Tag: writing

  • Prose Poetry/Audio: contemplation — gusting down to earth – 04/12/21

    Prose Poetry/Audio: contemplation — gusting down to earth – 04/12/21

    I scatter the ashes from dawn to dusk, breathe the fire raging within, overtaking much of my ire, and I glance all around, gather myself as I rooooaaaar that sound; I am calling, calling for something – I wait for an approach, ears pricked delicately for any tiny sounds. Then, bouncing and bounding are some terrible two, a pair of angry feline-like beings whom will not cease their stares, their venomous fangs they gnash and gnash my way… punishment? Although what ills have I performed? That’s not for me to say. I fend off the creatures, with their wild, wild stares and ferocious, swiping claws until they realise, I can well-word myself out of any situation, at least the concept is correct – with a peeling away, they retract with their intent so flawed.  

    In fact, I am as innocent as some wet leaf drifting down to Earth: heavy, soggy, but with a tiny bit of mirth expressed from I as I observe the less-than-buoyant thing, like him, my heart is heavy, but unlike him, I will make it, there is that certain journey. This leaf and I have something additional in common: we carry a heaviness and knowing that there once was no chance for ascension – or so it felt –  because I gave into predilections, and that pathway I took, its consequences mattered not, for I was having fun, I would claim with bold insistence.

    The rule books, out the window, there was no decorum to see, no adherence, no willingness to be righteous, less private, my business available to feel, view, breathe, until now I guuuust myself in the buoyancy of available air… Soggy, heavy? No! Nein, nein, nein, I will not recommence that fate, save that eventuation for someone else more worthy for Destiny’s cruel fate.

    Over time, I have corrected my flight, my pathway, my right to determine my life with grace, honour, and might, I reversed the karma, strapped on, then off, certain armour, and now, free as an angel, I reserve the ability to side-swipe whomever with stars, stars, stars, irrevocable and blinding internal glamour. It didn’t come easy, this transformation of the self, it took dedication and hard work, but something that’s worth its weight in gold, more, in fact than this it is worth. It’s a life I live only once, and self-improvement was something I had to work on, I’m proud that I could decide, with the help, the assistance, support of many close others, I now know how to live, what to do, I am bursting with quiet pride.
    (03/12/21)   
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

    Previous Post: forged perfection: 02/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: forged perfection – 03/12/21

    Poem: forged perfection – 03/12/21

    contemplation realisation
    as I understand how to bow to true sensation
    annihilation of the frantic degeneration
    that I stave off,
    these errors that lifestyle,
    away with that nihilism.

    I wander the garden of my mind
    releasing notions that I no longer need
    to find
    the patterns of daisies and cloying pansies
    fit for regeneration between my two eyes
    mind
    soul
    me.

    I know that I must carry on without yearning
    I will someday somehow somewhere find that calling
    have I not found it yet
    is my heart not dancing
    these words
    this poetry
    this prose
    what more can I continue to be asking?

    my passion in lessons
    in moving forward
    in growth patterns
    there’s nothing left but progress
    action-reaction-traction
    enabling myself to be
    to be to be my own forged
    perfection,
    a knowledge
    self-understanding,
    deep breath in,
    pure contemplation.
    (02/12/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. (Words and artwork)

    Previous Post: what do you say? – 02/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
    Instagram @laurenm.hancock

  • Poem: what do you say? – 02/12/21

    Poem: what do you say? – 02/12/21

    what should I do, per se,
    when you smile at me
    and my stomach turns flips fills with butterflies
    for days
    in a haze I am saved from the embarrassment
    of utter utter bashfulness
    your warmth makes me grow with intent
    braver by the moment
    and I ask how was your day
    and what did you do as you laid quietly contemplating
    thoughts come what may?

    did my image cross your mind
    pass in your thoughts
    taut and taught the memories we have wrought
    but what matters most is not that moment
    when our lips touched in my mind
    in my heart you will stay
    contemplate me, my presence in your life
    allow me to stayyy…

    prisms of understanding
    growth factor sighing
    bright eyes reflecting
    and amazing amazing
    could we be if you would allow me to be
    me,
    with you, in your world,
    what do you say?
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    (01/12/21)
    Photo by Marek Studzinski on Unsplas

    Previous Post: transparent duration – 01/12/21
    Previous Post: Spoken Word/Poem: gusty aura – 01/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: transparent duration – 01/12/21

    Poem: transparent duration – 01/12/21

    as time passes
    the seconds allow me to
    comprehend
    to ascertain
    to understand

    that duration is really just a
    dependent notion
    when one is hoping for some form
    of deep contemplation

    analyse the silences
    the breaths unmade
    the sleeves of unspoken words
    heard felt seen

    the trailing of ellipsis
    what is this business
    of wondering
    waiting
    delving into my open chasm
    of ticking hands, unwanted and unfree?

    tirades not expelled
    why, there is no form in this,
    shapeshifters, need to delve,
    a prism of understanding
    no need to be handed the key
    and warranting the notion
    that sadness is a well
    a swirling potion
    a knowing
    all-knowing
    sins wrought,
    I didn’t commit any of them

    just a misunderstanding
    discomfort
    but to speak further would trump
    the lot of them.

    should one censor choice words
    when being themselves
    speaking freely
    no motives in place
    only transparency…
    (30/11/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

    Previous Post: Spoken Word/Poem: gusty aura – 01/12/21
    Previous Post: vivid radiance – 30/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Spoken Word/Poem: gusty aura – 01/12/21

    Spoken Word/Poem: gusty aura – 01/12/21

    ambiguous this breath I take
    what does it mean
    to my whole, how does it relate?
    does this sustenance
    this air I take
    matter in any means of entirety
    do I exist for a form of fate?
    wonder not into the desert of human traits, deep existence
    wander in the sand dunes
    heated footsteps
    this breath I take
    expired and
    spent.

    there may be many heaves to come
    or several to falter as I fall
    my ailing heart perhaps
    suffers quietly
    I need not, want to tell,
    for to acknowledge the damage that
    I may have already done
    performed performed unwind this
    travesty
    self-abuse this is not a clever tale

    forthcoming do I see this
    will it fit my puzzle pieces
    as I dare to rearrange to dream
    to find that final picture without suffering
    to exist not exist but live and breathe
    with sights song
    energy free
     
    no more stares
    who cares for their thoughts
    the ignorant with their opinions whom
    do not truly know me
    only the visual

    they should be taught
    not to judge on appearances
    have I not worked so very hard
    on annihilation of that form
    that former suffering
    now I live for me
    to be
    I may have taken it a wee bit far
    but at least my efforts are here
    billowing like a gusty aura
    all about me.
    (30/11/21)

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

    Previous Post: vivid radiance – 30/11/21

    lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: vivid radiance – 30/11/21

    Poem: vivid radiance – 30/11/21

    look at this breath
    this baby’s hum and warmth
    permeating the surface of peonies on show
    i cannot care any more than I already do
    for this exquisite view
    simplicity
    between hearts wrought,
    tapestries bursting, sewn full.

    my soul speaks of the injustice
    of being made to wait so many years
    but here I am
    willing, able, ready,
    I live my life, in full,
    with another I need not yearn
    nor contemplate
    for if the right being
    soul
    spirit
    soars floats,
    temporarily, ephemeral, my way
    I’ll be gracious and kind and understanding,
    welcome them solemnly to further stay.

    a flitting of gossamer I spot at the corner
    of my harking perceptive eyes
    the signs of sprites waiting to celebrate
    a meeting set to occur with ease?

    I can only hope
    but carry on, carry on,
    there is no need for stomach to yearn nor churn
    seasonally thoughts will gather
    and perhaps an encounter, chanced, will please, occur.

    for now though
    full am I within for the righteous will appear
    or vanish whenever they want to surprise or delight me,
    there is little right in holding expectations
    to beings who live so free,
    brandishing hope and understanding
    time precious time
    will help me
    allow me,
    willingly to see.
    (30/11/21)   
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Zulmaury Saavedra on Unsplash

    Previous Post: Spoken Word Collaboration by Navin and Lauren – implore – 29/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Spoken Word and Poem: over – 28/11/21

    Spoken Word and Poem: over – 28/11/21

    excited parallel universe
    where our motives selfishly meant
    were never truly met
    but in our beings we felt
    those irrevocable dents start to mend
    or were they beginning to spread?
    hard to decipher, the sensations felt

    young crushes soft passions
    gentle touches
    flushed complexions
    rough grabs forced giggles
    becoming something I didn’t want to acknowledge
    to please to be to allow him to feel to see “me” being
    right for him

    always that alteration for them
    never for me
    projection
    motivations incorrect
    feelings, felt
    triumph
    theirs, mine?
    I’m not certain
    though during the time,
    a certain type of divine victory —
    in that moment, they, he, whomever,
    were mine.

    the chameleon-like transformation,
    the desire rising and gaining
    and now
    the self-annihilation:
    who am I really
    when I’m being something falsified for another?

    playing these games all well and good
    but for some time
    losing sight of my inner flowers
    blossoms growing stagnant
    fragrance now putrid and pungent.
    for the scent of desperation and
    conformed coercion
    was, well,
    so wrong.

    and now I’m older
    I won’t allow this again for myself I will rise from these rubbish requests
    these wanton blatant desires
    specific request, the audacity,
    I cannot get over,
    change yourself?
    I didn’t request any amendments for you,
    because I’m not rude in that manner.

    This, whatever it was, I am over.
    (28/11/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. (Artwork, recording, and words)

    Previous Post: Wisdom Gleaned – 28/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Wisdom Gleaned (09/10/21) – 28/11/21

    Poem: Wisdom Gleaned (09/10/21) – 28/11/21

    Author’s note:
    Sometimes I like to look back at my drafts and see what was on my mind months prior, and how I constructed these realities into rhymes and words to soothe myself, express anger, frustration, upsets, or some such. This piece I feel still has some of these truths ringing in my current reality. Hence, I thought I would share it with you here today.

    ***
    Unusual,
    preposterous be these claims
    that I am not worrying about anything
    that should make me feel ashamed,
    prisms of brightness flow,
    spark within me,
    as I recall these times
    when my breath caught
    in my chest:
    of love, they made me
    believe.

    But these are lost,
    fallen from grasp,
    and memory is phasing,
    walls erected,
    happiness failing?

    How can it be,
    but I am more satisfied
    alone,
    in my own company?
    My own lair,
    my very own home.

    Tirades now gone,
    absent,
    I can breathe,
    I don’t have to deal
    with issues that
    seemingly are only
    surrounding me
    and what I could and
    cannot provide,
    why, I’ve no further time to
    unravel that,

    I cannot give what
    I can’t,
    I don’t want to
    fall again into a rut,
    nor hastily fall and slide.

    Some may think it
    selfish to look out
    for myself but why,
    at the detriment of
    myself would I allow
    my joy to be dragged down?

    I cannot make anyone happy
    if it’s myself I need to provide,
    happiness determined solely
    through another?
    I can’t be along for
    that ride.

    Better yet to travel
    on my own,
    scenic, wisdom procured,
    certainly homegrown,
    I will continue
    and perhaps I’ll find
    something right,
    if not, no matter,
    because it’s my life,
    and I’ll decide,
    decide what I’ll provide,
    on my terms it’ll be,
    because this is my journey,
    why shouldn’t I be
    satisfied with my choices?

    For me, they must be right.
    I hope one day this will
    be seen.
    (09/10/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Image source: Photo by Alesia Kozik on Pexels.com

    Previous Post: the owls – 27/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Previous Post: the owls – 27/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: the owls – 27/11/21

    Poem: the owls – 27/11/21

    the owls, the owls
    they tiptoe along the wire
    sharing songs and stories,
    eons of lifetimes together
    fervent hoots and warbles
    altogether
    impressive wingspans as they envelop
    the biting morning air together

    hush down little prey
    scatter as you may
    all words, no prey, no victims
    but treated with such tenderness
    owls caress the vowels and syllables
    without damnation
    with much great proof
    of ultimate, irreverent
    atypical swayyy
    through and through

    plucked from the heavens
    or beneath their soaring
    impressive is as is impressive treatment sees
    will and hopes proving
    the chase is uplifting

    the owls hoot as they see fit
    sharing language,
    skills
    sharing to be free free free
    in it.

    the owls, can’t you see,
    are here, once hushed,
    now present and completely
    doing as they believe, trust,
    to share their magic
    their wide saucer-filled eyes
    echoed with great substance
    reflections, mirrors,
    no lies.
    (27/11/21)

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Michael Hoyt on Unsplash

    Previous Post: jawbreaker – 26/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: golden times – 24/11/21

    Poem: golden times – 24/11/21

    it feels like gold
    it shines it glimmers
    it never grows old
    these times that grow within my soul
    cause me to smile
    widely
    from ear to ear.

    lips plumped and pouted I contemplate
    what has come to pass with extraneous time
    for these golden dreams cause such brightness
    and internal strength
    tenacity helped me make it through the
    disastrous zones
    the struggles
    the moans the whines
    the aching
    the pining
    and now here I am
    grinning giggling
    for I’ve achieved what I sought
    and though it took certain time
    I have arrived…
    finally.
     
    no more talk of
    being on the verge
    on the precipice of achieving
    I’ve reached the rise
    and now I soar with it
    gracious understanding and gratitude
    and in this world,
    all the spare time time time.
    (24/11/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

    Previous Post: true fool – 24/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose