Dovewing x blossomfall hypokits
I feel like this is absolutely a pair that Briarlight played matchmaker with! She’s probably very proud of herself.
Dappleheart - Tortoiseshell tom with thick fur. Warm and kind, preferring to stay in camp and spend time with the kits than hunt and fight.
Ducktail - Gray molly with a short, wide tail green eyes. Always does what she thinks is right, but often thinks that the right thing is whatever she perceives as being most beneficial to ThunderClan.
Driftlight - Pale gray and white tabby with yellow eyes. A spectacular fighter and tactician.
Duskfall - Dark gray tom with a few ginger patches. Well-meaning and good hearted, but blunt and direct. He doesn’t mind if he comes off as rude.
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Language is alive.
As alive as civilizations
and the people
and the lands they fill.
One year, ten,
decades, centuries
Go by.
And still, it remains.
Ever-changing and adapting,
stealing, molding, discarding.
Language is a journey:
changing,
from one stop to the next,
from generation to generation,
continuing forever.
on words and history // e.q.
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I long to be
Like the moon:
How she smiles
At whole and
And eaten half,
Privy to the wind’s whip
Of change
At ease in her
Shifting slip of skin,
Unafraid of the night’s,
Dark, dead fruits,
As she breaks to
To make herself anew.
How she magnetises,
The seven seas,
And push-pulls
Them all with ease,
Ever susceptible to her
Every tease.
How easy it is for her to
See from every angle,
Every fragile heart
And crying mouth,
Without ever burning out.
I long for her
Healing silver,
The peace of her mount
On the hill.
How much would it be,
How many pennies
Would I need to pay
To have
That much love to spill?
And, tell me, if you will,
Just how many
Hearts would it fill?
- @driftlight
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Today's the day. The day I tell her I love her. Like, actually love her. A sun and moon and stars and lightning and thunder kind of love. The kind that shakes you to your core. The kind that makes you grow. Like water after a drought. I feel like a tree with her. Like a grand old oak tree against the night sky. Like I could reach for the stars if I tried.
did you?
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by @driftlight
so i decided to try start lettering longer things lately, and what better than hannah’s amazing poetry??? (i hope you dont mind)
Seriously tho - go check out her writing @driftlight
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Bless this mess.
The half opened door.
The cracked light.
Draped over sleeves and
Creasing sheets,
As arms and legs
Huddle into
The growing warm.
The shirts and shoes
May be untidy
But they fit fine.
“Bless this mess.” - courtesy of @bokuto-kou
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i’ve now written 19 out of the 20 minimum poems i wanted to write for my chapbook driftlight yay ^_^
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How to make this amazing Carrot Cake: Coming soon on the Restaurant Recipes Show Dish by: Chef Matthew Brennan at Driftlight in The JW Marriott Waterside - Stay tuned for new episodes of Restaurant Recipes! Carrot Cake Mascarpone and Goat Cheese Cream, Carrot and Ginger Jam, Bruleed baby carrot, torched Meringue We’d like to thank the folks over at Don Pablo Coffee Growers and Roasters for sponsoring this episode of Restaurant Recipes! #restaurantrecipes #jwmarriott #carrotcake #carrot #cake #dessert #sweet #summervibes #florida #dirtydash #restaurant #freshfishfast #restaurantlife #chef #cheflife #cook #eat #howto #walkintalk #film #filmlife #foodie #foodielife #foodiegram #foodielove #cooking #cooklife (at JW Marriott Tampa) https://www.instagram.com/p/CiOXRr4Jy4n/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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who's your top ten fave poets on tumblr at the moment? is it cool if i ask that? :) i wanna find more poets!!!
@barneswilson -Nathanial’s words are literally just, heartstopping, sometimes I’m just, I feel like I need my inhaler but it’s not an attack it’s just so much emotion my lungs ache from it.
@borrowedgods - Zach is just, his words are sort of like scar tissue over an open wound? I want to bleed, but I’m already healing.
@driftlight - Hannah is, well, there aren't words for the sun Hannah manages to capture, not really.
@blurrifies - Anna is just, one of the best, hands down. Every single word is just a punch to the gut, to the heart, to every vulnerable organ.
@teddybluesclues -Lexi strings words together like fireflies in the night, I don’t really understand how, but she does and every line leaves me craving for something in me that I didn’t realize was still hollow.
@dvoyd - like a toothache for my soul, his words just devastate me with how much they are.
@fireandsteelofangels -Abby is ridiculously talented? Like, holy fuck.
@poetbitesback Could send the rest of my life reading Olivia’s words and literally never get tired of them. Ever.
@onthejellicoeroad - There’s something to be said for writing as if it’s the only thing you have ever done and the last thing you will ever do. Rika embraces that, fully.
@steebucks - I envy the gift you have, ahnika.
I hate doing this, most times, because I feel like I’m so often tagged in so much beautiful poetry I am always, undoubtedly leaving someone out. But, these wonderful, brilliant writers deserve to be recognized for their unspeakable talent. But if you’d like more poets, check out my blog under the tag, words.
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I can feel the ache inside me
gaping,
growing,
swallowing the bones and blood inside me.
The expanding void in its wake:
replacing flesh with broken words,
and the remains of dreams
eaten by a world called reality.
e.q.
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we'll drift
and we'll float
until we rest at the bottom of the world.
and the sun's light
fractured, encompassing,
will someday become the sands
we drift ashore upon.
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You and I:
we have found ourselves,
in our journeys
to make our way back to each other.
In my quest to be brave
I have found my edges,
and strength,
where I thought only lay weakness.
The shape of my cowardice
has shown me the path to compassion.
In your search to find heart,
you found inside yourself
a light,
that you had stopped believing you could carry.
You took that light and let it shine.
To carve paths in the dark
that had once trapped you,
and to guide others
so they may stumble, but never be lost.
a tale of two journeys // e.q.
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it is late.
it is late, and you are lying in the night amidst the early darkness of autumn, and you are tired.
tired of the endless doubt,
tired of the lacking skill,
tired of feeling every unattended moment, drilling anxiousness into you
like the touch of falling rain.
it is late, and you are tired.
(gods. i wish i could just sleep.) // e.q.
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Do not weep for me,
for I am just a dream.
But what are dreams,
You said,
But memories
of a life forgotten,
of a life unlived.
Dreams placed maps
among the stars,
and legends in our hearts.
They made us:
unfathomable,
immeasurable,
unstoppable.
Do not forget your dreams,
(lest you have no one to guide you when you sleep)
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time is time
(as love is love)
as death is death
it goes on.
from dust
the stars were formed
each life,
infinite
and the space left behind.
and so to dust
they shall return
and are remade again.
- time is just that. Life. // e.q.
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you wear your scars like armour
and wield your words like a blade.
invisible defenses for invisible wounds-
will your blood track like tears?
transparent; unseen.
- e.q.
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