Everyday is like Sunday

Past Lives

mackhopkoturner:

I

Upon her naked skin lie wounds from old worlds,
Badges of deaths forgotten in rebirth.
Her soul rose from white coffin pages in groves to
Journey into the newest of lives she long desired,
Far away from all known to discover
All matter reflects similar light.
Creation magnetized her, pulled her tightly to
Grasp the ancient within that emerged further
Outward each Dawn on the horizon,
Blurring distinctions once cemented with purpose -
The attraction proved inevitable.

She allowed Red to dominate, yet she was a
Jewel of Blue glittering on sun touched sand like
Lost treasure once lost, now found.
Broken free from behind veils that
Guided her forwards to Math degrees
Making her abdomen boil in illness with
Plaguing cold case ailments that
Weather her vessel with evidence absent at every scene.
Creation promised comfort through lens and pens,
Keepsakes born to decorate Lazarian dreams so
Nightmares of remembrance stop crawling back.

The mind is without escape, she once tried.
Memories return with tormented pain, her
Blank slate dissolved to cheap white wash.

II

He remembers frightening the old nurse who
Stared past hazel eyes and saw pain
Harbored in the antique soul carried as
Luggage and used for wisdom.
The call of London and distant world never ended,
Names forever etched on cruel maps
Leading to destinations known only to the
Wanderer within standing on familiar soil.
Voyages never made, only remaining targets
He proved unable to pull triggers at from fear of
Further murderous residue filching is hands.

Trees spoke when he walked amongst them,
Revelling in silence how his family did not -
Their loud voices shouting models of expected identities.
Did he search to find something once lost?
Soul within trapped in troubled present, coveting
Vintage streets where it all went wrong.
Escaping in new form but old heart did he seek
Serene sounds of streams and the flopping of fish
Soothing him how only nature could when Speech Therapy’s
Cold slender fingers came prying to strip serenity how
Industry raped those cherished woods.

Introversion stems from guilt seeds planted by
Failure waiting to be reflected once more when
Yesterday’s sins meet those of today.

III

Wastelands saw her oasis emerge before he that
Conjured her as if through occult.
Eyes seeing beneath changed geography, witnessing
Familiarity stand where it once had.
She was his eternal and this a second chance he
Could not yield to hulking Falcon garbed in
Night Skies without cartography he obsessed over.
Astrology had not perceived alignment in
Stars governing the fate bleeding at their feet.
She rejected others who proclaimed him as
Passing Clouds rather than Setting Suns.

He was trickster Crow and not fantastic Fox she knew -  
That spirit arrived late with chance extinguished.
He wore the guise well and made her his with each
Flash of hot white lightning sparking from touched lips
Replacing electric shock voltage as cure for sorrow.
Madness had not created any illusion in her,
Finding the tomb she chose to rest in bearing his
Name in bold stone permanence promised.
Past cold burials gifted them maturity as
They rose from the darkened world, soaring
Above mistake in Lunar Cycles. 

She crafted him a compass to find her next life
Rather than playing in Persephone’s blooming Tulips.
He made her an immortal life in pages kissed by ink
Where out of whispers he wrote howls.

Left Atrium

mackhopkoturner:

Her tears spoke words her mouth could not,
Gazing into the mirror at unrecognizable reflections.
Surrounding walls gasoline soaked, waiting sparks to
Ignite and burn within until winds of the new day blow.
Tossing a match, she let flames engulf all she knew -
Houses he promised and she dreamt of…

Check out my new blog, now!

Days Gone Days Come

Hey guys, check out my new blog!

I’ll be posting a bunch of stuff that I’ve written and other stuff that I am writing. If you are interested, do me a favor and follow me on this new blog. Thank you

Days Gone Days Come

attack-mack-attack:

Hey everyone!

I know I haven’t posted in forever but if you’re still out there reading somewhere and looking for a new blog to follow, I’ve started a new this one to post some of my writing that I’ve been working on over the course of whenever I can. 

I’ll be posting some poems, some short short stories, small writings, and what not pretty soon. It would mean a lot to me if this was shared and exposed to where interested eyes can look upon it. 

Thank you so much, I hope to remain amongst you!

Mack

mackhopkoturner:

"Satire is a lesson, parody is a game." - Vladimir Nabokov
This past year in college I felt that our generation needed some outlet of frustration. Having identified with Allen Ginsberg’s immortal “Howl”, I chose to emulate his style and draft a sequel for the times in which we live. I presented an original copy as a small writing project for a class in American Literature and before I chose to publish it as my first post I revised it and added in new lines while deleting old ones. 
I hope you enjoy, carry on,
Mack

mackhopkoturner:

"Satire is a lesson, parody is a game." - Vladimir Nabokov

This past year in college I felt that our generation needed some outlet of frustration. Having identified with Allen Ginsberg’s immortal “Howl”, I chose to emulate his style and draft a sequel for the times in which we live. I presented an original copy as a small writing project for a class in American Literature and before I chose to publish it as my first post I revised it and added in new lines while deleting old ones. 

I hope you enjoy, carry on,

Mack

(Source: )

Days Gone Days Come

Hey everyone!

I know I haven’t posted in forever but if you’re still out there reading somewhere and looking for a new blog to follow, I’ve started a new this one to post some of my writing that I’ve been working on over the course of whenever I can. 

I’ll be posting some poems, some short short stories, small writings, and what not pretty soon. It would mean a lot to me if this was shared and exposed to where interested eyes can look upon it. 

Thank you so much, I hope to remain amongst you!

Mack

aseaofquotes:

Anne Sexton, “Admonitions to a Special Person”

aseaofquotes:

Anne Sexton, “Admonitions to a Special Person”