Literary Yard

Search for meaning

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I as the being sui generis

By: Paweł Markiewicz I have just returned from a walk with my beloved hound on foot, which has a good heart, the tenderly shaped by Erlking dog’s heartlet. I’m feeling very well at home, as well as blissfully. I have a light…

Five Golden Birds

By: E.R. LeVar Ruby ran a clump of Caroline’s pale hair through her hands, feeling for the knots and mats before taking a brush to it. She was gentle, as gentle as could be.  “Ow!” “Sorry. Your hair’s too knotty….

‘Resignation’ and other poems by Mark Tulin

By: Mark Tulin Resignation Don’t worry about me.I’ve wasted too much timeinvesting in your company,making your profits,building your dream house,watching the shares of your stocks risewhile you get a new Mercedes every year. I don’t want your money.I like myself…

Winter rain in my muse-like homeland

By: Paweł Markiewicz Poland the eyesome fay at the crack of dawn in winteris weepingthe winter rain in the form of magnificent teardrops is dropping downit is to be mesmerized in glaciated dreams of musesthe shepherd boy hears the falling…

Suicide Bluff

By: Thomas Fitzgerald McCarthy A heavy fog cloaked most of Verdando Mountain in the winter. From a distance, it was thick and glassy, and the few houses in the valley below looked like little more than particles of residue trapped…

Freddie

By: Jim Bates Early in June that summer I took two weeks off work and my friend Bobby and I hitched-hiked to Denver to a concert at Mile High Stadium. We saw Jimi Hendrix and had an unforgettable time. It…

The Dance

By: Benjamin Ashton An aroma of brown sugar and ground beef lingered in the kitchen as it had every Meat Loaf Monday in recent memory. Jill, slightly up on her toes, was rinsing dishes to be placed in the dishwasher….