Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: Mahathi THE FLOOD(In India modern dams are constructed without arranging alternate habitat to the displaced people, who are mostly tribals living on the forest resources. The dams on other hand are causing great environmental danger by razing down forests,…

Poetry

By Clark Zlotchew Plunged into darknessalleviated by flaming torcheson rough-hewn rock walls,damp walls of a cavern.Flickering flames cast shifting shadowson stone surface in disturbing dance.I plod and I trudge in slow motion. Before me suddenlya narrow tunnel appears.I squat in…

Drama

By: Anuradha Dev Akshay:  Rhea, show me your home.  Rhea: Why? Akshay: I wanna see it. Take a video 📸 and send it to me.  Rhea: What? No. I’m busy.  Akshay: Doing what? Tweeting how pissed you are at the…

Fiction

By Harrison Abbott I dreamt about Rosa for the first time. I lay in the dark and I think that was when I first realised I had mixed emotions for her. Or new ones, rather, that unsurfaced from my subconscious….

Poetry

By: Jordan Zuniga Stirring, stirring, the pounding of the drum,Marching, marching, to collect the final sum,Where patience was once a virtue that surely stayed,A king’s messenger declared that death would no longer be delayed,The mustering of arms, the soldiers hosts…

Fiction

By: Liaa Kumar “Oh my god, can you imagine?” she said, her voice full and bright, the words tumbling out in a passionate jumble. She holds her arms up against the night sky, beaming, eyes searching the stars as if…

Fiction

By C.A. Haines When I vacation, I stay close to the coasts; if I go inland, I limit travel to major cities, ones with a nice mix of colors, like my hometown, Philadelphia. No Dakotas, no farm country, nothing too…

Poetry

By: Strider Marcus Jones WE MOVE THE WHEEL we move the wheelthat turns through each mistake,giving motionto the roles we chimeuntil both trickle out of timelike brittle steelthat rusts and breaksinto lapsed devotion. less, or more,you imagined it was suresharing…

Poetry

By: Viator Remote Stations We are spacefirst of all—the intersticesbetween the polesof what is— so must bemostly of whatis not so primarilythat which isnothing, leaving us a little lightin the lowdownwhere we mightseek solacein the solid bedrock, lyingdown on the…

Poetry

By: Shai Afsai Several years agoworking as a middle school librarianI took a group of studentson a field trip to Slater Millin Pawtucket, Rhode Island. I purchased a coffee mug at the gift shopand upon our returnpresented iton behalf of…