Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: poem

  • Poem: Mellow Yellow Lemon – 27/09/19

    Poem: Mellow Yellow Lemon – 27/09/19

     A mellow yellow lemon liked to watch their faces as they ate.
     His juice made their eyes wince and squeeze,
     how mighty pleased this made him feel.
      
     Because he enjoyed absorbing other beings’ emotions,
     taking the negatives away that they felt,
     and altering them into something fabulous
     which he could later use for himself.
      
     For example, there was a girl sobbing with great sorrow,
     at the loss of her baby teddy bear which from a friend she’d been allowed to borrow,
     the mellow yellow lemon winked at her and absorbed her pained emotion;
     suddenly her head was wiped of any sense of feeling that hadn’t needed to be awoken.
      
     He transformed her sorrow into something great!
     A state of trance, a fabulous world of emotion that could be taken later 
     to further complicate —
     
    a mess within the ears 
     a cacophony of sound
     the ultimate in lucid dreaming 
     this was what the mellow yellow lemon was all about.
      
     In his altered state of being, 
     the lemon danced himself into a frenzy,
     so much so he removed part of his peeling,
     zesting himself into an utter state of heightened feeling.
      
     He was made useful now for others,
     leaving his zesty pieces behind,
     a chef nearby picked up each piece,
     added it to his cheesecake recipe.
      
     And wasn’t the world glad that not only could he take 
     but could also give back,
     the mellow yellow lemon
     always there to alter the human’s negative feelings and facts. 
      
     So ends the tale
     of the lemon who could change the world,
     with a little zest here, 
     a little squeeze there,
     he could make others smile as he absorbed from them what he could change 
     and what he could share with them from himself.

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


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  • Monochrome: A Poem – 26//09/19

    Monochrome: A Poem – 26//09/19

     Imagine:
     Life as we knew it but in monochrome
     the moody film noir of everyday monotony 
     seeping grungy gunmetal greys into our retinas
      
     Sleek stallions on a merry-go-round with eyes bulging
     reflecting the wild freedom of living under a cape of black and white 
     anonymity.
      
     Situations take on a dramatic hue
     the chaser, the chased, 
     through damp dingy dimly lit alleyways
     where there reveals a girl resting on her stomach and chest
     whiling away her monochromatic days.
      
     With glances so beguiling
     inviting to those who wish for nothing more than 
     precious time with her
     her histrionic hair-brained schemes in shadowy scenes
     could blow your mind away
     break you into two.
      
     Although she will not present
     will not allow the lure to become
     for her method of amusement in this monochromatic world
     has only a small intent and then a little some
      
     To amuse herself
     to play in the growing gloom
     to pass away the time until hopefully
     the sun will rise against the hollow faced pitted white moon.
      
     To return the world into one of colour and life,
     nothing chased, nothing desired,
     nothing overly and willfully needing to be satisfied. 
      
     Where an explosion of rays will cast over the 
     previously dismal days,
     and relinquish all from monotony and return us to 
     brightness and joviality.

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


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  • Poem: The Smile – 25/09/19

    Poem: The Smile – 25/09/19

     The Smile causes such greatness of cheer
     wherever he happens to travel or whatever he happens to go near.
      
    His charismatic image bears much bubbling mirth and joy 
    dispels any negativity or unwarranted misery 
    which others may know of 
    but for some reason cannot erase away -
    helplessly they’d cry, "Why?"
      
     One look upon his smiling face
     his full beaming grin
     would cause a person deep shivers of delight 
     a warmth of emotion growing from within.
      
     For, The Smile was created and born with an intent
     to make pain and sadness wiped away
     away it would be sent
      
     An encounter with The Smile could only result in a 
     permanent lift in mood 
     in one’s saddened state of affairs which would only leave 
     that individual’s mood rectified
     it would be as though they were dancing pleased upon the moon.
      
     The knowledge that such a being as The Smile exists
     to cheer up our world often fraught with misery
     makes me feel truly thankful and utterly blessed
     that The Smile is here to rectify our occasional negative moods and process.

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


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  • Poem: “The Angular Monstrosity” – 24/09/19

    Poem: “The Angular Monstrosity” – 24/09/19

     She rises from the depths
     from the phantom-riddled deep
     the angular monstrosity of the high North Sea.
      
     She attempts to make a show of her pride
     with the way she presents herself
     a reflection of the way she views her interior —
     her internal kaleidoscopic picture.
      
     As a beautiful creature with so much to offer
     she cannot understand why observers would shriek run and hide 
     when they would see her:
     Would they prefer she introverted, 
     and be the one to emotionally and physically hide?
      
     What was so terrifying with her
     means of angularity
     of differing degrees of separation —
     the very thought of her apparent failings
     caused her severe crippling anxiety.
      
     Was she truly less than perfection?
     Was her interior view an entire riddled mess?
     How could she bear to survive when before others
     she was viewed as unwanted, undeserving, severely unblessed?
      
     What it all came down to
     was an understanding of self-acceptance
     that there was nothing there for this angular being to
     reconsider in a negative means 
      
     nothing to make her feel her presence was
     unwarranted unnecessary completely underwhelming. 
      
     Instead her heart beats with renewed vigour 
     as we smile upon her, cheer her on,
     allow her to grow with her quiet confidence to reconsider
      
     that the negative views were borne of nothing true in reality
     and here she is in her beautiful angularity
     showing us her truths,
     in all her perfection and polarity of thoughts, feelings and views.   
      
     For we are all different but essentially we are one
     together our hearts can beat
     Our chest swollen with pride at knowing that
     we, like this beauty, 
     are the emotionally strong ones.
      
     And for those who are not quite there yet
     you will make it with some work 
     some trust
     some dispelling of inner hurt.
      
     You will make it, my friends,
     simply view our angular beauty as she 
     twists and turns her limbs in celebration
     of her personal development and love and acceptance which
     we truly must commend.

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


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  • Poem: A Resplendent Explorer – 24/09/19

    Poem: A Resplendent Explorer – 24/09/19

     A resplendent fish swims through the seas
     his angelic wings become of him
     intricate his image be 
     the seas warble fondly of him.
      
     With outstretched limbs he reaches forth
     into a mass of conical rocks of sorts
     he understands that with his fine winged hands 
     he cannot delve too deep 
     else he cauterises and causes his fateful end.
      
     A surprise! A proclamation —
     what has this beautiful thing found?
     in a world that’s utterly damning; 
      
     it’s a shock that his wings and arms are still here 
     intact and fanning
     for his secret discovery to be revealed
     to be told among those witnessing its handling.
      
     A florid limb unfolds
     revealing a tiny perfect white luminescent pearl
     with a sheen of such exquisiteness 
     it blinds those here 
     their eyes pain at its brilliance within their world.
      
     And with a little smile to himself
     the resplendent fish moves on
     clutching his treasure that will remain his
     until the moment he is captured 

     but even then, the pearl will not
     be permitted to be taken
     not from his hand will it be pried
     in death he’ll clutch until its presence ultimately
     becomes forgotten.  

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


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  • Poem: Disbelieving – 23/09/19

    Poem: Disbelieving – 23/09/19

     “Come to me,” he says, beckoning to the crowd.
     A creature with wide ears, open arms 
     and dreadfully hairy legs
     dressed in an Aztec-inspired poncho.
      
     “I have the answers to all your problems,” he promises.
     With a wave of his arms around the scene
     his eyes implore
     beg them to take it in.
      
     “See this land upon which we stand? 
     My creator, your creator
     built it grain by grain, sand and soil, compacted up and up 
     with his bare hands.”
      
     “But where is he now?” one witness calls.
     “Where is the proof of his promise to be here now?” another sneers,
     while the rest of the crowd starts to jeer.
      
     “I am here before you, 
     my words are here to ring true,
     the knowledge that all is repairable, 
     true faith will guide you through.”
      
     Still the crowd jeers, 
     how could this creature presenting himself to them
     be the one who was to preach and provide their lives’ stability,
     goodness and truth, acceptance, forgiveness and love
     these could easily be dismissed or 
     overthrown by a naïve or ignorant point of view.
      
     He attempts to speak once more,
     Explaining his role in this scene, to share pertinent truths
     not provide the others with personal gain and materialistic objects,
     yet the jeering turns into boisterous booing —
     it pains his heart to know that disbelieving unknowing beings like this existed. 
      
     So, the creature in a poncho turns his back,
     forsaking the bombastic disbelieving crowd
     who refuses to know more, existing on their meagre understanding 
     rather than accepting the notion that they are indeed already blessed and loved.
      
     This creature was a selected precious vessel chosen to spread the word of goodness,
     there was many before him and would be many after him,
     yet it is with despair that he accepts the knowledge that once again
     another select group of humans were not ready to hear the words and view his soul
     which he had dared to bare.  
      
     Perhaps in the next lifetime, he tells himself,
     as he drags his feet as he walks away.

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


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  • Poem: Bounce! – 22/09/19

    Poem: Bounce! – 22/09/19

     Bouncing here and 
     bouncing there,
     With no degree or level of
     concern or care.
      
     Flying high into a welcoming sky,
     Falling to a potentially grim reality below.
     The creaking trampoline springs could catch him,
     end his life as it is known. 
      
     But how does he do it?
     Land completely on the ‘X’?
     The perfect bouncing area
     his aim is nothing amiss;
     No disappointed ‘Oh’s’, nothing more or less.
      
     Because this six-legged creature is just so nimble
     and quick,
     If he ever became stuck in the springs,
     he’d wriggle his way out – 
     For that was just the way he is.
      
     One particular bouncy evening,
     this creature had been at it for hours,
     He bounced and dived and flew and glided
     His limbs guiding his particularly hairy and colourful form:
     This rising and falling allowed him to feel completely empowered.
      
     Because when he was a wee spider in the web, 
     barely breathing, unable to spin a thread,
     He felt lost inside, in a tiny world that seemed to suck him up. 
     
    His presence was unwanted by his abysmal excuse for a mother,
    He felt her unfeeling eyes were bone-dry, 
    with a heart full of ice.

    She seemed intent on catching and wrapping her prey,
    she spent no time with her children,
    She forsook them due to her obsession with delectable food,
    abandoning her kin's cries,
    Their desire for attention.
      
     So instead of hanging about, 
     in a stringent web that kept him in, and the interesting world out,
     He simply jumped over the edge and bounced:
     There was nothing left to lose. 
      
     He thankfully landed on a children’s trampoline,
     Perfectly positioned below him,
     Below the web of unwanted nightmarish dreams. 
      
     This was his escape,
     his adrenaline rush,
     And he made certain never to see his 
     viper of a life-giver again. 
      
     Bounce, bounce, bounce,
     It cleared his head, 
     Made him smile, 
      
     Hitting the ‘X’ at every turn,
     he would never be treated ill by another again. 
     This he would make certain of;
     this would be his happy ending.

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, 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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  • Poem: The Clever Cornish Chicken – 21/09/19

    Poem: The Clever Cornish Chicken – 21/09/19

     “Quit jivin’ turkey!” she said to me. 
     I most assuredly was not joking in any manner, way, shape or form,
     Because I had a certain need.
      
     A gamey desire for bird’s meat,
     I had quietly asked permission for a slice of thigh or another cut of leg,
     But this little clever Cornish chicken knew how to mess with my stomach and head.
      
     “Quit. Jivin’!” she repeated, glaring and skipping away as she said this to me. 
     I tried to give chase, but she was too nimble,
     Far too quick for the likes of me. 
      
     “Oh, but how I only need one slice, one little piece!” I emphasised. 
     “This you will not miss! As a clever Cornish chicken you will regenerate, 
     The piece will be replaced and this process won’t be amiss.” 
      
     She angrily ruffled her feathers, 
     Shook her humanoid head, 
     And then some screeching from the depths of her,
     I could not fathom how she simply would not share. 
      
     Because as a humanoid Cornish chicken, 
     Her flesh would return quickly, 
     This we should all be aware. 
      
     She was selfish, 
     Or, was I asking too much,
     No. Not at all,
     I grabbed at her thigh and felt her beating heart,
     She scrambled desperately, for me to be overthrown. 
      
     But I realised I was not like other humans,
     I would not, could not unfairly take,
     I had to wait until she offered a slice, 
     Being courteous was awfully nice.

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


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  • Poem: Living Breathing Wooden Girl – 21/09/19

    Poem: Living Breathing Wooden Girl – 21/09/19

     She was pliable; 
     A living, wooden girl.
      
     Whose heart melded so easily with others,
     Broken umpteen times she’d lost count.
      
     They would troupe, one by one,
     Contort her into something pleasing enough to view,
      
     Into something malleable,
     Useful, warranting their attentions,
     She’d barely need to beckon toward their view.
      
     How her heart beat like a chased wild rabbit,
     Intent on escaping down that hole,
      
     But the viewers, purveyors,
     Liked to amuse and play with certain things themselves.
      
     And this living, breathing doll,
     This girl hung onto perfect hope,
      
     That one day she would meet the hero in her tale,
     With his love, a perfected human being she’d become.
      
     When her joints would loosen, 
     Become like delicate glowing alabaster,
      
     But the hero in the tale is her,
     She will be the one permitting her own true awakening,
     She will be the one to curse away the undesirable curs.

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


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