Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: art

  • Prose Poetry: Your Rainbow Warrior – 01/12/19

    Prose Poetry: Your Rainbow Warrior – 01/12/19

    As a rainbow warrior, I take it upon myself to bring light into the world. I bear my brightness against the darkness within ongoing roads and winding fields. I take on the enemies within darkened dreams that tiptoe lovingly into darkly hued painterly scenes. I shine a kaleidoscope of colours into avenues and alleyways that promise naught but destruction and demise, and allow the travellers to wind down these paths with beauty and stars in their eyes.

    No longer are they in hues of grayscale – black and white, a parched under-colouring of darkness and barely-pure light, instead they are bathed in pinks and blues, and greens and yellows, oranges, purples. Oh, what delight! Suddenly they feel alive, the lethargy which dripped and dragged from their souls now slides cleanly away, allowing them to breathe. And as their rainbow warrior who has taken it upon myself to save their lives from inaction, I know that even though they cannot see me, they are grateful for my intervention.

    Because who wants to live in greyscale, a wishy-washy world of white and grey and black? Some might find this studious, perfect, but for myself I would ache if the colours were away. They brighten my mind, cause my smile, lift my spirit always, as I am the colourful child of this party, please allow me to be with you, and aid your brightening souls each day.    

    © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: A Home Away From Home – 30/11/19

    Poem: A Home Away From Home – 30/11/19


     A home away from home,
     where we can dare to dream,
     we carry our luggage, 
     our memories with us,
     a plethora of experiences. 
      
     A building in which we house 
     our deepest darkest scenes,
     and lightness in all mannerisms, 
     and some things perfectly in between.
      
     With our eyes peering curiously,
     and smiles widening on our faces all the while,
     we can scan through our tales and winding spells
     in a style of carefulness or happiness which abounds. 
      
     Because when quietly recalling our memories,
     with friends or family, or even just little old me, 
     we can feel joyous and buoyant 
     and so self-assured
     that everything is effervescent 
     in all their scenes. 
      
     We can relive, 
     we can feel, 
     we can dance inside,
     abound in delight all day,
     because these memories we have
     catalogued and stored 
     in our house of homes
     are where we enlist our hearts
     as our emphatic and empathic zones always.  

     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: The Cat Who Dared To Dream – 28/11/19

    Poem: The Cat Who Dared To Dream – 28/11/19


     Georgette was a gracious house cat, 
     with the prettiest smile in her building.

     She was well known for 
     brightening other animals’ and people’s days,
     but inside she was always dreaming. 
      
     She wanted to be as purposeful and powerful as a lion, 
     with the courage and the heart and strength
     to face challenges with the best of all of them. 
      
     But inside she felt too meek, 
     too nice to realise that her dreams 
     could be a reality, not a only potential possibility.
      
     Because, what did it really take to be this lion 
     of which she wished to be seen as?
     Loyalty, courage, qualities of being powerful,
     personal resilience, 
     perhaps these were already within her, 
     not awaiting in store? 
      
     Perhaps she was already a lion inside,
     a strong, roaring beast who ruled her world 
     with benevolence, sweetness and kindness, 
     why, she was like this presently,
     in becoming a lion, maybe she was already there!
      
     Georgette the house cat no longer needed to 
     introvert and dream all day,
     because of her dream
     she’d achieved it,
     She was already presently there. 
      
     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: Awakening – 27/11/19

    Poem: Awakening – 27/11/19

     The loneliness is incredible,
     with my heart an empty vessel,
     who to confide in?
     who to reach for?
     When I ache inside,
     wishing, wishing for more.
      
     To be understood,
     not unfairly judged,
     acknowledged,
     not cast aside or looked upon with a negative view.
     It’s as simple as realising sometimes, 
     an understanding embrace with no words is enough.
      
     My woven creations may be catastrophes 
     to some,
     but for others
     perhaps they are their lingering answers.
      
     Certain events which should not be shared,
     is this reality a truth?
     Why should I be ashamed to speak of
     my former agonising, 
     my anguishing pains,
     or what I went through behind the scenes,
     behind those doors,
     and beneath those evil sockets?
      
     Are my experiences too triggering,
     should I be silenced?
     Should I not dare to speak?
     But nonsense!
     I will utter my truths and even in the silences
     I will allow the listener to truly feel.
      
     Because after over a decade of being 
     what the world could only call a despicable mess,
     I can call myself a survivor. 
      
     Mentally speaking, I’ve reached that glorious healthy plateau,
     And if I want them to, I could allow 
     deliciously proud tears to run down my cheeks,
     my hiccoughing sobs to carry others 
     to my secretive room, 
     my precious pride of place.
      
     For the time for mourning what has been acquired 
     or what has been lost has long passed,
     I am free, at least less encumbered,
     and I now need to be brave and not hold anyone’s hand,
     because I will make it, 
     and as for this loneliness, this too, shall pass. 
      
     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. all rights reserved.

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  • Poem: The Apparent Angel Sent to Me – 23/11/19

    Poem: The Apparent Angel Sent to Me – 23/11/19

    Ah, I remember you.

    With your curly ringlets, angelic darkened hair, your deep pooled eyes which I fell into, how I stopped and stared. You were there waiting for me, so it seemed, sitting outside the cafe, wearing special gemstone rings – onyx, and a brown sparkly stone for good fortune – which at the time greatly appealed to me. Gemstones, their meanings and usages were important back then to me. During times of mental illness, I clung to anything that might or could heal me.

    I knew inherently that we were meant to meet, it was as though you were a traveller coming upon my grounds, to search me out, to feel my heart pound. Or was there another intent?

    You humoured me as I babbled about your gemstones, you listened somewhat attentively to my poems, but it was at this moment I felt a personal affront, because you uttered words of quiet insult. “Is that it?” you said to me. Like my work, my piece, was not enough in itself. Still, there I remained, lapping up the company, the invalidating attentions that this apparent-angel was providing. Looks can be deceiving.

    Then there came the time to leave, we both instinctively stood at the same time. We automatically shook hands, as though I’d made a deal with the devil, rather than with something of pureness, like an angel with his surrounding light. “See you soon,” we both said ominously, as if a warning, a premonition for something frightening.

    But the truth of the matter is, I never saw this angel again. I suspect he had been sent for a purpose, but I won’t go any further into this. Allow me to say though, that I was likely not viewed as a potential risk to whomever was behind the assessment. The puppet master behind the scenes.

    © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: Fruit and Veg – 22/11/19

    Poem: Fruit and Veg – 22/11/19

     A charming little scene,
     a still life in my mind,
     an aubergine, 
     an orange,
     a laughing apple with squinting eyes.
      
     The contended little aubergine 
     is centred in our sight,
     while the mischievous orange 
     directly to the side
     seems to know something,
     we can tell this
     from his grin and laughingly delighted eyes.
      
     And what of this delicious apple, 
     so crunchy and so crisp? 
     Don’t dive into him with your gnashing teeth
     because there will be something precious in your midst!
      
     All three work together
     in the still frame in my mind,
     an entertaining trio, 
     of fructose and vitamins,
     a feast for my hungry eyes.
      
     Their colours burst,
     They flourish before me,
     can you appreciate them too?
     My clever trio of minds-eye fruit and veg,
     sent directly from my mind, 
     From me to a hungering you.
     
     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: Spiky Ducky – 21/11/19

    Poem: Spiky Ducky – 21/11/19

     This hybrid drake liked to surf the seas, 
     in the foam he would play and turn in 
     whichever way he pleased.
      
     But he was serious in his intent
     of searching for a mate,
     a lovely lady friend to
     forever speak with,
     confide in,
     experience with,
     and commiserate. 
      
     But where would he find her?
     The journey was so long,
     and he had passed many other duckies 
     but never the right one.
      
     He wished for the perfect moment 
     when he and her would lock their eyes
     and a flush would come about him
     and his beak would tremble just so,
     that he wouldn’t be able to even speak
     let alone if he could even try.
      
     So, he continued searching high and low 
     did our dear little drake,
     he passed a shroud of spiky fantasies 
     but they were not for him.
      
     He wanted a hen wholesome
     and certainly down to earth
     someone whom he could walk
     alongside with during life
     not a hen whom he would need to 
     give a wide berth.
      
     Instructions, morals, 
     truths and more,
     he knew that the perfect hen 
     was out there
     just for him,
     the surprise was in store.
      
     All he had to do was wait and continue to look,
     the pastime had become a fervent mission
     and the energy to perform this task 
     was now monumental. 
      
     But it was without any surprise that he came upon 
     the perfect one, 
     she was gorgeous, with spikes just like his,
     sitting upon a glassy pond’s surface,
     a reflective world, 
     but of his presence she seemed unaffected all at once. 
      
     He beseeched her with a honk, 
     a frantic flapping of wings to prove his worth, 
     but she still sat there, 
     eyes untoward, 
     facing on the surrounding grounds. 
      
     He continued to honk and flap just to please
     but this hardened ducky hen 
     would not be appeased. 
     
     With sadness he left the scene, 
     feeling utterly bereft, 
     thinking of what else he could have done
     to heighten and made positive that scene.
      
     A formal undertaking, 
     internal sentiments showing,
     it seemed there was little more he  
     could have performed 
     in that moment they had met. 
      
     With a sudden whoosh from behind him, 
     a being rushed right past him, 
     plonked themselves before his eyes,
     it was the unaffected Ducky Hen!
     With a smile, she began to peck-peck him 
     with kisses and lovingly preen him.
      
     She had been playing a little game
     in those moments when she appeared to not care,
     of his presence she was now so pleased,
     and of this the drake was now happily aware. 
      
     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: Three Pupils in a Pod – 20/11/19

    Poem: Three Pupils in a Pod – 20/11/19

     Three pupils in a pod,
     one, two, three, 
     thump!
      
     Carefully observing,
     wondering where they’re going,
     travels in life, 
     so far yonder,
     if not careful they’ll find
     much peril before them. 
      
     These wary, cautious eyes,
     have seen more than they can stand,
     they have witnessed atrocious sufferings,
     and several sleights of hand.
      
     Because who better to record
     than a triplet set of eyes?
     To silently catalogue and observe
     but with no lips to tell the truth,
     to dispel the convolutions from
     certain criminals’ lies. 
      
     All they can do is watch,
     they cannot even shift or move,
     only blinking helplessly,
     clearing their vision,
     making their lenses lubricated
     to continue in their method of being 
     utterly silent witnesses. 
      
     But what use are eyes 
     when without a mouth 
     they cannot share? 
     Only storing their visions
     without a sense of concern
     let alone ample or adequate care.
      
     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: My Peasant Fairy Godmother – 18/11/19

    Poem: My Peasant Fairy Godmother – 18/11/19

     My peasant fairy godmother,
     so round and delicate and wise,
     an orb and an orb unto herself,
     she flies to me through the skies.
      
     To provide me assistance,
     to provide me with hope
     she waves her hands and magically 
     provides me with her delicate scope
      
     of wisdom and inner strength
     of power and enhanced desire
     she touches my nose with her glistening wand
     and I cry out:
     “I can finally leave home!”
     I possess the power. 
      
     Because my desire, my mission,
     is to not leave to meet my prince,
     my desire is to be self-sufficient, 
     to create a world, a home for myself,
     among the whistling trees,
     beneath the glistening stars,
     underneath the warming moon
     which smiles upon me with ease.
      
     Now I need not run from my duties,
     of attending to many others,
     of being on my hands and knees,
     cleaning up after my sisters.
      
     I now know I have the power to 
     walk away from the muck,
     it is not my responsibility,
     I can now work Life out on my own,
     according to my own internal clock. 
      
     It is brave of me to do away
     with the burdening system that kept me away
     from obtaining a sense of freedom
     where I was always downtrodden.
      
     In my new rich silk and satin blue gown
     I will run from the lot of them,
     My life is now my own.
      
     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Poetry: The Farthest Light Away – 14/11/19

    Poetry: The Farthest Light Away – 14/11/19

    She glows from within. Her thoughtful, ponderous eyes focus on that which is unfocused, the worldly others farther away, further, further, but of the complexities they hold, she projects them from her sense of being, internally of them she is freeing.

    Her connection with the light may not make any sense to others, those observers, those outsiders, but she does not need to prove, nor feel a need to speak of her faith in the light above. She is guided by the unfocused worldly others, dragged forth, her eyes grasping, caressing their views, as she allows them to rest within her being, to sink gently inside.

    To wholly accept the notion of something that cannot be entirely shown but can be existentially felt either shows a brave blind trust or something special entrusted to us. Because our viewing of her faith, so fair and knowledgeable without having a presence behind it at all is something of great circumstance, this day, this night, never will her faith fall.

    She trusts the light, the beings within her adoring eyes, the scene before her that no one, nothing, can take away from. She is special in her acceptance, the light means more to her than to those who nay-say about her beliefs, and incomplete to complete has her life become because of her ability to dare to dream and believe.

    © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.   

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