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Ciullo Corporation's Bifolchi! World TourCiullo Corporation's Bifolchi! World Tour by Ciullo-Corporation
Ciullo Corporation announces its very first worldwide art contest: Bifolchi! World Tour
Artists of any school are welcome to partecipate, contest will be hold on deviantART, NewGrounds, Cimmarian and YouTUBE, the rules are simple:
FOLLOW US at least on the site you mean to partecipate the contestAny kind/style of art is acceptable (incl. literature, manga, comics, cosplay, etc)
Any submission MUST HAVE "Bifolchi!" in the title and a link to the OFFICIAL SITE in the description (on NG add "Ciullo-Corporation" as "Inspiration" in the credits of your creation, you may join also with collabs)If you add another fandom please write it in the description
You MUST USE AT LEAST ONE OF OUR CHARACTERS
i need your help!just like last year, i entered a national spoken word contest and i need a ton of "thumbs up" on youtube to make it to the next round of judging.i need your help! by learningtobefree
please go click "like" and spread this around!
everyone here has always been so supportive of me and i've grown a lot in this community and i'm indebted to all of you.
A History of Magic previewA History of Magic preview by ML-Larson
It was a last minute decision. Carly wasn't even sure if it was going to work, but she hadn't had a day off since she took Gunnar to Boulder City, and she needed one. Gunnar may have been a robot, but Carly needed dark days, even if it meant she had to show up at his door and demand one by holding him hostage.
She let herself in through the greenroom and followed the corridor around to the guest elevators. She only vaguely remembered which room Gunnar was in, finding it only because he'd actually hung a 'do not disturb' sign on the door handle. Carly listened through the door for a few seconds, able to hear him moving around on the other side. Taking that to mean he was already awake, she knocked on the door and put on her happy face. It was not a face matched by Gunnar when he answered. His hair hung in dark tangles over his shoulders, like he’d barely bothered to brush it after getting up, and more of his tattoos were visible outside hi
Lay of Runes: Sky Treader previewLay of Runes: Sky Treader preview by ML-Larson
Thor found Loki in bed. He always seemed to find Loki either there or under the forecourt ash tree, unless he was hiding altogether. Sometimes, Loki would hide for what seemed like months, disappearing and reappearing as the mood took him.
Loki hardly looked up as Thor burst into the room with his bearskin travelling bag slung over his shoulder. Loki had spent far too much time alone, and it was time someone put a stop to that, Thor decided. He had an ancient book in his hands, which he made a point of not looking away from as Thor dropped his travelling bag loudly to the floor.
“Oh, you are in here today,” Thor said happily. “Good. I was worried I might run out of places to search.”
“Do you need something, Thor?” Loki asked. “The stables are outside, where they’ve always been.”
“So you do know where they are. I was beginning to think I might have to show you, in case you forgot.
Aux Armes, Citoyens!Allons enfants de la Patrie,Aux Armes, Citoyens! by Apache1342
The enemy has showed its face again:
terrorizing the Parisian people of France for the second time.
Entendez-vous dans les campagnes
Mugir ces feroces soldats?
They've claimed already two nations to their association
Planting fear into hearts of the innocent.
Ils viennent jusque dans nos bras
Egorger nos fils, nos compagnes!
But they shall not succeed
Nor will they achieve victory of the slightest.
Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Qu'un sang impur
Abrueve nos sillons!
The enemy has gathered many oppositions against itself
The world's nations will soon unite to combat these savages and claim victory and justice for France.
Que veut cette horde d'esclaves,
De traitres, de rois conjures?
Why must they disturb the peace our world has fought so long for?
Why must they disturb the peace of Paris?
Francais, pour nous, ah! Quel outrage
ExileThe sound of her voice was his music,Exile by Jade-Pandora
mute of syllables, singing of his
banishment from the grace of her words.
He gathered sleep from the outline of
her breasts, keeping himself to a
dark niche within reach of her perfume.
Keeping her in his sight, he wondered
as he began to pleasure;
when had she known?
He imagined a much younger time
when she could
extract milk from the stars,
when she first offered a cup to his lips,
trembling from kneeling on the
cold foyer tiles of her regal domicile.
Now there he was, reduced to a
vicarious act while the sight of her
never taking his quartz eyes off her,
and her fertility
was all the adornment he desired.
He, a pebble in the garden, needed
no pillow or curtain. His nostrils filled
with essence of Osmanthus.
All he knew from that moment when the
agony of his passion ignited was
hearing the song of his exquisite exile.
Cut itEvery day I try to cut the tiesCut it by Church38
Every night I fall deeper than before
These strings tight on my heart and head
Mornings are darker than I've ever known
A mold you cast I fit right in
The movie watched is us again
Where did it all start
How does it all end
Say it loud, straight to me like you don't care
To the point, cut it deep cause it's not fair
And drifting back in
When I'm silent my hands are so loud
When you're gone my thoughts are just so
Until another replaces one other
And I'm out of this debt to your eyes
The smile you show Inside
Open your book like mine
When did we meet
When do we say goodbye
Say it loud, straight to me like you don't care
To the point, cut it deep cause it's not fair
Falling away from you
And drifting back into this
The Gifted: Utopia - Chapter ThreeDr. Irving Mann sat quietly on a bench in a long corridor. The building he now found himself in seemed empty, except for the distant voices he could hear behind the doors that lined this vacant hall. The fact that he had been blindfolded before being taken here meant something of great importance to him. He knew all too well about the lengths the Organic Sciences Agency took to keep their secrets, he had after all been recruited out of college to work for their genetics division, at least until his position was deemed unnecessary.The Gifted: Utopia - Chapter Three by arcades666
Although blindfolded, he could tell during the drive by the smells and sounds that they had traveled well outside the city. He had been sitting on that unforgiving wooden bench, listening to the indistinguishable voices and staring at the small satchel he had brought with him, for what seemed an eternity before the door opposite him opened and he was beckoned forth to enter.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Dr. Mann,” a slender man in a lab coat greete
The Gifted: Utopia - Chapter TwoSitio's was an Italian restaurant that was a throwback to another era, a small, quaint place among the downtown hustle and bustle of Manhattan. The neighborhood it occupied was almost as unique as the place. A tattoo parlor sat on one side and a florist shop sat on the other. Across the street were a mom-and-pop coffee shop and a rundown printing shop. But Sitio's was high-class. Or at least it tried to present itself as such, with marble floors, baroque-styled furnishings, and hand-blown glass fixtures. It was also expensive - probably too expensive for the neighborhood, but word-of-mouth had built up a steady and respectable patronage. The people who came here were mafioso wannabes, bored yuppies, and widowed heiresses. The clientele, like the atmosphere, was something all its own.The Gifted: Utopia - Chapter Two by arcades666
That was where Klaus had taken Linda Grey on their third official date. He was a goonish brute of a man, an old-school German in his late forties, but he held a youthful appearance that belied his age. He
The Gifted: Utopia - Chapter OneThe room was sterile white; the stark white typical of hospitals. The polished floor shined and had a faint odor of sweetly scented cleaning products. The slow hum of the fluorescent lighting was the only sound he could hear, save for the occasional footfalls outside his door as someone walked past on the imitation marble tiled hallway. The examination table that Sean Miller now found himself resting upon was cold and pliable, its vinyl leather imitation fabric sticking to his clammy hands as he pushed himself up and to his feet. The room was becoming claustrophobic and Sean was getting restless.The Gifted: Utopia - Chapter One by arcades666
“C'mon, already.” he muttered under his breath. It had been at least two hours since they had taken his blood and then just left him waiting in there. There were none of the typical magazines or brochures or anything really to pass the time with - just the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. He had resorted to reading the only poster in the room about three times now. A medica
Dreaming to be FreeWill I only beable to fly in my dreams?Dreaming to be Free by xHardwirex
Are my dreams the only place where I can be me?
The only place where I can be free?
Are my Dreams the only place where I won’t be a disappointment to her?
Am I only capable of dreaming about flying next to her?
Rainbow Dash, I dream to fly with you!
The door to the doctors office opened with ominous creek causing Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo to look up from their idle conversation. Dr. Clean Bandage walked in with a clipboard in his mouth. With an uneasy look on his face he meandered over to the chair that sat across the room from the two pegasi. He pulled the stool to him when he got to it and sat up on it. While holding the clipboard in one hoof he skimmed over the paper’s contents momentarily and then looked at the orange mare.
“Ms. Scootaloo, I regret to inform you, you will never beable to fly.” he said as sympathetically as he could.
“What!?” Scootaloo shouted.
“Doc, are you sure?” Rainbow Dash
Forgive MeI'm tired. Why are you coming in so late in the night?Forgive Me by redpinkandwhite
What is it that you want from me, my son? An apology?
Oh, that's what you want, then? An apology for my actions so many years ago?
There is no way I can apologize for what happened. You were already torn from my arms. You were already stolen off. You were already reared by another. No mere words I speak now will be able to undo that. Nothing I can do will bring you back into my arms.
How could I ever apologize for doing something so egregiously wrong?
I left you behind.
I left you behind!
I didn't mean to. Of course I didn't mean to! You were our boy who would grow into our son. Our precious baby.
Once the Great War started, once the blood of our brothers began to guise our true purpose, my priorities began to shift in the wrong direction. I could not think evenly when our--my--people, those whom I had sworn to protect until my dying breath, were being slaughtered. They became the priority.
I had to evacuate them. Y
Demonic ButterflyDemonic Butterfly by DawnArdent
Those who don't get into the habit of dying frequently wither inside - and death comes all at once to finally free them from their fear.
- Dreamer's Handbook
Its wings laced with the shimmer of demonic energies, the butterfly flittered not-so-innocently toward the rabid priest. With a strong, unnatural push, it flew inside the frothing mouth and continued down the windpipe. The possessed human started coughing, but the obstruction in his airway remained lodged, as if held there by an invisible hand.
Unlike other demonic entities, Rremine learned to control the rage in her eons of existence. She didn't forsake it, of course, but she preferred to express her aggression with refined elegance rather than clumsy brutality.
Guiding the butterfly from the overgrown park in the abandoned city all the way to the edge of the desert required patience that not many of her kind exhibited. But, she enjoyed gliding her consciousness over the urban jungle - so much life, so much strife, yet so little
Eternal SeptemberEternal September by DawnArdent
Some animals sacrifice themselves for the good of their group and species. Others do the reverse.
- The Bad Stuff, Dreamer's Handbook
John materialized on top of a tall cliff. It wasn't a teleportation spell - his consciousness could surely handle the in-between places. He sat down on a nearby rock.
Such a tranquil view. The local horizon and the fractally recurring lush vegetation soothed him. John occasionally brought his pupils here; perspective helps with thinking.
Despite the view, he gazed inward. Unlike many who reacted to the height with a love-hate kind of fear, John saw the height as a representation of distance he felt within his own inner being.
On one end of the spectrum was his analytical self, almost sterile of all emotions. John owed his survival to it, yet such mental clarity required the sacrifice of almost all else. Since his students knew only this side, they called him 'Mr. Smith' - his preference for tailored suits only reinforced the stereotype.
From Shadows: The Old Allies (PilotIdea)Chapter I: Deja VuFrom Shadows: The Old Allies (PilotIdea) by Apache1342
On a C-130 supply plane bound for Tunisia from North Carolina, 10 ALA soldiers were onboard with pounds of food, water, and building materials. These planes were hard to find after the wars as most of them had been shot down over a once shadow-occupied United States.
They'd all heard the news in Europe and the United Kingdom about the Russian, French, American, British, and Canadian shadows, but didn't pay any mind to it. "All it is: just a bunch of fakers wanting some dumb post-war fame."
Three-fourths of the way across the Atlantic Ocean, the radar picks up two signatures in front of him. The soldiers patiently walk to gunner positions around the plane as they felt it was no hurry to do it. High from the sky came two fighters flying right beside it. They were both Hawker Hurricanes, looking as the Mark I model, but in a monotonic color. Quickly after, more came in until the C-130 was surrounded by 12 Hawker Hurricane
Flashback - 1991I was inbetween emotions.Flashback - 1991 by Apache1342
"I was at home alone, doing my homework when my mom comes running in. 'Ellie, I have a surprise for you.' 'What is it?' 'Try to guess it.' 'Is it a dog?' 'No.' 'Is it a cat?' 'No.' 'Is it a hint?' 'It's the same as you.' 'I know! It's a-' 'What's wrong?' 'Is it a boy or a girl?' 'Ellie, say hello to your baby brother, Elijah.'
Divine Blood Extracurricular: Errands - TeaserDivine Blood Extracurricular: Errands - Teaser by Thrythlind
A furtive movement out of the corner of his eyes attracted the attention of a young man of about sixteen years, perhaps a little older. He was already quite tall, with a lanky, wiry build that spoke of lots of physical activity on top of a diet that had oftentimes been less than sufficient. A half-circular scar was visible over his left eye but it was hardly the only injury that had left a mark on his body in his short but already full years. A fact which his choice of gym clothes today was making people aware of.
Until now, the young man had been wearing a light but long-sleeved running shirt for the period of physical education. Since it was just slightly oversized, the wrinkles of the shirt had had the effect of concealing just a little bit the play of his muscles as he moved. It wasn’t exactly the most effective way to hide what his intentions were, but all the tiny efforts added up in the end. Today, however, his wardrobe had come up lacking, a result of the loss of some clo
Race Among Race'sRace Among Race'sRace Among Race's by KelaLewis-Morin
Racism will always be a complex and hazardous topic.
It is something that is deeply implanted within our logic.
It may be expressed in the form of a humorous joke.
Or may be intentionally announced in order to provoke.
Because they know that it is guaranteed to get a reaction.
And we impulsively give them that much needed satisfaction.
Somehow we feel the need to defend our specified skin colour.
We fight fire with fire to defend our heritage with misguided honour.
That's why racism can never be vanquished or become extinct.
It is how the world works and even if we don't say it, we will always think
How the colour of another person's skin affects their general demeanour.
Even though the colour of a person's skin is simply just a miniscule feature.
Even in jest we are giving this taboo topic the oxygen it needs to survive.
Equality is nothing but a well rehearsed illusion, which will never be truly alive.
The Racial EquationThe Racial Equation.The Racial Equation by KelaLewis-Morin
We are all born from the same =.
÷ by colour, shade and tone.
X by the errors of the past.
Only +'s to the difficulty life today.
UtopiaUtopiaUtopia by KelaLewis-Morin
I raise my head and tilt it towards the skies.
Open my imagination and close my eyes.
Envision a place where I would rather be.
As far away from any judgmental eye that can see.
A place where all my dilemmas become obsolete.
Free from my troubles and the expanding concrete
Confinement that I am forced to exist in.
A place where it doesn't matter if you don't fit in.
A place where nothing but a smile is required.
Where I can think and write to my heart's desire.
A place free from any physical and mental disposition.
Free from the conflicting and persuasive power of religion.
A place where there are adjustable weather conditions.
Where there is no need to enforce any laws or restrictions.
A place where everyone can do exactly what they wanted.
Where everyone would feel appreciated, accepted and wanted.
A place where money is just an undefined and unwritten word.
Where it is promised no natural or manmade disaster will ever occur.
A place that even the man upstairs would speak high
HerstoryHer-storyHerstory by KelaLewis-Morin
I can't describe to you how much I love her.
I actually feel nauseous just at the thought of her even thinking of another.
In all my short life I never even thought I would ever discover.
A woman that I would be proud to name as my baby's mother.
I know that if I were to hypothetically loose everything, we would still have each other
And it is my chest only that she will caress under the cover.
Of course we are bound to argue and I will occasionally confront her.
Although I might not say it, I might even imagine her being someone else's lover.
And it's because of my insecurity and paranoia I end up making her suffer.
I'm just so used to everything going wrong sometimes I forget there is a book underneath every cover.
But the books I have read and heard about have forced me to think twice and not even bother.
They teach me to remain loyal to my masculine nature and become the perpetually lusting hunter.
That cares only about himself and disregards all others.
However that is n
the only godEating amphetamines,the only god by sunshinegypsy
like candy from your fingers, always your fingers
in the chair by the window,
always waiting for the sun to set, for the
slow creep of time to bring your voice
I will race you downhill, I will
meet you there, below the dark,
I will tell my secrets to strangers, wonder when
you will break,
break me open with your knowing fingers,
not the neighbours, the nurse asking me if I am
feeling, anymore, the girl behind the counter
at the drugstore, her kind hands over mine,
If you can count my ribs,
will you love me, or stay, the
whispering to each other
in the night.
Rainy August Bank HolidayI could only ever have fallen in love with you in August,Rainy August Bank Holiday by Anarkhos
when all the world is overseas, and unable to say
no no no no no no no until I stick two fingers to the world,
and do you anyway,
or worse, say 'oh Bella' and make me halve my heart.
It could only ever have been on a rainy bank holiday weekend in August,
the two of us tangled in the sheets,
hearing the rain on the windowpanes and snuggling closer together.
Only on a day like this could a heart be so completely
It could only ever have been you, my love, to capture my heart,
and steal my every breath. Your red-gold hair, sea blue eyes
and the way you bite your lower lip.
Your cheeky grin, hiding all those lies you told, and proving me
a weak-kneed fool.
Yes, all it takes is a rainy bank holiday weekened in August,
a girl and a boy, and a soul is sold for the price of an hour,
a long eternal hour.
And it is worth it.
The Last SunriseThe Last SunriseThe Last Sunrise by Ravenwolfe0
Rough Draft 1
The sunrise that morning was beautiful rising above the horizon with first a hint of red growing ever so slowly into orange. The mountains standing in the distance between the dawn and myself was the most wondrous I had ever seen. The Pain had begun with the first glimmer of morning and spread as the sun rose. The forest below the mountains glittered with the emerald sparkling of dew-spattered greenery of spring. The pain had spread throughout my body by that time and I was writhing in agony while watching this most beautiful of sunrises. It spread even further highlighting the grasslands past the forest, the pain was so intense my clothes were smoldering due to the reaction of the suns rays with my body. I was smoldering, blistering, my skin was beginning to bubble because the fluids of my body were boiling. Then the sun hit me full on with it's cleansing radiance. The agony was so unspeakable I thought it would never end. My flesh began to burn
|List updated 10/13/15|
Alaska Quarterly Review: www.uaa.alaska.edu/aqr/
American Literary Review: www.engl.unt.edu/alr/
American Poetry Review: www.aprweb.org/
The Apple Valley Review: www.applevalleyreview.com/
The Bicycle Review: www.thebicyclereview.net
Fried Chicken and Coffee: www.friedchickenandcoffee.com/
Hobo Camp Review: hobocampreview.blogspot.com
Kenning Journal: www.kenningjournal.com/
The Legendary: www.downdirtyword.com/
Lighted Place: www.lightedplace.com/
Los Angeles Review: redhen.org/losangelesreview/su…
Melancholy Hyperbole: melancholyhyperbole.com/
The Missing Slate: themissingslate.com/
The Neglected Ratio: theneglectedratio.wordpress.co…
New Verse News: newversenews.blogspot.com/
News Review: www.newsreview.com/sacramento/…
Prairie Schooner: prairieschooner.unl.edu/submis…
Prism Review: sites.laverne.edu/prism-review…
The Susquehanna Review (for undergrads): www.susquehannareview.com/
Third Wednesday: www.thirdwednesday.org/
three drops from a cauldron: threedropspoetry.co.uk/
Up the Staircase Quarterly: upthestaircase.org/
Verandah Literary Journal: www.deakin.edu.au/arts-ed/vera…
Voicemail Poems: voicemailpoems.org/
The Whitefish Review: www.whitefishreview.org/index.…
Words Dance: wordsdance.com/
Your Daily Poem: yourdailypoem.com/page/guideli…
List of publishers who accept online submissions: andromeda.rutgers.edu/~lcrew/p…
Poets&Writers Magazine online list of Literary Magazines (you can sign up for it through email or order print copies - it has valuable resources, including conferences, workshops, grants and contests). www.pw.org/magazine
Super mini chapbooks - Origami Poems: www.origamipoems.com
Events BoarddA Events:A list of Eastern style publications, put together by
And check out our own SadisticIceCream's journal for more options! sadisticicecream.deviantart.co…