Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: illustration

  • Poem: Swing High, Sweetheart – 06/12/19

    Poem: Swing High, Sweetheart – 06/12/19


     We swing high and swing low,
     exhilarating heights, devastating falls.
     Because what occurs where we 
     play nice and then with fire? 
     Our hearts are entwined, 
     we are lost in rapture. 
      
     Our love may seem innocent and sweet
     like child’s play,
     rising high and dipping low,
     smiling adoration. 
      
     Yet painfully we part from one another,
     the very next day in each other’s company.
     There is little to see but dedication
     from our severed scene.
      
     Rising high then bop,
     falling down and thump,
     it’s like a never-ending cycle 
     where we can’t decide
     who is the propellant and who is the flame? 
      
     I surmise I would be the antagonist,
     it’s just how I am,
     the flame, 
     the one to catch the stirring propellant
     is you, 
     one and the same. 
      
     We can fall apart as many times as we like,
     But in the end, we always conjoin. 

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

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • Poem: Here We Go Round the Merry-Go-Round – 06/12/19

    Poem: Here We Go Round the Merry-Go-Round – 06/12/19


     I picked the best horse,
     he looks to be a bright blue stallion,
     head thrown back
     as though caught in the height of action.
      
     His mane, tufty in appearance yet made of plastic,
     surrounded by two females, pink and purple
     whose eyes aren’t bothering to view him.
      
     My stallion isn’t distracted,
     he is here and he is present,
     in mind and body and soul
     I will ride him on this merry-go-round.
      
     He will always beat the females
     who appear there simply to preen,
     not for any horse other than themselves
     their attentions are for themselves, it seems.
      
     And as I win the race with my stallion in first place
     I know that I could have performed the task myself,
     with my human legs running upon the ride
     as a sprinter’s dream.
     But it’s nice to have something leading the way,
     and persisting in its dreams. 
      
     So, I dismount from the stallion
     pat his mane gently all the way down his spine
     I thank him for his galloping ability
     and wish I could make this merry-go ride mine.
      
     Not because it caused me a thrill,
     not because I wish for eloquence or speed,
     but simply because it allowed me a break from my life,
     where I was in front, a forerunner, a winner,
     without needing to beg to be seen. 
      
     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • Poem: The Whispers to Behold – 04/12/19

    Poem: The Whispers to Behold – 04/12/19

     
    Sometimes I feel as though I’m unfairly judged,
     and though there are positives within me to behold,
     there may be negatives which make me seem like I am
     strange,
     weird,
     too eccentric,
     but truth be told:
     this is who I am, 
     I proudly do not fit into any plastic mould. 
      
     I do not adhere to specific rules and such,
     I make certain to express myself,
     not holding back and following convention,
     there is too much to know and feel in life
     than to be anything other than your radical self.
      
     I shan’t allow overs to bruise me,
     to gloss over my work, my expressions,
     because if they do not appreciate who I was, 
     who I am,
     who I have become, 
      
     I will simply dance away, 
     gaily prance off. 
      
     I could allow their whispers, 
     their disapproval, 
     to sink into my soul,
     to hurt my current moments
     and future tomorrows
     but I prefer to discard those feelings:
     I’d rather be strong, italic, and bold. 
     
    © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • 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.

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • 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.

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • Poem: The Sun is Pleased – 29/11/19

    Poem: The Sun is Pleased – 29/11/19

     The sun beams down upon me:
     he is happy with me today. 
     Sometimes he is disappointed,
     other times he may be sorely dismayed.
      
     But I can tell from his 
     loving warmth which spreads
     upon my complexion 
     that today he is pleased with me,
     and the steps I am undertaking in my life
     to cause positive action. 
      
     I am able to draw upon experiences which, 
     though once painful and caused 
     such internal suffering,
     can now be turned into something positive,
     as though to say,
      
     “Look where I came from, 
     and where I have been,” 
      
     then the comparison of what is fruitful and kind, 
     and what I have become,
     why, I’ve become myself again:
     from previous terrors there is 
     no need to run and hide. 
      
     The illness, the illnesses, 
     the secondary causes, 
     the uncontrollable sense of living,
     it was in no way assured.
      
     I lived flighty, in soaring delusional heights,
     I didn’t know what I was doing,
     only wished for worlds to explore
     and as I crashed and burned many a-time,
     faux pas and mental instability a-plenty,
     I wonder now,
     how it is that I am still here,
     alive,
     writing line upon line. 
      
     But I have healed from the brokenness,
     the fragility,
     the shattered scenes,
     and here I am, 
     living freely and openly breathing.
      
     I am here, 
     and I will take each opportunity as wholly mine,
     there is no need,
     no reasoning,
     to falter again,
     or trip down the line. 
      
     The sun twinkles in the corner of my eye,
     I think I see him wink. 
     I now know for certain that he is inextricably pleased.
      
     © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
    also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • 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.

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • 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.

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • 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.

    Return to All Posts

    Home

  • 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.

    Return to All Posts

    Home