Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Year: 2016

Mimesis and the State of US Democracy

By: Gaither Stewart  Dictionaries relate the word mimesis, of ancient Greek origin, to imitation, representation, mimicry, similarity, or the act of resembling. Today, mimesis is most often related to literary and societal functions. I recently read a study of mimesis as…

Poem: Charlestown, Massachusetts (1947)

By: Robert A. Davies Bunker Hill Monument up the street! 18 year old discoverer come to gather signatures for Wallace. Iron beds wall to wall, such old people he has never seen and they so eager to see him. Though sensing…

Poem: Brother!

By: Robert A. Davies Wake up, brother! Step out of your ashes – your step-brother insists! I believe you were born in Dorchester in 1930, I was 2. Our father abandoned both of us. You had a single mother lunch of…

Poem: Life in the slow lane

By: Milt Montague weeks flow past in peaceful anonymity no thoughts to disturb the serenity I sit alone amidst my greenery life pulses in the slow lane surrounded by my green friends the philodendrons and pothos need but water and…

Poem: I remember tiger lilies

By: Milt Montague spiky leaves of burnt orange growing up, out, and curving down revealing it’s black spots this is how they got their name but really …..then it should be leopard lilies large stamens shouting to the bees come,…

Getting Ahead

By: William T. Hathaway This photo of my parents reveals much about their personalities (hers vivacious and outgoing, his withdrawn and closed off), their relationship (little real contact), and also the times (could be captioned Gender Roles in the 1950s:…

Poem: The Zen of Scratch

By: E. Martin Pedersen I’ll scratch your new car door with my old car key welcome to the hood wagon walk by when the street is empty ——————crezeschz——————– then don’t look back or scratch. You possess what I’d never want…

Poem: Thoughts on Hockey

By: E. Martin Pedersen BRAAAAASH electro-shock buzzer jump-starts the tiny crowd It’s chilly in here, I’m chilly dry salty mouth At first they’re falling down a lot, like drunks on marbles sticks clack make good passes that are not picked up…

Poem: Ode to a Peach (only it’s a plum)

By: E. Martin Pedersen Marianna can’t stand the sound of chewing She can’t sit with grandpa She leaves the table or makes us all self-conscious because she’s on record She can’t stand the sound of chewing ——————- SHE IS SO WRONG…