will pale in comparison to the future feelings
    of growth and personal victory.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Andriyko Podilnyk on Unsplash

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  • Poem: The Queen Within my Heart – 07/09/20

    Poem: The Queen Within my Heart – 07/09/20

    The resident of my heart exists softly,
    she doesn’t want to alarm or perturb,
    she simply wants to be present,
    there for the aching and the suffering,
    to be able to offer some consoling,
    some comfort
    during times I’m self-annihilating.

    I cannot help it;
    sometimes I allow things to get to me,
    people, events, expectations overwhelm me,
    and this little vision in my chest,
    with fairy wings and conjured sparkles,
    brightened eyes,
    she soothes me,
    strokes my tender skin,
    calms me each day she’s needed.

    She does not ask for anything in return,
    exists on mere air and my appreciation,
    I am ever so thankful to have her around,
    because, without her,
    my soul might feel such internal damnation.

    I am dramatic, I understand,
    but without her there to guide with her gentle hand
    I might feel lost and alone,
    and angered by her apparent desertion
    from my heart’s throne.

    For she is queen within my beating chest,
    she flits and rules quietly,
    humble,
    my fairy queen,
    now here to counsel and guide me,
    for the right choices,
    the right feelings,
    the right emotions,
    her regulations,
    her subtle rulings.

    It is as though she’s visited and is remaining
    only for me,
    because she knows that I must require her
    to remain,
    she is my light,
    she is my sparkle,
    she consoles and aids and accompanies me.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash

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  • Poem: The Inner Swirl of Frustration – 07/09/20

    Poem: The Inner Swirl of Frustration – 07/09/20

    Frustrations have been beckoning at my door.
    The floating, negative energy swirls full in my belly,
    it calls for something else to prey on,
    catcalling, cruelly,
    some more.

    Am I not enough for its appetite?
    Does this feeling need to engulf every part of me,
    washing me, wading through me, the feeling that I have
    never desired to seek?

    But then, I take a step back.
    I stop pursuing that which is causing me to feel… less,
    useless, even though the feeling, causation, is unintended
    at that.

    I am feeling managed,
    time-poor by choice, that behaviour does not suit me,
    I cannot help how I’m feeling,
    but it’s somewhat unappreciated.

    There may be recoil from my words,
    there may be consequences,
    but I must speak my emotions,
    let them loose,
    I’m no longer crying them aloud,

    I simply want an acknowledgement and changed behaviour,
    that which shows a permanent change of tune.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Ryanniel Masucol on Pexels.com

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