By William T. Hathaway Review of Recollection of Things Learned By Gaither Stewart The Literary Yard contributor Gaither Stewart is a man of passions. In The Europe Trilogy he shared with us his passion for international espionage and intrigue….
By: Ranjeet Sarpal I heard rainfall In the backyard Descending on patterns of loneliness, Broken bottles, Emptied chips packets, Thrown bus tickets Abandoned puppies, Absorbing their fear of being alone , And Stirring memories In the dustbin of existence, Liquidating bricks…
By: Samiya Javed There is something oddly discomforting about a large group of people and their mirth, which seems to be contagious, except, I find myself untouched by it. The epidemic of callous loose talk, and feverish sweeping by of…
By: Aneesha Roy The thirst for life runs amok, My hungry loins call forth That bloody pulsating thrust That fills through and bursts, Deep, deep inside where no stories lie, Just darkness and smoke and fog and obscurity, moist and…
By: Aneesha Roy A sad street runs down unhurried by my dull-grey house. It stretches far and wide, dressed in the familiar trappings of charcoal black. It’s worn out in places. It runs along without a destination. It wears a mournful…
By Karthik Shankar The alarm clock announced itself with a rattling ring. My mind had already switched itself on fifteen minutes earlier but my body wasn’t ready to purge itself of the remnants of my daily slumber. I got up…
By: Leila A. Fortier You are the pause settling into the marrow Of my heart’s beat~ The fabric of a universe upon the Whisper of my own breath~ There is no distance between us In the lapse of time and space~…
By: Leila A. Fortier Melting Into a pool of silenced Thought from the source of our Ephemeral memories~ Something in The way our lips lingered and merged in Trails of whispered testimony~ Wet breath Tasting like the portal of heaven~ Where…
By: Leila A. Fortier I serve my smile to expressionless faces that know not The palace of my heart~ That know not this Language~ That know not this song~ I have fallen deeply Against The Rolling pages Of your tongue~…
By: G. D. McFetridge The other day I was at a coffee shop with a fellow writer and we were discussing the state of American literature. She looked thoughtfully over her double espresso and asked me what sort of writing I…