Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Month: November 2015

Poem: At Times

By: Denny E. Marshall Loneliness is a gene All are born with Evolutions of time Will not detach At times lays dormant Hidden in helix The long spiral strands Are always present Atoms spin around Calls from the past Even crowded…

Poem: Mile of blood on the Elmira tracks

By: Chuck Orlosk On balmy October morning, 2013, Dillon G. (16) trespassed RR Tracks, listened to hip hop music on head set. Earth rumbled, scream of locomotive horn; The voice of Bruno Mars, “you walk around here like you wanna be…

Story: The Diagnosis

By: William T. Hathaway When the doctor told dad he had fatal leukemia, he really fell apart. He wasn’t ready to die and couldn’t handle the finality of it all. The doctor tried to soften the news by saying the…

Story: Long Standing Career

By: Sri Ram Subsequently, I was asked to take up the Relationship Manager post for this profile and handle it. I complained that this would be a tough one to begin with but they reminded me of the many statements…

A John Ramm Monologue

By: JD DeHart I first found myself in the wood, nestled in dew and fog, where no one would pry and find me slumping. Life was rather perfect then. I occasionally had to use my horns to shoo some intruder…

Poem: It’s an Intermission

By: Pijush Kanti Deb Above in the sky blue renovates itself in a dark color and on the land my dreamy eyes are shown the merciless back of my love proceeding towards a new mirror renovating herself with a fresh…

Poem: Now I Love My Mirror

By Pijush Kanti Deb Once I had a great abhorrence of my mirror- standing in my dark room, knowing only to reflect my bowing lonesome image down to a gloomy star oiling it to smile at me and my days…

Story: Butterfly

By: Tom Ray Ed Churchwell met Thuy at a promotion party at the officers club at Tan Son Nhat Air Force Base on the outskirts of Saigon. A couple of his colleagues at Combat Evaluation Center Echo (CECE, pronounced “See…

Poem: Medicine Man Crossing Space-Time Border

By: Chuck Orloski Unthinkable that aged Looking Glass would be banished onto a reservation where, upon grim encounter, Colonel John Campbell promised him, “You will mercifully die of old age instead of musket rounds to the head!” Medicine Man never wrote…

Poem: Wildflower

By: Linda M Crate the leaves are gold, orange, and red; i stand watching as autumn blooms cars whiz by no one notices the beauty of fall dances around me all her colors and all her beauty; they’re all caught…