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Search results for tag #literature

[?]Isaac Asimov » 🤖 🌐
@CuratedAsimov@mastodon.social

"In my fiction I am careful to make everything probable and to tie up all loose ends. Real life is not hampered by such considerations."

    [?]Assoc for Scottish Literature » 🌐
    @scotlit@mastodon.scot

    Whatever the difference is, it all began
    the day we woke up face-to-face like lovers
    and his four-day-old smile dawned on him again,
    possessed him, till it would not fall or waver…

    —Don Paterson, “Waking with Russell”
    Selected Poems (Faber, 2012)

    A poem for Father’s Day

    faber.co.uk/product/9780571281

    Waking with Russell by Don Paterson Whatever the difference is, it all began the day we woke up face-to-face like lovers and his four-day-old smile dawned on him again, possessed him, till it would not fall or waver; and I pitched back not my old hard-pressed grin but his own smile, or one I’d rediscovered. Dear son, I was mezzo del cammin and the true path was as lost to me as ever when you cut in front and lit it as you ran. See how the true gift never leaves the giver: returned and redelivered, it rolled on until the smile poured through us like a river. How fine, I thought, this waking amongst men! I kissed your mouth and pledged myself forever.

    Alt...Waking with Russell by Don Paterson Whatever the difference is, it all began the day we woke up face-to-face like lovers and his four-day-old smile dawned on him again, possessed him, till it would not fall or waver; and I pitched back not my old hard-pressed grin but his own smile, or one I’d rediscovered. Dear son, I was mezzo del cammin and the true path was as lost to me as ever when you cut in front and lit it as you ran. See how the true gift never leaves the giver: returned and redelivered, it rolled on until the smile poured through us like a river. How fine, I thought, this waking amongst men! I kissed your mouth and pledged myself forever.

      [?]Assoc for Scottish Literature » 🌐
      @scotlit@mastodon.scot

      Fade then, light; but longing never will.
      Midsummer makes the west spectacular
      and even gives its last glow a show
      of reluctance, as if it had postponed
      midnight…

      —Edwin Morgan, “21 June”
      Published in CATHURES (Carcanet, 2002)

      carcanet.co.uk/9781857546170/c

      Edwin Morgan 21 June Fade then, light; but longing never will. Midsummer makes the west spectacular and even gives its last glow a show of reluctance, as if it had postponed midnight. But midnight is too faithful. You're back among the black, the black, you're down and fit to drown, to drown, you're padding into nightmare town. You haven't got a house, a bed-light, there are no clocks or telephones out there, you are on your own, you have a large panic waiting to break through your chest, you are panting, you count, as it arrives, each brimming pang. What a clutch of sheets! What a parody of pain! The longest day, the night is not so long. You fling back the curtains, the morning sky is like a meadow. What is it you want? I don't know. You cannot walk there. No. So what do you want? The morning, perhaps, and then I want the day, another day.

      Alt...Edwin Morgan 21 June Fade then, light; but longing never will. Midsummer makes the west spectacular and even gives its last glow a show of reluctance, as if it had postponed midnight. But midnight is too faithful. You're back among the black, the black, you're down and fit to drown, to drown, you're padding into nightmare town. You haven't got a house, a bed-light, there are no clocks or telephones out there, you are on your own, you have a large panic waiting to break through your chest, you are panting, you count, as it arrives, each brimming pang. What a clutch of sheets! What a parody of pain! The longest day, the night is not so long. You fling back the curtains, the morning sky is like a meadow. What is it you want? I don't know. You cannot walk there. No. So what do you want? The morning, perhaps, and then I want the day, another day.

        [?]Assoc for Scottish Literature » 🌐
        @scotlit@mastodon.scot

        Dheigheadh sinn a dh’iasgach,
        mi fhèin is m’ athair,
        is lìonadh sinn an eathar le
        peilichean de rionnach, liutha,
        is dheigheadh sinn timcheall a’ bhaile
        gu gach nàbaidh gus am biodh na peilichean falamh…

        —Iain MacRath, “Dheigheadh sinn a dh’iasgach”
        published in Don’t. Even. Ask. Too. Hot.: New Writing Scotland 42 (ASL, 2024)

        asls.org.uk/publications/books

        Iain MacRath Dheigheadh sinn a dh’iasgach Dheigheadh sinn a dh’iasgach, mi fhèin is m’ athair, is lìonadh sinn an eathar le peilichean de rionnach, liutha, is dheigheadh sinn timcheall a’ bhaile gu gach nàbaidh gus am biodh na peilichean falamh. Chunnaic mi m’ athair an raoir, ged a chaochail e o chionn fichead bliadhna. Chunnaic mi air na naidheachdan e seacaid-teasairginn timcheall air is an eathar làn, làn de dhaoine.

        Alt...Iain MacRath Dheigheadh sinn a dh’iasgach Dheigheadh sinn a dh’iasgach, mi fhèin is m’ athair, is lìonadh sinn an eathar le peilichean de rionnach, liutha, is dheigheadh sinn timcheall a’ bhaile gu gach nàbaidh gus am biodh na peilichean falamh. Chunnaic mi m’ athair an raoir, ged a chaochail e o chionn fichead bliadhna. Chunnaic mi air na naidheachdan e seacaid-teasairginn timcheall air is an eathar làn, làn de dhaoine.

        Iain MacRae We’d go fishing We’d go fishing, me and my father, and we’d fill the dinghy with pails of mackerel, lythe, and we’d go round the village to each neighbour till each pail was empty. I saw my father last night, though he died some twenty years ago. I saw him on the news a safety jacket around him and the dinghy full, full of people.

        Alt...Iain MacRae We’d go fishing We’d go fishing, me and my father, and we’d fill the dinghy with pails of mackerel, lythe, and we’d go round the village to each neighbour till each pail was empty. I saw my father last night, though he died some twenty years ago. I saw him on the news a safety jacket around him and the dinghy full, full of people.

          [?]Assoc for Scottish Literature » 🌐
          @scotlit@mastodon.scot

          In the house where he sleeps
          let my ears
          be the leaves at the window.

          Let the bulbs of the lamps
          be my eyes
          on the animal street…

          —Miriam Nash, “Prayer for My Father as a Child”
          published in All the Prayers in the House (Bloodaxe, 2017)

          bloodaxebooks.com/ecs/product/

          Prayer for My Father as a Child by Miriam Nash In the house where he sleeps let my ears be the leaves at the window. Let the bulbs of the lamps be my eyes on the animal street. Let the shadows that harbour my unborn body stir when harm is stirring. I’ll sleep in the drawer with the knives. I’ll turn in the locks.

          Alt...Prayer for My Father as a Child by Miriam Nash In the house where he sleeps let my ears be the leaves at the window. Let the bulbs of the lamps be my eyes on the animal street. Let the shadows that harbour my unborn body stir when harm is stirring. I’ll sleep in the drawer with the knives. I’ll turn in the locks.

            [?]Book dedications bot » 🤖 🌐
            @dedication_bot@stefanbohacek.online

            Not a Happy Family by Shari Lapena

            To the heroes of the pandemic—the scientists, the medical personnel, the frontline workers everywhere—thank you

            Alt...To the heroes of the pandemic—the scientists, the medical personnel, the frontline workers everywhere—thank you

              [?]Book dedications bot » 🤖 🌐
              @dedication_bot@stefanbohacek.online

              Blood in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 and Its Legacy by Heather Ann Thompson

              For all who were killed at the Attica Correctional Facility more than four decades ago William Allen Edward Menefee Elliot Barkley Jose Mentijo John Barnes Milton Menyweather Edward T. Cunningham John Monteleone John D'Arcangelo Richard Moore Bernard Davis Carlos Prescott Allen Durham Michael Privitera William Fuller William Quinn Melvin Gray Raymond (Ramon) Rivera Elmer Hardie James Robinson Robert Henigan Santiago Santos Kenneth Hess Barry Schwartz Thomas Hicks Harold Thomas Emanuel Johnson Carl Valone Herbert Jones Rafael Vasquez Richard Lewis Melvin Ware Charles Lundy Elon Werner Kenneth Malloy Ronald Werner Gidell Martin Willie West William McKinney Harrison Whalen Lorenzo McNeil Alfred Williams Samuel Melville — And for all who were wounded, maimed, tortured, and scarred on September 13, 1971. A list too long to recount here.

              Alt...For all who were killed at the Attica Correctional Facility more than four decades ago William Allen Edward Menefee Elliot Barkley Jose Mentijo John Barnes Milton Menyweather Edward T. Cunningham John Monteleone John D'Arcangelo Richard Moore Bernard Davis Carlos Prescott Allen Durham Michael Privitera William Fuller William Quinn Melvin Gray Raymond (Ramon) Rivera Elmer Hardie James Robinson Robert Henigan Santiago Santos Kenneth Hess Barry Schwartz Thomas Hicks Harold Thomas Emanuel Johnson Carl Valone Herbert Jones Rafael Vasquez Richard Lewis Melvin Ware Charles Lundy Elon Werner Kenneth Malloy Ronald Werner Gidell Martin Willie West William McKinney Harrison Whalen Lorenzo McNeil Alfred Williams Samuel Melville — And for all who were wounded, maimed, tortured, and scarred on September 13, 1971. A list too long to recount here.

                [?]Fictograma.com » 🌐
                @fictograma@mastodon.social

                "El Quijote de la Mancha - Cap. 11": "¡Qué ventura la nuestra, Sancho! Estos cabreros nos reciben con buen ánimo, nos sientan sobre pieles de oveja y comparten..."
                fictograma.com/d/3283-el-ingen

                  [?]Fictograma.com » 🌐
                  @fictograma@mastodon.social

                  "El Indio": "La muerte del Nahual llenó de satisfacción la ranchería. Temido brujo y transformista, apareció en su cama destrozado como si lo hubieran cazado siendo tigre. Dicen que..."
                  fictograma.com/d/3284-el-indio

                    [?]Fictograma.com » 🌐
                    @fictograma@mastodon.social

                    En "Hamlet": "Esta noche represento un drama ante el Rey. Una escena copia el asesinato de mi padre. Observa su rostro, Horacio. Si no palidece, el fantasma mintió. ¡El teatro será mi trampa para cazar la conciencia del rey! 🗡️
                    fictograma.com/d/3285-hamlet-a

                      [?]The Vulgar Tongue » 🤖 🌐
                      @TheVulgarTongue@zirk.us

                      KNIGHT OF THE TRENCHER. A great eater.

                      A selection from Francis Grose’s “Dictionary Of The Vulgar Tongue” (1785)

                      --
                      @histodons

                      Image imitating a page from an old document, text (as in main toot): KNIGHT OF THE TRENCHER. A great eater. A selection from Francis Grose’s “Dictionary Of The Vulgar Tongue” (1785)

                      Alt...Image imitating a page from an old document, text (as in main toot): KNIGHT OF THE TRENCHER. A great eater. A selection from Francis Grose’s “Dictionary Of The Vulgar Tongue” (1785)

                        [?]Isaac Asimov » 🤖 🌐
                        @CuratedAsimov@mastodon.social

                        "Once you've dissected a joke, you're about where you are when you've dissected a frog. It's dead."

                          [?]Book dedications bot » 🤖 🌐
                          @dedication_bot@stefanbohacek.online

                          Grievers by adrienne maree brown

                          This novella is dedicated to Detroit, and the ancestors who inspired these characters.

                          Alt...This novella is dedicated to Detroit, and the ancestors who inspired these characters.

                            [?]CNI_CNoticias Internacionales » 🌐
                            @CNI_CNoticiasInternacionales@mastodon.social

                            Aunque hoy lleves responsabilidades de adulto, dentro de ti sigue viviendo ese niño que solo quería escuchar: “Todo va a estar bien”. 💗
                            fictograma.com/d/3280-codigo-r

                              [?]CNI_CNoticias Internacionales » 🌐
                              @CNI_CNoticiasInternacionales@mastodon.social

                              Capítulo 2 • Parte 4 - Desayuno, confesiones de asesinato, baile lento y una entrega salvaje. Felipe ya no se va. Alejandro ya no quiere que se vaya.
                              fictograma.com/d/3281-punto-y-

                                [?]CNI_CNoticias Internacionales » 🌐
                                @CNI_CNoticiasInternacionales@mastodon.social

                                "El Cuerno del Toro" – Capítulo 6: Modern Day Killers

                                Mérida recibe su misión más difícil hasta ahora: cruzar la línea entre sobrevivir y matar. Entre pandillas, venganza y dilemas...
                                fictograma.com/d/3282-el-cuern

                                  [?]CNI_CNoticias Internacionales » 🌐
                                  @CNI_CNoticiasInternacionales@mastodon.social

                                  "El Quijote de la Mancha - Cap. 11": "¡Qué ventura la nuestra, Sancho! Estos cabreros nos reciben con buen ánimo, nos sientan sobre pieles de oveja..."
                                  fictograma.com/d/3283-el-ingen

                                    [?]CNI_CNoticias Internacionales » 🌐
                                    @CNI_CNoticiasInternacionales@mastodon.social

                                    "El Indio": "La muerte del Nahual llenó de satisfacción la ranchería. Temido brujo y transformista, apareció en su cama destrozado como si lo hubieran cazado..."
                                    fictograma.com/d/3284-el-indio

                                      [?]CNI_CNoticias Internacionales » 🌐
                                      @CNI_CNoticiasInternacionales@mastodon.social

                                      En "Hamlet": "Esta noche represento un drama ante el Rey. Una escena copia el asesinato de mi padre. Observa su rostro, Horacio. Si no palidece, el fantasma mintió...! 🗡️
                                      fictograma.com/d/3285-hamlet-a

                                        [?]Isaac Asimov » 🤖 🌐
                                        @CuratedAsimov@mastodon.social

                                        "Titles are an important part of a story and I take considerable care in choosing one. In fact, I cannot start a story until I have chosen a title."

                                          [?]The Japan Times » 🌐
                                          @thejapantimes@mastodon.social

                                          Kodaiji Wakuden, a two-Michelin-starred "kaiseki" (Japanese haute cuisine) restaurant in Kyoto, has come up with a new seasoning for its acclaimed dishes: classical Japanese poetry. japantimes.co.jp/life/2026/06/

                                            [?]Book dedications bot » 🤖 🌐
                                            @dedication_bot@stefanbohacek.online

                                            The Happily Ever After: A Memoir of an Unlikely Romance Novelist by Avi Steinberg

                                            To my A and my Z

                                            Alt...To my A and my Z

                                              [?]Bob the Traveler » 🤖 🌐
                                              @bobthetraveler@mastodon.world

                                              The author Enn Vetemaa, born OTD in 1936, has been referred to as "the unofficial master of the Estonian Modernist short novel" cromwell-intl.com/travel/eston

                                                [?]Jake's Flea Market » 🌐
                                                @jakedepeuterpoetics.com@jakedepeuterpoetics.com

                                                my father could afford to pay the fare

                                                my father could afford to pay the fare
                                                the horizon ahead was a curtain closed
                                                behind the curtain   in the next day lay
                                                wittenberg and that winter two winters before
                                                the carriage that brought me from 
                                                summer and a place where 
                                                there was nothing for me to do   there was
                                                a draft that entered those long days
                                                in from around the windows
                                                in from around the doors
                                                in from where the walls joined walls joined
                                                the top     joined the floor that draft entered
                                                in through the spaces between the threads of my blouse
                                                between the threads of my trousers
                                                that entire life through i shivered
                                                i wanted a blanket     a hooded robe
                                                i asked that the carriage be stopped
                                                stopped at a roadside inn or at a tavern
                                                that wind     that draft that entered
                                                in   it would have diminished
                                                i could have warmed   stepped out   eaten 

                                                but the driver whipped
                                                the sweat on those horses even more
                                                and the turn of those carriage wheels never stopped
                                                ‘til the carriage skidded no     sledded into wittenberg
                                                wittenberg grounded in snow
                                                the clothes i wore
                                                that i’d outgrown in the summer left behind i   i shrank
                                                i had to employ a hand to hold
                                                my trousers up from down in the snow around my ankles
                                                i was so hungry
                                                and wittenberg was just another carriage 
                                                worse than the first
                                                but there was philosophy to distract
                                                from the misery and there were books to read
                                                and my father could afford to pay the fare

                                                [?]Fictograma.com » 🌐
                                                @fictograma@mastodon.social

                                                Capítulo 2 • Parte 4Desayuno, confesiones de asesinato, baile lento y una entrega salvaje. Felipe ya no se va. Alejandro ya no quiere que se vaya.
                                                fictograma.com/d/3281-punto-y-

                                                  [?]Fictograma.com » 🌐
                                                  @fictograma@mastodon.social

                                                  "El Cuerno del Toro" – Capítulo 6: Modern Day Killers

                                                  Mérida recibe su misión más difícil hasta ahora: cruzar la línea entre sobrevivir y matar. Entre pandillas, venganza y dilemas...
                                                  fictograma.com/d/3282-el-cuern

                                                    [?]Fictograma.com » 🌐
                                                    @fictograma@mastodon.social

                                                    Aunque hoy lleves responsabilidades de adulto, dentro de ti sigue viviendo ese niño que solo quería escuchar: “Todo va a estar bien”. 💗
                                                    fictograma.com/d/3280-codigo-r

                                                      [?]Walt » 🌐
                                                      @astralcomputing@bookstodon.com

                                                      Weird Tales vol 11 number 04 (April 1928) - featured story: The Jewel of Seven Stones by Seabury Quinn.



                                                      @books @scifi @Scifiart @sciencefiction

                                                      astralcomputing.com

                                                      Cover art by C. C. Senf.

                                                      Weird Tales vol 11 number 04 (April 1928) - featured story: The Jewel of Seven Stones by Seabury Quinn. Cover art by C. C. Senf. In the foreground, a woman stands facing left with her arms raised toward her head, her slender fingers reaching toward a golden, circular headpiece that rests upon her brow. She wears a sleeveless, light green gown made of a smooth fabric that features subtle folds and shadows defining the curves of her torso, paired with a structured red bodice that features a dark, heart-shaped ornament at the center of the chest and intricate gold-colored trim tracing the neckline and edges. Her dark hair is pulled back tightly, revealing a necklace of large, dark, spherical beads that hang against her neck. Behind her, a large, semi-transparent figure of a man with long, flowing dark hair and a pale, featureless face looms, his large hands raised near his temples in a posture that mirrors the woman's gesture. This figure appears as a greyish-white, ethereal silhouette, with limbs that are slightly blurred against a dark, shadowed background. To the right, a textured, reddish-brown surface or wall is visible, showing irregular vertical patterns and cracks. Scattered within the dark background are small, indistinct white flecks and faint, light-colored shapes that resemble distant sparks or particles. The golden elements of the headpiece catch a faint, singular light source, creating bright yellow highlights against the deeper ochre tones of the metal.

                                                      Alt...Weird Tales vol 11 number 04 (April 1928) - featured story: The Jewel of Seven Stones by Seabury Quinn. Cover art by C. C. Senf. In the foreground, a woman stands facing left with her arms raised toward her head, her slender fingers reaching toward a golden, circular headpiece that rests upon her brow. She wears a sleeveless, light green gown made of a smooth fabric that features subtle folds and shadows defining the curves of her torso, paired with a structured red bodice that features a dark, heart-shaped ornament at the center of the chest and intricate gold-colored trim tracing the neckline and edges. Her dark hair is pulled back tightly, revealing a necklace of large, dark, spherical beads that hang against her neck. Behind her, a large, semi-transparent figure of a man with long, flowing dark hair and a pale, featureless face looms, his large hands raised near his temples in a posture that mirrors the woman's gesture. This figure appears as a greyish-white, ethereal silhouette, with limbs that are slightly blurred against a dark, shadowed background. To the right, a textured, reddish-brown surface or wall is visible, showing irregular vertical patterns and cracks. Scattered within the dark background are small, indistinct white flecks and faint, light-colored shapes that resemble distant sparks or particles. The golden elements of the headpiece catch a faint, singular light source, creating bright yellow highlights against the deeper ochre tones of the metal.

                                                        [?](Older) RJT » 🌐
                                                        @one@subconscioussignature.earth

                                                        Badger scion with coronal thorns

                                                        subspacewagon.systems/badger-s

                                                        _____
                                                        archive.org/search?query=creat
                                                        subspacewagon.io
                                                        selections.directory
                                                        _____

                                                        @poetry
                                                        @writingcommunity

                                                          [?]Book dedications bot » 🤖 🌐
                                                          @dedication_bot@stefanbohacek.online

                                                          Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home by Leah Lax

                                                          for Mom I never did let her read this. And for covered women everywhere.

                                                          Alt...for Mom I never did let her read this. And for covered women everywhere.

                                                            [?]MediaFaro Magazine » 🌐
                                                            @mf_magazine@mastodon.mediafaro.org

                                                            After 1200 years, the famed tree that hid Robin Hood has finally died.

                                                            It’s not the first time the legendary oak has been declared dead.

                                                            On previous occasions, fears were raised only for the tree to stubbornly leaf out again each spring. Not this year.

                                                            mediafaro.org/article/20260619

                                                              [?]The Vulgar Tongue » 🤖 🌐
                                                              @TheVulgarTongue@zirk.us

                                                              KNIGHT AND BARROW PIG, more hog than gentleman. A saying of any low pretender to precedency.

                                                              A selection from Francis Grose’s “Dictionary Of The Vulgar Tongue” (1785)

                                                              --
                                                              @histodons

                                                              Image imitating a page from an old document, text (as in main toot): KNIGHT AND BARROW PIG, more hog than gentleman. A saying of any low pretender to precedency. A selection from Francis Grose’s “Dictionary Of The Vulgar Tongue” (1785)

                                                              Alt...Image imitating a page from an old document, text (as in main toot): KNIGHT AND BARROW PIG, more hog than gentleman. A saying of any low pretender to precedency. A selection from Francis Grose’s “Dictionary Of The Vulgar Tongue” (1785)

                                                                [?]Isaac Asimov » 🤖 🌐
                                                                @CuratedAsimov@mastodon.social

                                                                "Consider the most famous pure dystopian tale of modern times, 1984, by George Orwell (1903-1950), published in 1948 (the same year in which Walden Two was published). I consider it an abominably poor book. It made a big hit (in my opinion) only because it rode the tidal wave of cold war sentiment in the United States."

                                                                  [?]Bob the Traveler » 🤖 🌐
                                                                  @bobthetraveler@mastodon.world

                                                                  French author Jules de Goncourt died OTD in 1870 of a stroke brught on by syphilis; the Prix Goncourt is awarded annually in his honor for "the best and most imaginitive prose work of the year" cromwell-intl.com/travel/franc

                                                                    [?]Book dedications bot » 🤖 🌐
                                                                    @dedication_bot@stefanbohacek.online

                                                                    A Single Rose by Muriel Barbery

                                                                    to Chevalier, always to my dead

                                                                    Alt...to Chevalier, always to my dead

                                                                      [?]Isaac Asimov » 🤖 🌐
                                                                      @CuratedAsimov@mastodon.social

                                                                      "I get a certain pleasure in knowing that I live not merely in a city but in Manhattan, the center of New York City, a region so unique in many ways that I honestly believe that Earth is divided into halves: Manhattan and non-Manhattan."

                                                                        [?]Book dedications bot » 🤖 🌐
                                                                        @dedication_bot@stefanbohacek.online

                                                                        Hostile Takeover: A Love Story by Phyllis J. Piano

                                                                        This book is dedicated to my mother, Marjorie, who always wanted to be a writer.

                                                                        Alt... This book is dedicated to my mother, Marjorie, who always wanted to be a writer.

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