The Bonfire

Search results for tag #literature

Rhiwiel aka TheSingDesigns » 🌐 2026-06-19
@TheSingDesigns@mastodon.social

📚️ "Ahawah“ by Regina Scheer relates the turbulent history of a house and its inhabitants in Berlin. A needed reminder to historical awareness delivered in a gentle way. #history #bookstodon #books #literature

BookShelves eBook Reader » 🌐 2026-06-19
@getbookshelves@mastodon.social

📖 Juneteenth Read: Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass

Born into slavery, Douglass taught himself to read and wrote this searing firsthand account of his journey to freedom. Published in 1845, it became a powerful voice in the abolitionist movement and remains essential American literature.

Read for free in BookShelves:
https://lk0.eu/bks19m

#Bookstodon #FediReads #FreeBooks #Classics #BookShelves #Juneteenth #FrederickDouglass #literature

Richard Littler » 🌐 2026-06-19
@Richard_Littler@mastodon.social

I had no idea that the poet John Donne was also in Thin Lizzy.

#poetry #books #literature

Alt...

Book: John Donne - The Complete English Poems Cover features portrait of Donne

Assoc for Scottish Literature » 🌐 2026-06-19
@scotlit@mastodon.scot

They crashed among the spider-nets
spluttering and breathing hoarsely,
chasing fish out of the water,
calling one another and disappearing…

—“Dolphins at Cochin” by poet, playwright & novelist Tom Buchan (1931–1995), born #OTD, 19 June

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/dolphins-cochin/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #20thcentury #naturepoetry #dolphins #Kochi

Alt...

Dolphins at Cochin Tom Buchan They crashed among the spider-nets spluttering and breathing hoarsely, chasing fish out of the water, calling one another and disappearing. Lime-green bellies and smiling mouths sliced upwards obliquely; calm humorous eyes regarded us for a moment and splashed back. Sea-marks of dolphins moved among the dozens of jockeying sails: a mile out, in the breaking waves, we could see the flash of more dolphins. On the bridge of our tanker the grey paint blistered in the heat; above us the siren mooed to come in at the jetty: the water green and translucent. The smell of crude oil, of ginger drying in the yards; piles of coloured fish; the creak of a wooden capstan, monkeys quarrelling on top of the parked cars. And suddenly there was a dolphin inside our slow bow-wave: revolving, amused, not realising our incomprehension of his vivid thoughts. Two dolphins came skidding round the point, screeched to a standstill blowing vapour and circling each other; then they raced on again, leaping. We watched them helplessly from our primitive element able only to think up cold metaphors or to anthropomorphize. But they wheeled – dolphins! their liquid backs, their arched fins moving steadily out from the shore towards the hilarious ocean.

Assoc for Scottish Literature » 🌐 2026-06-19
@scotlit@mastodon.scot

Pink sand and sandpipers pink in the setting
sun and pink granite and the pink swirl
of green waves: no mediterranean relics
here, no ruined amphitheatres, no amphorae,

no half-submerged statuary…

—Tom Buchan, “Camas Tuath”

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/camas-tuath/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #20thcentury #naturepoetry #Mull #Hebrides

Alt...

Camas Tuath Tom Buchan Pink sand and sandpipers pink in the setting sun and pink granite and the pink swirl of green waves: no mediterranean relics here, no ruined amphitheatres, no amphorae, no half-submerged statuary – only the children’s wet sand-pies and a standing stone, a druidic lingam standing for nothing anyone knows about nowadays, a stony finger, green with years, specific of an idea which was no doubt straight, strong and complex once, but is now obliterated by the hysterical cries of children and the birds’ pink squealing.

Diary of a Wanderer » 🌐 2026-06-19
@greatbenji.business.blog@greatbenji.business.blog

The road to Damascus -page 8

It's Friday night. Tired of being indoors with annoying roommates so I step outside to catch some fresh air, and suddenly remember the little park on the campus of a university behind my hostel. Lovers and benches. Singles like me are certainly not welcome into such spaces, yet I impose myself. In a far corner of the park were a church choral group rehearsing. There is everything in this park. Lovers kissing, sometimes caressing things they shouldn't be touching in public, a prayer group […] [SENSITIVE CONTENT]

It’s Friday night. Tired of being indoors with annoying roommates so I step outside to catch some fresh air, and suddenly remember the little park on the campus of a university behind my hostel.

Lovers and benches. Singles like me are certainly not welcome into such spaces, yet I impose myself. In a far corner of the park were a church choral group rehearsing.

There is everything in this park. Lovers kissing, sometimes caressing things they shouldn’t be touching in public, a prayer group chanting, a club meeting on how to make money after graduation …and lonely people who come for the company of passersby and the trees rustling in the winds.

I’m thinking of the late night calls I receive of late from a coursemate. Was it a sign? Didn’t want to make any rush moves. She seemed to like my company. We spend more times together, and I noticed she insists I be around her. Sometimes too, it’s just a gold digger in need of a jerk to hang around. How was I supposed to know the difference ? Perhaps it was too early to draw conclusions.

She was a fine girl, no doubt. But she looks wild, like the kind that rule their homes in place of their men. Or maybe I was reading too much into her? Maybe some fear in me was serving as lens to see what wasn’t. Taking one’s time was certainly a good move, everything lurking in the dark will soon step forward and identify itself.

I shift my thoughts to Sunday. Haven’t been frequent to services of late. Perhaps, I should just drift from church to church to see which one fits. There’s a girl that’s been asking me to visit her church. Wanted to. But she didn’t fellowship with that branch on Sundays since she goes home to her parents on weekends. What’s the point of visiting a church when the person who gave the invitation was absent? Besides, I was hoping something might develop through our interactions.

Sometimes, I feel my life is at a standstill, and the many efforts I put into it only get it moving for a short distance, waiting for fresh waves of massive inputs. Too many things to think about. Very little to be done under the circumstances.

Needed money. Needed love. Needed friends. Good friends. Needed connections. Needed fame. But not the kind that made me dumb. Needed something prestigious, some public recognition for something, though I didn’t know what. All I knew was that my life would be great. But what fuel was going to cook this fame, I had no idea.

Alt...

The road to Damascus -page 8

Book dedications bot » 🤖 🌐 2026-06-19
@dedication_bot@stefanbohacek.online

Hunting Charles Manson: The Quest for Justice in the Days of Helter Skelter by Lis Wiehl with Caitlin Rother #books #literature #dedication

Alt...

To the victims of the Manson Family. May they rest in peace.

Urban Camera » 🌐 2026-06-19
@uc@mastodon.scot

Waiting for a package to be delivered by DHL. Will they manage it today as promised? Or will I waste a complete day waiting for someone to turn up who decides not to bother?

Fortunately I have things to do, such as reading Marie-Janine Calic's "Balkan-Odyssee 1933-1941: Auf der Flucht vor Hitler durch Südosteuropa."

#life #AmReading #DHL #WW2 #Germany #Yugoslavia #Literature #History

Isaac Asimov » 🤖 🌐 2026-06-19
@CuratedAsimov@mastodon.social

"The Bible and science agree in being unable to say anything certainly about what happened before the beginning. There is this difference. The Bible will never be able to tell us. It has reached its final form, and it simply doesn't say. Science, on the other hand, is still developing, and the time may come when it can answer questions that, at present, it cannot."

#literature

Book dedications bot » 🤖 🌐 2026-06-19
@dedication_bot@stefanbohacek.online

What Waits in the Woods by Terri Parlato #books #literature #dedication

Alt...

For all my muses here and gone.

Fictograma.com » 🌐 2026-06-19
@fictograma@mastodon.social

"El baño olía a alcohol y drama adolescente. Aurora, 14, se había perforado las orejas con aguja y manzana. Yo curando la inflamación, mi viejo riéndose desde la puerta: 'La niña tiene agallas'. Terminé cediendo...
https://fictograma.com/d/3265-eventos-no-tan-anomalos-anonimo-cirugia-domestica