Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: dystopia

  • Poem: Dead Stares – 18/12/19

    Poem: Dead Stares – 18/12/19

    Instagram: @alicewellart 
     Dead eyes stare beyond the fronds,
 dead dead dead.
 Their pupils are like empty saucers,
 entrances into another 
 vacuous underworld. 
  
 Knock knock on their doors,
 your fist will rap,
 triple tap, 
 tap, tap, 
 the entrances somehow welcome us,
 they gather our motivations somehow.
  
 Hear the lashes rustling as 
 eyelids mechanically blink,
 lubricating their glassy stares 
 as the mood sinks
 and sinks.
  
 We are afforded a means into their world
 assume nothing of their histories,
 their recorded images will show;
 they will detail.
  
 Knock knock blink blink,
 knock blink blink, 
 how many combinations can we make
 before the crux of the problem 
 reveals itself?
 The need to open our own eyes to 
 self-contemplation?
  
 I’ll observe them through the fronds
 as they carelessly observe me,
 obfuscate the glass though
 I’ll live with their means to 
 mechanically dream.
  
 They are unfeeling,
 they are anything but all knowing,
 they are everything and anything 
 they wish to be,
 but they will never penetrate 
 the outer shell which encompasses 
 all that is me.
  
 I am protected by my own glassiness,
 perils shall not befall me.
  
 © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: Our Broken World – 21/09/19

    Poem: Our Broken World – 21/09/19

     She came from afar,
     many generations ahead, 
     many light years away.
      
     Her eyes saddened beyond belief,
     because of what she was sent to witness,
     but couldn’t, didn’t have the ability to save.
      
     She was a wandering explorer of the galaxy,
     sent to worlds of dystopian views,
      
     Burning balls of gas,
     reigning down with future fire,
     as the worlds exploded with their blooming ire.
      
     And it had come time for her to visit our world,
     we were raping the land and pillaging it,
     taking advantage and control, 
      
     Without a sense of worldly adherence,
     to the generous earth that had had enough,
     Of our selfish methods to use its resources,
     without a sense of future responsibility to be known.  
      
     This solemn being inspected the result of 
     our greedy hands,
     Observed the damage we’d permitted to occur on our giving land,
     our method of spreading our uncaring concern;
     a human-specific disease.
     
     She shook with dismay at the town raining down with black snowflakes,
     at the Amazon forests being burnt like witches at the stake.
      
     At our water, droughts coming and remaining rather than going,
     soon a lack of fresh drinking water, 
     A sin for our survival, 
     a definite detriment to our health ongoing.
      
     This saddened explorer couldn’t take anymore,
     couldn’t view for much longer,
     She felt the heat rising on the worldly barometer.
      
     How could it have to come to this?
     she wondered helplessly to herself.
      
     This world, this turning planet, 
     could have survived for many more decades,
     Had the humans taken care, 
     not just thought for and about themselves. 
      
     Yet now they are presented, 
     with the real possibility of decimation,
     a ball of burning gaseous mass of obliteration,
      
     Becoming inundated with despair and dismay,
     they’ll have to work mighty hard to make their land last. 
      
     And with that she flitted away many lifetimes, 
     to report on the health of the world,
     Unfortunately for some, 
     the bleak vision may not be able to be overcome.   

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


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