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PartingsMy brave and noble friend,
I had not done you well.
I've learnt now not to play pretend,
Nor pretty lies to tell.
Compassion was all that I could spend.
Dear unlover, this truest knell--
No matter how I might twist, or bend.
--tell me it will undo the spell.
Tell me that your heart will mend.
The Colonel's regiment was marching. It was marching against an enemy no one would remember, in a time no one would remember, in a place that would be beyond recall or desire once its mines were depleted. Yet still the regiment was marching. Not together, because this was guerilla warfare— a term that had long since ceased to bring images of banal natives and exotic jungles to mind and come, instead, to mean there were two kinds of men: careful and dead. They were lucky about as often as struck by lightning.
Thus was the regiment split into tip-toeing battalions creeping toward their destination. This was for the best. Grumbling was what soldiers did best, and splitting them up meant the Colonel didn't have to hear all of them at it at once.
Since when, they wondered, did the Colonel roll over for his superiors? Since when did the laconic, ponderous man agree to missions like this: slaughtering and razing a village of rebels?
They bitched and they moaned and t
The Virtue Of Deception Part III of IIIThe assassin within Investigator Ulisse was poised in the center of an underground chamber secreted beneath the Ghileswick Mariner's bank. His dissimulated features hadn't changed despite their surroundings, and his arms were crossed over his broad chest in an expression that admitted no fault for the relocation of his target, Desi Consentio. He had removed the deerstalker and great cloak, but his faithful pistol dangled from the holster at his side.
The seven top officials of the Quatronne family didn't seem to approve of his choice of weapons, but neither could they deny that he was their most reliable emissary. They were dressed, typically, in an array of morning suits and fanciful hats, many with signature rings on their fingers that cost more than an Investigator made in his prime. Said rings tapped idly at the round mahogany table circling the speaker-- Ulisse, in this case-- and their faces were in the shadows. Yet another gimmick belonging to the various mind-games they used to
The Virtue of Deception Part II of IIIThe scraping of a key in the door, a heavy slam, and a scream of frustration announced Farley's return that evening. Young Risk was flushed with indignation, his clenched jaw quivering dangerously, the fury of his expression as he rounded the corner to the parlor such that he seemed ten years older beneath all the ruddy anger and glinting eyes. Not that Miss Coombes, perched coyly at his desk with her skirt arranged neatly about her, noticed. She was concentrating most studiously on a sheet of parchment, her stately wrist affecting the most solemn decrees over it in black. At sight of her Farley's vehement scowl quickly reverted to a leer, and he stamped over to fling himself down on the couch.
"I neglected to recall that you were here," he remarked scathingly. "Then, it's just as I predicted earlier."
Miss Coombes didn't so much as look up from her task. There was the continued scratching of a quill, and her voice was poised as could be as she ventured to ask, desultorily:
The Virtue Of Deception Part I of IIITonight Elzio of the Quatronne family was stationed on Hickory Street. His short but muscled frame was terse beneath his trenchcoat as he melded with the city's grime. This was easier said than done in the southern half of Ghileswick where only the wealthiest Ashlanders dwelt, isolated from the extorted hell they'd furbished in the northern Shidaran half. Oh, the weightier crimes and high stakes criminals eventually trickled down to this, the seat of legislation, and they'd left their mark in the gritty residue that dampened the prosperous neighborhood's streets, fulgid and ghoulish in the lamplight. However, it couldn't compare to the hair-raising adventure that was a stroll through the northern docks.
Elzio had begun his career as a petty thief, though. He preferred the simpler, more prevalent filth of the Shidarans, where his family's drug and arms trade resided. Easier to blend with the shadows when the people themselves had arranged their tenements in a manner befitting
Sufficient Unto the DayA figure from the lost generation, but decades too late,
winds up the street in tendered, forceful apathy.
It is hard to tell, whether this hollowed ghost walking
on hallowed ground is laughing or crying--
either way, it's been drowned by the screeching of the bellows
and the muting veils of cinders and ash.
Yet watch how our figure's eyes narrow lovingly at the flakes
of backbreaking sable snow, of embers shoveled,
of a father's sweating back, thin and scarred,
rippling in grotesque time to the spitting of those chimneys-- blackest chimneys!
Only the industrialist knows of prayer, of feeding the swine on the hill
in barest hopes they'll nuzzle a truffle or two down, that your
children can sit and imbibe the sweet Elysium, suckle on the milk
of Wisdom the squirming piglets know instead of breaking their stems
forcing their blossoms through the tarmac.
Our figure tears at this, its careening riance echoing through the city.
Oh dearest cynic, knowing not the irony of temperance and
An Examination of Self-Actualization in Modern ArtThe purpose of this paper is multi-faceted. My intention is to explore how modern art-forms such as literature, music, and graphic novels explore the surprisingly common theme of self-actualization. The second aspect of the paper, a comparison of the views between Western and Asian culture in which they prove as similar as Maslow projected, was inadvertent but inevitable given the resources at my disposal. However, before a comparison or an evaluation can be made, one must familiarize themselves with Maslow's original definitions of self-actualization and the empirical criticisms that have been made since.
Textbooks tend to gloss over Maslow's discovery. In general, they provide the information that self-actualization is the result of fulfilling all one's basic needs and leading a productive life, and that this in turn leads to an individual of good humor and creativity who acknowledges their limitations (Zimbardo, Johnson, &McCann, 2009). Papalia, Feldman, and Martorell go further to
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls--
chipped away by the wind,
and held together
by silk spindles;
cobwebs align them like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in an broken window
against the sun
where beads of rain
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
against the backdrop of a cemetery;
My eyes seek out the sermon
in close proximity,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light trickles
over the shade,
breathes a new glow over snuffed candles.
I feel the weight in these empty rows,
how a breath couldn't cease to be breath
in the midst of prayer.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More