Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: escape

  • Poem: Escape to a Land of Slumber – 31/08/20

    Poem: Escape to a Land of Slumber – 31/08/20

    I escape into a land of slumber,
where I softly achieve my goal,
to forget and feel nothing,
I am enveloped by reaching fingertips of
diamonds and solid gold.
 
They caress me with a richness
I’ve never known,
toy with me,
play with me,
these dancing hands I feel not,
though within them, I am at home.
 
I am deep in rest,
my back the fingers stroke,
and they play with my hair,
this escape is full of my hope,
because while I’m away in mind,
I am here and now,
though some would say my consciousness is not.
 
I relish these afternoon escapes,
the siestas which take me away
to a feeling of nothingness,
of wanted emptiness,
nothing here is awry,
nothing is astray.
 
And close to waking I experience
the most amazing thing,
I rouse slowly and recollect
remnants of a dream,
someone perhaps who I have missed
without realising?
Or perhaps I simply am recalling them fondly.
 
I rarely remember my dreams,
and when I do,
the fragment slips from memory,
perhaps the dream was a message,
or something else –
I nod knowingly –
maybe revelations will unfold naturally.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

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  • Poem: Escape Room – 28/05/20

    Poem: Escape Room – 28/05/20

    Fingertips against the wall,
pressing, gouging,
wanting to get through,
but no way out.
 
I am aghast at this imprisonment –
four walls slowly caving in.
Like impending doom,
they inch in all around,
closer and closer,
it’s growing difficult to breathe.
 
Why this state of insanity?
Am I deserving of its encroachment?
My mental state,
my lack of solid coping mechanisms,
Why, how to survive,
this condition, this condition?
 
The walls now turn to nausea,
the sicker I become,
apprehensive glances of my own,
the walls’ will be done.
 
And now they smile,
they cackle,
they absorb my light –
away!
Slumped in a lonesome corner,
left quietly to decay.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

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  • Poem: Time’s Ticking – 05/11/19

    Poem: Time’s Ticking – 05/11/19

     Time’s ticking, my friend,
     where are you required most?
     Time’s ticking; let’s go,
     down the rabbit hole, 
     and around the bend. 
      
     Into the dark deep labyrinth 
     where we will fall among objects that have 
     quite spontaneously reappeared,
     in the darkness we will swim 
     as we twist and turn around 
     again and again.
      
     Where will this cavity take us?
     Will it lead us into truth
     and wisdom:
     a land of beautiful views?
      
     Or a world of impunctuality,  
     anger and hierarchy,
     where we are beneath every 
     visible and given sets of feet?
     Precious two by twos.
      
     Will we find a world of characters?
     Amusing, learned, wise and tough?
     Humorous and of Imagination’s making?
     Or will we simply fall helplessly into a pile 
     of awaiting dust?
      
     With this wise rabbit who always seems to be
     quite behind 
     the time,
     a pacifist but proactive also,
     if we follow him we’ll end up at the right place,
     at the right time,
     in the correct frame of mind.
      
     Because his watch is incorrectly set
     and he has performed this deliberately
     to make his appearance correct and just so,
     into the rabbit hole we will fall and fall
     and forever in imagination we will delve.

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

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