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Literature
the year 300
        sweet fire sing
            to a primeval moon
                made of
                stardust,              
              and all that is to be-
            of our dreamers and dancers,
            when earth has not yet fully
            unfurled. Can you
          feel a melody lift over the wilds,
                          through the spring fields,
                          through rivers and oceans,
       
                             
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
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Literature
the dust never settles
                   the dust never settles
                  in these
                    streets,
                 always drifting, shifting;
           scattered by the wind
       
          searching for a place
                   to call
                       home.
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 2 0
Literature
think back, my dear
Think back, my dear;
can you remember,
remember the sprawling fields of years ago?
The gentle hums of farm vehicles as they roll on by
through sweet summer lanes        
                         and white fences long gone.
Do you remember the untroubled laughter of the river
and the songs she sang along with the birds?
                         among the hares and the youngest deer, their noses twitching,
                         warming the morning air with their breath,
and, oh, the ivy curling its way around tall resplendent pillars like tendrils reaching for the sky- whereupon shone an equally loving sun, turning all it touched to gold?
Well now the bulldozers have moved in, the people and the bustling roads of pavement (never just soft dirt, no), the veranda looks forlor
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 1 2
Literature
sarah
           i want it to taste like
                     dew on the spider-webs of six in the morning,
                   weathered wood, our breath fogging up
                     red-leafed air.
                   the blush of an apple in the autumn.
                   wet roads, windscreens.
          you and me,
          mugs of tea on a long country road.
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
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Literature
the sun set early
              the sun fights its way through a heavy blanket
                    of fog-soldiers weary, hanging,
                 makes the valley look like the dust settles
                  over the saigon of '62.
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 1 2
Literature
in maths
you know,
at first i drew her pretty,
like you said.
i drew her with eager eyes and
a dentist's dream smile,
and her eyebrows perfectly
arched.
but she didn't looked complete.
and, you know,
the more i fixed the lines i made,
the more i erased,
the more i tried to make her
look like a daydream-
her eyes turned dark
and her lips sharpened.
- the more she turned into something
wicked.
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 2 8
Literature
a boy before
       
                he tried his best
                        to kiss
                             away
               the sallow of my
                          cheek,
                        the graze on my arm
                       and the bruise
                                  on my thigh,
                                      but i guess i couldn't mention
   
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 1 0
Literature
dearie
"so yeah. we hired a van,
packed our bags and drove down south,"
he said. "me, jasper, ryan, uh, that gang,
about eight, nine of us,
got down to donnybrook and this motorbike came along
and just,"
he motioned with his hands-
"crashed straight into the windshield."
sophie flinched. "what?"
"well yeah. anyways,
none of us were hurt,
i don't even know how that happened,
and that guy just stares at us all
disoriented like,
and-"
he glances across and her eyes flick
back at him,
and he swallows.
the ground was muddy beneath his feet-
it had rained for the first time in months
that thursday. "and he's sitting there next
to his motorbike,
just fucking sitting there and
he's laughing his head off,"
he turns, watches her again-
how could he not?- and he caught
her lips hanging
slightly
apart,
a millimetre between them,
a perfect
millimetre.
the light shifted.
and for a moment she stared back unashamedly,
and he could feel his heart
in his fingers,
pulsing.
if he could give it to h
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 1 0
Literature
there breathes a man
             back when they were in high school,
                   cody caught the bus
                         further than anyone else,
                    to a line of run-down tenements
                    running the base of the hills like ants.
                    it was the autumn of twenty-sixteen
                       when he plucked up the courage to take her home.
                  he held her hand tight as they got off the seventy-one c,
                                    the only
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 1 0
Literature
curtains, candles
cold hands
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 2 0
Literature
an american love
a life in twenty days
and i keep thinking of streetlights, manhattan and apartments,
and this world that brought us so close,
so close i cradled your heart
in these cold-bare arms
and it thawed the winter away.
this love is like a slow dance,
warm and sweet and soft,
the last of the evening when the stars are
so low in the sky,
they send you straight to sleep.
whenever i think of you,
i can't imagine us in this red country,
this stricken country which we call home,
keeping company with
the loneliest nights that man could find
because, darling,
you are my home.
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 1 0
Literature
how english
this little town,
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 2 0
Literature
sol.
             your voice is a half-broken radio signal,
                                   a poem part formed.
                    sitting on a single bed and
                        your sentences,
                they slide off at the ends
                                and soar into thinness and
                                   you let them drift away,
                    hoping she'll grasp your voice,
                hoping she'll understand.
 
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 2 0
Literature
Winter II
             a lake fringed by bluebells in the deep of winter,
               frost carvings around the flowers, ice sculptures in the woods.
           animal tracks set in ice-encrusted snow.
                    a lake, young surface, yet with lightning-struck fractures,
              frost-bitten fingers that intertwine, clandestine,
                                                animal claws scrabble for air.
              winter sets all to sleep, some with a song,
                 some without warning, a storm in dark woods,
               snow as a blanke
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 4 5
Literature
HaikuWriMo- Feb 2014
Day One
I keep books: words
that never fail to make me
                                 smile.
Day Two
Fresh autumn leaf-piles,
dancing breezes sweep cotton clouds.
Hear the young one's joy.
Day Three
In these corridors,
memories crowd my unused ears.
I have never left.
Day Four
December schooldays
and walks down that old scorched road,
a stream of worn shoes;
If we try and leave them, they
won't be easily forgotten.
Day Five
The wilted grass stirs
when winter sends its rain- try,
keep this in your mind.
Day Six
Stately rivers run,
bending, shifting over time-
and we must shift, too.
Day Seven
Sir, we never came
to talk about bitter ends.
We always march on.
Day Eight
Early morning sun
warms voices wafting through halls-
this school brought to life.
Day Nine
New day, a stone's throw
to a silent horizon,
beyond resting hills.
Day Ten
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
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Literature
A Nonet of November
Spring
:iconKyaniteArcher:KyaniteArcher
:iconkyanitearcher:KyaniteArcher 3 13

Random Favourites

Literature
She'll Be Back
I use some terms specific to New Zealand in here. They're explained in the description. :D
I hear you knock, knock, knocking on the old wooden door.
Hello? Can I help you? Who are you looking for?
Oh, terribly sorry; she’s not here anymore.
Don’t look so worried! She’s just out for a walk.
She took the long, narrow track off through the reserve,
far past the farms, where car alarms can’t be heard.
She skipped down the gravel where the winds are chill
and headed for the sound of a tui’s trill.
Where there’s lichen and moss and an alpine lawn,
where trees bend their knees to the whim of the storm,
in some great kauri forest that men forgot
near an ancient stream where taniwha bones rot.
She’s flitting with the fantail through the light-speckled boughs
and scurrying with skinks in their homes underground.
She’s taking lessons from the kakapo and learning to boom,
and so she’s space to sit, the tuatara make room.
Where the cutty
:iconAbberance:Abberance
:iconabberance:Abberance 2 13
Willheim Curtisimo V2 by TheMinersDestiny Willheim Curtisimo V2 :icontheminersdestiny:TheMinersDestiny 5 18
Literature
Dragon Skies
Hush little hatchling, open your eyes
Come explore the dragon skies
With birds of sun, and birds of flame,
From this land of fire, we all came
In charcoal forests the Hound packs roam
Nightmare herds call the obsidian plains home
Above the clouds, a treasure lies
A thousand, million fireflies
So stretch your wings, open your eyes
Come explore the dragon skies
:iconLexiLopezi:LexiLopezi
:iconlexilopezi:LexiLopezi 5 3
Literature
Listen, listen, they whisper...
Listen, listen, they whisper.
Do you have ears to hear us?
Danger lurks, dark 'n sinister.
Be careful out there, Listener!
You used to be a human.
Only half, maybe.
But when
You were sucked into Minecraftias reality,
You noticed that the game
wasn't quite the same
anymore.
Listen, listen, they whisper.
Do you have ears to hear us?
Danger lurks, dark 'n sinister.
Be careful out there, Listener!
Friends you make truly quickly
Obsidian, Red, Sarah, Aaron 'n Moss
Shall help you on your quest to save destiny.
A good thing I say, your fighting skills aren't exactly boss.
Ememies are plenty,
one should stand sentry
for the night.
Listen, listen, they whisper.
Do you have ears to hear us?
Danger lurks, dark 'n sinister.
Be careful out there, Listener!
To Voidrip you travel
and Swampheart, too.
Stopping a battle of supreme level
in the one, freeing Mobs from a morbid zoo
in the other. Leader Rose isn't someone to mess with,
The Mobs are certainly brave, but you seemed to be scared stiff
of y
:icondgmnfangirl080:dgmnfangirl080
:icondgmnfangirl080:dgmnfangirl080 1 7
Literature
A brief history of Minecraftia
Before the beginning...
...there was nothing.
There was no light or darkness,
neither space, nor time.
There was void, but it didn't exist, for nothing existed.
And then, a thought was born.
Be.
And with Thought, there was Consciusness.
With the sudden flash of light, there was darkness.
With something, there was nothing or, a definition of nothing for the lack of a better word.
And the Void was blue with purity.
As blue as the skies above us.
The Thought created while thinking.
It thought of many: of stars and galaxies, of planets and comets.
And the Consciusness knew about itself.
It watched and told the Thought what it saw.
And after many, many years, as the Thought already created many things
and the Consciousness already saw many things, they both wanted a
body.
And so, they merged.
They created two contrasts.
And the contrasts had consciousness and they had thoughts.
They were aware of themselves and gave each other names.
The one contrast who loved it to create and to cha
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:icondgmnfangirl080:dgmnfangirl080 5 9
Literature
Golem
We remember when you dug us from the riverbank, but we forgive you. The water was cold and the people had need of us.
We remember when you divided and shaped us, but we forgive you. We were without form and the people had need of us.
We remember when you put us in flames, but we forgive you. We were soft and the people had need of us.
We recall the day when you sent us against swords. This we forgive. The people had need of us: we would not desert them when foes were near.
We remember when you broke us with hammers. Even this we forgive. The battle was won, and the people had no more need of us.
But though shattered, we remained on the hillside, for no people came to sweep the shards away. This too we forgive, for our eyes remained littering the ground and it allowed us to see.
We saw you crowned and we rejoiced though our own heads were shattered. We saw rings on your fingers and we applauded though our own hands were lost. We saw robes on your shoulders and we were glad, though our o
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:icondamonwakes:DamonWakes 321 137
Literature
a ribcage drenched in dust
i have your ribcage, you said.
what should i put in it?
i told you i'd always wanted a fire,
the kind that would fill my eyes with starlight
and pump my blood full of passion, but
you're made of wildflowers, you said.
a fire would burn you to ash.
you wanted to fill my chest with
the sound of a train, whistling
far away in the night;
with the sound of rain smacking leaves;
with the sound the wind makes
when it seems like it's trying to speak
and you wanted to throw in the
smell of midnight in august
and the feeling of sand being
sucked out from under your feet
when the ocean inhales,
and the strange little moment of
bittersweet joy you get when
someone else puts your soul into words
and you realize you're not as alone as you thought.
i told you that if i had all that inside me,
i'd ache all the time
and you smiled a sad little smile,
because you already knew that ache.
because you were a writer, and you ached all the time.
i've got it, i said.
tell
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Touch by TransparentTruffle Touch :icontransparenttruffle:TransparentTruffle 8 2 Web by ChaoticMind75 Web :iconchaoticmind75:ChaoticMind75 1,364 101
Literature
Inbetween.
They speak of moonlit nights;
and silky summer days.
But there is a magic in the twilight.
The black reaching silhouettes of trees
know this magic and reach with it
spiny fingers yearning for the places they can never touch.
It's an old song, an ancient tale
born of the earth
of the mother
of the father
of life
and death
and the things
in between the cracks.
This is the tale of the twilight
and the time when the worlds pull apart
and you are standing in the gap.
Leaves are brittle and breaking beneath your bare feet,
and the wind yanks at your hair
trying to take you away
somewhere else.
:iconMeggie272:Meggie272
:iconmeggie272:Meggie272 12 37
[CRAP QUALITY] Adeline Jones V3 by TheMinersDestiny [CRAP QUALITY] Adeline Jones V3 :icontheminersdestiny:TheMinersDestiny 1 5 [UNFINISHED] Adeline Jones V3 by TheMinersDestiny [UNFINISHED] Adeline Jones V3 :icontheminersdestiny:TheMinersDestiny 10 15 Minecraft Wallpaper #67 by Milkafan34 Minecraft Wallpaper #67 :iconmilkafan34:Milkafan34 6 2 dawn by FokkusuNM dawn :iconfokkusunm:FokkusuNM 13 4

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KyaniteArcher

Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
Australia
please don't thank me for the fave c:
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:iconmousemaster42:
MouseMaster42 Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014  Student Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav! :iconglomp2plz: Hope this year is going well for you
Reply
:iconkyanitearcher:
KyaniteArcher Featured By Owner Jan 31, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Not particularly, but this year shows a lot of promise! Is college going well for you?
Reply
:iconsilverinkblot:
SilverInkblot Featured By Owner Oct 4, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the faves :)
Reply
:icontyrison:
Tyrison Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2014  Student Writer
A belated thank-you for the collect!
Reply
:icontabbyxthexcat:
TabbyxthexCat Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the favorite. It was ages ago, but I haven't been on in a while.
Reply
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