Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

Poem: More than a pretty face

By: Linda M. Crate  women are not your broodmares, just like you don’t want objectification; neither do we so knock us off your pedestals we’re not paintings to hang in your art gallery— “do you want to go out?” you…

Poem: The Exile

By: Adreyo Sen In her dreams, morning was a cool wind and the wetness of the grass under her braided head. The braids had been banished, as had, in the nefarious hands of Time, most of the little things so fragile…

Poem: The Indian Woman

By: Adreyo Sen The little Indian woman entering the pub turned to me and said Hello. And in the dusk, her lined face was transformed to a dusky beauty, by tiredness. Weariness had worn her down to a worn elegance as…

Poem: Verschränkung (entanglement)

By: Garima Sharma In the balms of my new forehead that grew like grief over the walls you could never see the shame. my backs thousands of them, became mirrors that turned into silver blanks dots of the mind after every…

Poem: Self-Similar

By: Garima Sharma A lonely woman takes lovers, no dreams, children, shoe bites, men and brothels of feet. coins, zari, and the young boy outside the hamaam. Freedom was never for the darling slave, whose wrists are bound by spit,…

Poem: For the Lover Who Never Came

By: Garima Sharma I am the one who sweats sadness killing knees and loneliness on slow roads did you hear? when I erupted like a dying river? on those blue sheets my hair greased with horror and navel burning with rejection?…

Poem: I Thought of You

By: Aneesha Roy I thought of you for days and months. I thought of you in tempestuous storms and insurgent gales. I thought of you in bitter snow and in hale. I thought of your beady eyes, your crooked nose…

Poem: Dear little Cecilia

By: Aneesha Roy Dear little Cecilia, sprightly, contumacious, Tiptoed to her room; carefree, audacious, She was to star in a little skit In a few days, too soon. She expected no laurels, no exalted praise, But was determined to give…

Poem: A Slip of Tongue

By: Aneesha Roy An unsolicited phrase of reproach Escaped my lips today. It was undeserved and rude And perhaps directed at Her rawest nerve. She said nothing much in defence. She was too hurt to speak. No execration, no distasteful…

Poem: Ravished

By: Aneesha Roy She strolls into her study in Her characteristic, Neanderthal gait; Her shoulders drooping, Her skin misted with sweat; Her breath heavy And her day laid waste. She approaches her mahogany desk Under the ornate ceiling And devours…