Monday, January 15, 2018

The Female Mind

To understand the female brain.
I've heard this said by many.
I find it rather humorous.
That one would want to dive beyond.

Beyond the intensity that is our mind.
Beyond the thoughts that make us, us.
Beyond what makes us who we are.
What's most hilarious, is this.

The thought that the female mind.
Is some complex math problem.
Needing a PhD to understand.
What any woman could translate.

Yes, I find this all a bit funny.
That one could assume this much.
That by knowing the female mind.
You have unlocked some great mystery.

I'm sorry to state the obvious.
Though I'm sure any woman could tell you.
The female mind is just this.
Nothing special or hard to understand.

Simply solving the problem that is our brain.
Will not help in understanding.
Every female is not the same.
We are not some cookie cutter form.

I cannot solve this great mystery for you.
Simply because, I am not every woman.
I am only me.
And she is only she.

Though we may seem emotional creatures.
We are stronger than some men.
In that we can endure extreme pain.
But love all the same.

Though we may break under pressure.
Like diamonds, we come back harder.
Through pain, hurt and despair we cry.
Our tears will eventually wash away.

Faced with fear, we tremble underneath.
What you see, is a stoic, brave mask.
Not letting those close know.
But forward we march instead.

We smile sometimes when we don't want to.
We laugh although we may hurt.
We move on, when we'd rather stay,
Curl up and cry for a long while.

I cannot speak for every lady.
Because I am only me.
Though similar we may all be.
A woman is more than her looks.

Scoffed by some for simply being.
What some would call "A Typical".
I will tell you this.
You should not judge, before you know.

We are the product of our experiences.
Much the same as you.
Just because I have a female mind.
Doesn't impair my general understanding.

I hope in this you've come away.
With something more than,
Understanding than before.
Even though I cannot speak for most.

 


Thursday, December 28, 2017

To Brave the Cold

Looking out a window at the snow covered ground,
I ponder if it's worth stepping outside today.
How I'd rather grab some coffee and a book,
Snuggle up next to the warm stove.

Responsibility overrules the stalling,
My feet comfortably toasty in slippers.
"Alright" I grumble to myself,
As I sigh dramatically to no one in particular.

I first grab the necessary layers needed,
Five layers to be exact, to risk the cold.
I stand there staring at the extra clothes,
"Why am I doing this?" I think, yet again.

"Right, responsibility" I mumble in halfheartedness.
I quickly put on the first layer, as teeth chatter.
The second layer seems a bit easier,
The third layer is a bit more stiff.

By the time I get the fourth layer on,
I start to understand the Tin Man a bit.
The inability to move my extremities,
I start to question the need for a fifth layer.

Never the less! I surely will need it,
Putting on five layers, the struggle is real.
I am now sweating and questioning my sanity,
Feeling the need to abandon ship, like; NOW!

Oh no, I forgot the hat, and the gloves,
How, am I going to get those on now?
Using yoga poses not yet done before,
As well as teeth and more grumbling.

I now look as if I'm ready for battle,
I dare say I could even stop a bullet.
Walking as though my joints have rusted,
I finally brave the outdoors.

My face feels the immediate burn,
Cold; how cruel you are.
Only fire should feel like burning,
Yet you bite and burn just the same.

As quickly as my body is able,
I do want needs done and tending.
Waddling like a penguin as I think,
"How much longer till spring?"


I make my way back inside to warmth,
Shedding each layer after layer.
They make a nice pile on the floor,
As I sip my coffee and read, ignoring the mess.

Cold; you are better seen than felt.
More beautiful outside, seen through glass.
You are a funny thing indeed,
I think my infatuation of you has finally faded.

Sunday, December 24, 2017

Lost in Thought

Gazing at the deep blue green.
Reflected off iridescent scene.
Imagining the greater sphere.
As light dances over the tier.

I want to make this image,
Bigger than any lineage.
Thoughts are but a stream,
I question if I can dream.

Imagination has now begun,
Building on whats been spun.
Giving life to a mere thought,
Though the images are untaught.

Floating on a tiny thread,
I think it's all gainsaid.
I care not to what most say,
It's not out there on display.

In a trance of my own,
Not one can make clone.
These ideas are but mine,
Not for all thee and thine.

Conjuring up the unseen,
Hallucination my routine.
Staring at this iridescent fantasy,
I throw my cares out to sea.

Stock still she sits in gaze,
One might think in daze.
The inner workings grind,
The delusion of her mind.

For how long she's there,
No one says or will ever dare.
Call out to her in such,
Wake her with a touch.  



Copyright 2017 Lauren Hall ©



Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Time is My Teacher

I've heard said by few,
Let go, it'll come back.
How unfair those words seem,
When they lie to you and me.

Life once already lived,
Is forever etched in past.
No more can the trees,
Bloom once blooms are gone.

Tell me again this fate,
You say we all will share.
This fate seems to escape,
The likes such as I.

Time is a thief and crook,
I've thought over and over again.
Stealing life and love and laughter,
I know I'm just being biased.

Although I am losing now,
The time ought better spent.
I stopped here to share,
These passing memories of mine.

I might have lost to time,
But I still have more left.
How careless of me in past,
To waste on creatures such as;

Vain spectacles of human form,
Seeking naught but frivolous acts.
Self absorbed, Self seeking, Selfish,
Are these creatures of common form.

I refuse to be led in such,
Common display of array.
The insanity some call beauty,
Merely flaunts but a shell.

Time is being spent wastefully,
Cast aside on a whim.
 No thought given to why,
This shell is slowly dimming.

Time is no thief and crook,
Carelessly taking from me.
Time is my quiet teacher,
Telling me to learn;

Learn from whats happened,
Step beyond the history.
I will no longer waste,
The gift time has offered.

Time has offered itself,
To learn from past mistakes.
Reach beyond what has been,
Look forward to what can be.
 


Copyright 2017 Lauren Hall ©

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

A Moment of Tension

Your tone lacks the confidence.
Your eyes mask the fear.
As you stand before me in wait.
As to the final verdict you will be met.

I sense an inner restraint.
Notice the intensity in which you pose.
You can't hide behind your wits.
The inner struggle slowly leaks through.

A fidgeting of the finger.
The flicker of a glance away.
Who are the eyes you seek?
To gather your waning strength.

You deeply inhale security.
Exhale, yet none comes.
Why can't the nerves be stayed?
You close your eyes in wait.

How long can a minute last?
The clicking of the clock.
You inhale yet again.
Leaving out a sigh.

I finally make a decision.
Looking you in the eye.
You glance back warily.
A smile is molded on my face.

The spark of relief is seen reflected.
You sigh as you release the tension.
I can't help chuckling.
At how tense a minute can be.


Copyright 2016 Lauren Hall ©

Friday, August 28, 2015

Waiting for the Dawn

We whisper in the still.
Lay quiet in the dawn.
Watch for the rising.
For what's to come.

Breath held in silence.
Rendered frozen in place.
Wary eyes focus beyond.
Dew seeps through the seams.

Lying in wait for the coming.
The precise moment that will be.
One chance to take the leap.
Jumping into the unknown.

Fight for me, we hear.
Stand by me and see.
The glory that is to come.
Reaching to every corner.

Weary hearts await.
Doubt quickly flickers.
Numbness setting in.
Will we endure the wait.

Panic slowly finds it's way.
To the minds of those.
Losing the willpower.
The faith to stand upright.

Will we die in this.
State of chaos to come.
Surely there's another way.
To save our lives.

Fight for me, we hear.
Stand by me and see.
The glory that is to come.
Reaching to every corner.

The doubts starts to dissipate.
Like wisps through fog.
Our feet are now wet.
Though our hearts renewed.

Strength is on our side.
Faith stronger then fear.
Peace rests upon the weary.
Leaving no room for hate.

The trumpet is heard.
We pick up arms prepared.
To fight the good fight.
Along side our heavenly father.



Copyright 2015 Lauren Hall ©




Saturday, May 16, 2015

In Loving Memory

My precious horse Bud passed away 3 years ago from this summer.