Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Essay

By: Andrew Nickerson Sun Tzu and Entertainment: Girls Und Panzer[i]’s Anzio Battle             Many tactical theorists have come and gone throughout history, but none have had the influence of Sun Tzu, an ancient general/tactician/strategist whose masterwork, The Art of War,…

Fiction

By: Michael Gigandet “I hope you are able-challenged!” A man rattled the door of the bathroom stall. “I don’t see a wheelchair under the door!” Obviously he means me, Martin thought. There’s only one handicapped stall in here, and I’m…

Essay

By: Jun A. Alindogan I remember growing up in a neighborhood that was surrounded by nature. Our yard was filled with guavas, duhat (java plums), atis (sugar apples), tamarinds, coconuts, and bananas. Outside the yard, there were mango, santol (cotton…

Poetry

By: Trishant Subedi Behold that olden world—the grief stillwaiting to be told.I know it was a thing I could have told.I was forgotten,and was growing old. I am leaving with the cold air,I am leaving with a silent despair.Do not…

Poetry

By: Jim BrosnanWriting at Midnight I keep rememberingin every letterI reread unfinishedcorrespondence— incomplete messageswhen I became lostin deep thoughtas I wandered through unnamed towns withwhite gazebos, pasta vacant lot with onlya swinging Sinclair sign— a survivor from a lastyear’s tornado…

Poetry

By P. V. Anand Krishna I never chose this existence — this small space with stolen breath,these walls that silently constrict every time I take the chance to dream. I was destined for wider horizons, for paths that exhale under…

Poetry

By: Aritra Basak Thin as Eyes I used to enter like a seeker of the quiet—barricaded graveyard, rented peace,an alibi from the scripted day,my breath new. Now the church is bright in a crueler way.The candles burn thin as eyes.The…

Business

By: Khushi Tripathi They always see an angry daughter,But never see her dead laughter,Not her cries, not her tired mind,How she used to fly like the wind. They never see how she is breaking again and again,She is tired, broken,…

Poetry

By: James Aitchison In the quiet minutes,before the sun dips from sight,the earth holds its breath as a day dies.We dare not breathe either.It is when hatred dissipates in a blaze,when thoughts disconnect from past lives,when we are born anew.Yet…

Fiction

By: Harrison Abbott I’ve never liked Anna in all the years that she’s been my neighbour. Just don’t like her. But I also don’t want her to be murdered. She doesn’t like me either. That’s why I must be serious…