Poem: Running From Dusk Until Dawn: Stuck in a Year I Was Never Meant to Own – 21/10/19

 From dusk to dawn I thought of you,
Obsessed, my mind ran through moments lacking your truths.
Where passions were high and my fingers danced their little tunes,
I begged, beseeched for you to listen
To my heart
My beating
For you so true.
 
I yearned for your presence
But you would not allow me this
I rarely saw you
Yet my words I sent them
Stronger, becoming desperate,
My emotions to you were amiss
Yet when I thought of you
All I could recall was a misting bliss.
 
What could I say to make you turn my way?
To gather your feelings in a heartfelt kind of manner
That would make you want to visit my world
And here remain?
 
I should have wished for something more
Because with you there was soon a forceful need
To escape
To run
Or at least
Refrain,
Falling in love was a misdeed.

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

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Prose Poetry: Daffodil – 20/10/19

The daffodil is strangely beautiful in its brightened yellow garb. In his coloured outfit of delight, he makes observers sing and sigh with breathy appreciation and flowing rivers of love.

He is modest, this daffodil, he does not ask to be seen for what he is not, he is not showy or greedy for eyes, he accepts what is given, where our eyes are cast.

But we cannot stare at anything other than him, his joyous melody of lightness seemingly singing, singing, through our innate senses of melodious being.

He also represents awareness, a sign of a reminder, but here he is simply here, present, and we appreciate his wonder. All the while though, there is a knowing that his sincere purpose is to make others show that we understand, we are aware, of his meaning we truly care.

His beauty can be deceptive, but he is now blossomed, into full bloom, like the brightened message he represents, we can take this flower with us, from hushed room to comforting room.

This daffodil is magic, and he is perfectly pleased with being part of a message, raising eyes, awareness and acknowledging the brave hearts whom the blossom is trying to help save with his blessings.  

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


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Poem: Adorn Thy Clause: An Acerbic Recollection of 2015 – 20/10/19

 ‘Adorn thy clause, irreverently yours’, 
You once held my yearning heart for ransom.
 
I spoke the loving words you never spoke,
As my heart held open doors,
Now they’re firmly closed,
No in-and-out fairies a-prancing.
 
Many times, I proclaimed my ardour for you
With brightened smiles and flowery poetry,
But the wool was pulled over my eyes,
And now it’s time to share the story.  
 
Had you not made me walk your path
Where I experienced your sheer manipulation
And audacity
 
I might have never found my true love and known
How I deserved to be treated by another,
Decently, respectfully, properly.

The juxtaposition between my present love
And your lying proclamations was a comparative
Level of suffering.

You should not have been allowed to
Remain in my life for that long
The fact you had is strangely amazing.
 
Oh, call the lyrebirds,
And the peacocks with their brightened plumes!
That evening when we first properly spent time together,
We had our first emotional encounter in that starched white room.
 
But as likely with all your romances,
You caused this to become pear shaped,
You blasted away any sense of responsibility
You took my hard work, honour, and generosity
For granted each and every day.
 
Your behaviour should have been wiped away.
 
I didn’t need something or someone like this in my life,
I’m actually glad that you pulled yourself away,
Excised me from my strife,
For I had better things to write of, feel and say,
I was worthy of the then-unwanted freedom you cast my way.
 
And for months I was required to heal,
My mental health wrecked and ravaged,
I speak for myself, as I speak for all,
We are not all left that damaged.
 
So, I adorn my clause,
To you I present not even as irreverently yours,
Not even sincere in the slightest.
But because of you, and how you make me felt,
Like dirt smooshed into the ground,
I realise and know that I deserve behaviour
Only of the finest merit.

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


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Poem: Cheer Girl – 19/10/19

 She cheers for me,
She cheers for you,
She’s there standing by the side lines
When we are down and blue.
 
She encourages us
To be the best that we can
She calls out motivation and speaks of
Our inner and outward strengths.
 
When we stumble
If we fall,
She’s roaring now,
She’s having a ball!
 
She screams for us to keep on going,
That we can perform what we wish to be
Our dreams must be ongoing
Her voice she does not think of saving.
 
And then from the side lines
She now rushes onto the court
Holding our bodies then raising us up
 
She swings us round and round
Like children on the Hills hoist
And reminds us to enjoy our lives
In all our successes,
Failures,
And future joy.

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


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Prose Poetry: The Flowing River Meeting Place – 14/10/19

There was a river flowing from my heart at the point where we first met. Two streaming rushes converging into other, as we assessed and smiled and interacted with one another. I drew pictures on the back of your hand, little symbols here and there, you allowed me to be cutesy and my childish myself, and I so love that about you, that of my personality, you were immediately made aware and you didn’t back away, you didn’t seem to care.

Your water brings me sustenance and lifts the dehydrating fog; disallows my heart from becoming parched and dry, and nestles me into your hydrating, plumping love. At this rushing river where our hearts were made known of each other’s presence and traits, are where we meet daily, our emotions intertwining together, becoming vines wrapped alongside and with each other. Because that is how we are, our fates are now twisted, into tightly coiled shapes, and the thorns? Why, they’ve completely gone missing.

Because there is no longer any room for personal barbed pain or undying senses of loneliness to be noticed, harped upon, and saved. Because together we are stronger, in charming and less charming circumstances we will remain with great ardour, and in saying this I will strongly ascertain that our love for one another will remain as long as our forevers.  

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


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Poem: Hollow Eyed – 13/10/19

 She hides between the curtains and the window
from nothing in particular,
allowing herself to view the wide-eyed smiling moon
casting its dancing light upon the dew dotted grass;
a nightly view so familiar.
 
The brightness is expansive in her vision
compared to the darkened room which she calls her home,
where upon the walls
she sketches blackened and angry or
haunted hollow-eyed figures
whom dance within her dark.
 
She aches inside for she feels
another’s soul-destroying pain,
unknowing how to assist,
to disallow this being from suffering
their despairing depression sunken,
their once-free heart
their once open wide days.
 
And knowing this other being is suffering
assists her to meld easily with him,
with her distress and unknowing
they speak well late into the nights
of sadness and pain and hurt upon the hours,
 
while living in this cocoon of black sombre wall faces and figures
and speaking of desires to once more be free,
from the wretched pains and emotional strains this being and her speak of
they were intertwined through their suffering.
 
There came times of poetic injustice
of teenage clichés and hidden wrists,
but they are not so commonplace with their
assisted wept sufferings.
 
These were simply times where these vulnerable beings
melded as one
to provide support, young love and concern,
and express their fluctuating emotions thereabouts.
 
For the brief moment in time
their stars and signs aligned
and they were both correct for one another and dangerous to be with each other.
 
For if the other one fell,
the other would surely fall deeper,
how far could one drop before reaching a void that one is not meant to visit nor seek?

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


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Poem: In The Springtime of Your Youth – 11/10/19


It’s like in your life the season is spring,
everything is regenerating;
all is coming to life again.
 
The flower buds protrude,
the birds in their nests become
obsessed with their new fledgings.
 
Parents anxiously feeding,
fussing,
brightness and flock of a feather becoming.
 
Your heart swells at the feeling that you too
are appreciated,
looked after,
cared for with great gentleness and self-assurance.
 
Not by another but by yourself,
you almost feel as if you don’t deserve these
 moments here in this peaceful, blossoming world
where you have assigned a place of love,
a place of comfort,
a place of personal growth.
 
Because here you will know of this more,
soon when you realise that you are overdue for everything
brilliant,
because for you, my sweet,
there are many open doors.
 
So do not cry at the notion that you are less than deserving,
do not allow a single tear to fall unless it is from
your personal feeling of a blessing.
 
And please love yourself
within the headiness of this springtime air,
embrace the birds, the circling bees,
the hanging trees with their veils to avoid
their hidden passageways being seen.
  
Your heart needs to be open and willingly prepared for this care.

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


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Poetry and Prose: Symphonies of Kindness – 06/10/19

Feel those interlacing melodies, the interwoven harmonies rise and fall, like a spectacular swarm of hungry, eager bees, starved from Autumn and Winter, waiting for the buds of Spring to appease them all. These melodic bees enter the symphony as they desire, lifting and lilting with their buzzes strictly moving from flower to flower. The pollen dirties their legs, but, they do not mind, they are not self-conscious, neither are they abashed, because they love the dirty work as much as any other insect, except these can rise far higher than any other with a set task at hand.

And like these precious hungry bees, I speak to you, begging for nourishment. For my meal of sustenance, and for my deep-seeded hunger to be fulfilled and cause a whirlwind of taste-bud excitement and delight. Others would not feed me their love, they starved me, in fact, they took from my heartfelt feelings and left me broken and bruised, a gaping hole in my stomach and soul, from associating with people who didn’t deserve the true Me that I was offering them. Had I offered my heart to you? Did you laugh as I despaired at losing the presence of you?

But now I can hear that buzzing, accompanying a melodious male voice, speaking of acceptance, duality, and kindness, symphonies of smiling adoration and knowingness. You have taken me into your life, made music out of the lullabies I sung to thee, and with your arm around me, we sing together now, accompanied by our symphony of precious bees. Because their pollen will fertilise the flowers, make them bloom, blossom, grow, for many hours, and with their colourful additions into the scene, you and I can travel hand in hand to places we’ve never thought to have been.

Our armour has been displaced upon the ground; unwanted, unnecessary, and now unknown. Because, in you, my love has been found.

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


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Poem: The Ribbon-Twirling Dancing Dolly – 06/10/19

 She joyously twirls bright ribbons yet feels dead inside,
With a knowledge that what was once there,
Fresh-faced, bright, youthful, still alive,
Is now broken, irreparable,
Scattered in pieces upon the stage,
An urban pavement,
Nothing to show for the destruction,
No sense of inner pride or holding her head up high.
 
Her dolly-brightness is a façade
The light and shade a humorous method
At relaying that inside she is still ignited
Still burning with life;
One only has to look at her lack of brightened eyes
To take in this scene with a sense of absent mirth.
 
Oh, how she could have reached the heights
Become more than she had ever been
How she could have flown into the hemisphere
Succeeding and achieving at building a life
Of her own.
 
But here she is
Dead as a doornail because of the path that she chose,
To vacuously entertain and be admired rather than use her mind,
To exercise the chemistry of her intelligent brain

For a while she was simply an amusement
A joke
Something mocked behind open hands
Just something to be viewed in passing
upon the set stage.

But with time, hopefully she’ll rectify her life
Breathe in once more
And live a great freedom, a life
Without recollection of that strife.
 
Because dollies are meant to play
Entertain their owners
Give them joy for hours upon days
And seemingly there is nothing wrong
With amusing another
When it is performed with great respect of oneself
And with an allowance of renewed life and vigour.
 
Thus, with her self-justification and self-talk
She feels less dead inside now,
Her stitched-shut eyes now become visible once more,
Brightened with the knowledge
that her presence is again wanted
She is popular,
Not cast aside onto the floor.
 
A renewed sense of popularity,
A chance to regain a zest for life,
To provide them with who she was meant to be -
Now,
She throws down her ribbons
Which kept her bound and down.

Altered, affected and no longer ill at ease
She strives for something more,
Something less vapid,
A role in life where she could be
Acknowledged as being more than what she’d been designed for,
Her eyes are finally open enough to see.

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


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Poem: A Mirror of Blossoming Colours – 05/10/19

 Stardust, starlight and blossom so bright,
A mention of colours I see tonight
Be they bold, subdued, or delicate, or brutal,
I see them;
Internally, I can feel them.
 
It is as though each colour has an emotion,
I assign a meaning to each shade, each hue,
Only I absorb their meanings,
I can hear them,
Can they feel my appreciation, too?
 
Like a beautiful tropical bloom in my sight,
The combinations become heightened
As my emotions grow in power,
There is nothing beyond my colours,
but an ephemeral fog which will last and obscure us
for a little while longer.
 
But the shades, oh, the shades,
How they make me feel such tender turmoil,
Their assigned meanings remind me of
The yearning years
Where I was delicate and life was anything but simple.
 
Where I ached for someone to truly notice my colours
The uniqueness that my vibrancy displayed,
How I wasted many years chasing other shades
Not suited to me,
Monochromatic in shade.
 
I thought they were right,
I thought they would complement me,
But my hues were too flamboyant and different,
I wasn’t accepted -
Always viewed as something other than wanted
Usually indifferently,
An undesirable, unpopular oddity.
 
But now I can bloom with brilliance
Just like this summoned flower before me
In fact, it is as though it is my mirror
Reflecting myself back at me.
 
I no longer need to hide away,
I can blossom and shine without doubt
Without feeling afraid,
The absence of approval is easy enough to do without,
And my true self I do not need to disguise or hide away.

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


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