Literary Yard

Search for meaning

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Poem: the sun comes out again

By: Linda M. Crate this night was dark stretched on for many moons, and when the sunlight finally woke me to the knowledge i was still alive it seemed as if i had woken from some zombie dream; almost lost my…

Poem: freedom

By: Linda M. Crate “Only from the heart can you touch the sky.” ~Rumi So it could be said all i know of the love comes from heaven all the vibrant intricacies of gold, pink, crimson, blue, purple, and midnight…

Poem: After Twenty Five Years

By: Jibanananda DasTranslated by: Kousik Adhikari  When I last met her in the field- I said, ‘One day in this time Come again, if you desire After twenty five years!’ Saying this I returned to my home, After then, how many times…

Poem: Girls Know Bicycles

By: Kousik Adhikari Girls know bicycles when the sun looks green over the hilltop And the water feels devilish before turn cold, On my way home, I see several of them Riding with their finished smiles Still painting blushing designs On…

Story: Foxfire

By: Raymond Greiner Ivaloo Johnson was 15years old living in a high hollow in the Virginia highlands, the only child of Arlie and Isabelle Johnson. Arlie and Isabelle homesteaded this land in 1805. Then both died in the winter of…

Story: Stand By Me

By: Akash Vikas Rumade Somewhere in 2024, Aditya took a sip from his tea and slurped in dismay. It might have been his tenth cup for that day. He rolled his tongue a bit inside as it could no longer…

Poem: Velvet benches

By: David Hutt velvet benches and heroin dreams, men with backpacks filled with life slung onto shoulders and walked though streets dragging beards and feet and clumping along with desperation down to the beach to watch the waves rushing up the…

Poem: As good as it gets

By: David Hutt For several nights I kissed her lobotomy eyes, kissed her pre-torn wrists, dissolved her anxieties in our imperfections. She asked me things like, is it possible to love two people? I said no, and darling, this is as…

Poem: breathing

By: April Mae M. Berza  to breathe the same air that you breathe I share a part of me, a portion of my existence to feel the pulse of the clock I must try to breathe not, the more I gather strength…