Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: William Kitcher John was just a baby when his parents realized that there was something strange about him. John’s mother tried to breastfeed him, but quickly gave it up when she found she couldn’t produce enough milk to keep…

Fiction

By John RC PotterWhen her husband passed away after a brief battle with cancer my grandmother tried to lift him up from the casket. Five years passed. She was found wandering around town during the winter, without a coat. Her…

Fiction

By: Anthony Ward You thought this house was haunted. Those years we lived here. Until you were too afraid to stay any longer, and you fled, leaving me alone to look back on us, with the house like an empty…

Poetry

By: The Muse Words of an African Child ma,I’ve wanted tohold your hands whilethe sun is closing its eyes&when that flowerin our backyardis saying ‘hello’ for the first time. (I wanted for youto open your eyesto see my soul) da,do…

Poetry

By: A.J. Ortega It was my fault, and I knew this only when I was kicking through charred furniture, books, and two-by-fours.I hoped that I’d find the red lunchbox, only half-melted, and, with my now useless house key, I’d pry…

Poetry

By: Richard LeDue January Again Lonely as a cornerwhere there used to be a Christmas tree,and the musicless silencea reminder of every goodbyethat passedbefore there was evena hello. ### Empty Rooms Seducing Them With Silence Everyone’s still existingthrough the loneliest…

Poetry

By: Darren Stephen Lynch Romain Blue Domain Unlatch the cities fragrant eyesMind trailing abreast in the abode of beating nightOpen along the passageA kin of raptured taleLevelled by this promiseElaborating too the sight of forwarded poseA touching divinityWarmth rushing freedEntered…

Travel

By: Erik Priedkalns Where’s Happy now?Why’s it so hard to get that fix?Lows stay forever,Highs go like an LA snow.What about you, Smiley Face?Softly speaking, Calm.Never heard a single word.Never saw the red sky warning.Never.Where’d you stow the frenzied Beast?Snarling,…

Poetry

By: Sheila Henry I question myselfat this stage of life,a lot of living behind me,more than three scores and tenand not as much ahead—I surmise. A junction reached for pauseto take inventory,no more forks in the road to worry about,no…

Poetry

By: Christian Ward Pallas’s catOtocolobus manul The OG grumpy cat. It memesitself every time it steps outside,every pika and squirrela flashbulb never cooling down.A chubby pile of grey furreshaped by cold-pressed code.Perhaps, instead, it dreamsof a domestic life – the…