Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

Poem: let me bee

By: Linda M. Crate oh, let me bee, i would like to roam free through the skies pollinating flowers with the butterflies – you are sweet with your hair of goldenrod and eyes so blue, but i‘m sorry i tire…

Poem: the brightest sunlit pool

By: Linda M. Crate  i‘m just the girl that can’t let go holding onto things long since rotted trying to wish friendships back to life, but once people forget they don’t like to remember or so it seems; i always seem to…

Poem: not your song

By: Linda M. Crate  the sun looks at me lovingly peeping from beneath white clouds, and a bright blue sky pushing me to move on and some days i don’t think of you anymore; but on days like today you‘ve carved…

Poem: Two Extremes

By: Chandra Shekhar Dubey I stretch like an endless desert You flow like a perennial river I have nothing to hide, nothing to give you have in your sleeve a store of a giver. In your eyes there is confluence…

Poem: A Disturbance

By: Dr. James G. Piatt The burnt Willow trees On the smoldering edge Of the lazy torpid brook, Bend to the wind like a Nervous, anxious crowd Waiting for the night train, I watch in silence, feeling a Disturbance in the…

Poem: Only a Memory

By: Dr. James G. Piatt In the room Where the broken Vase exists Dead roses weep In sorrow, Darkness Covers the Rumpled bed, Splintered glass The diary… unfinished, Too late… Lost in Shadows, A window Broken by False promises Of love…

Poem: Where are the years?

By: Dr. James G. Piatt I smelled of Birch leaves, a Flowing brook, small pebbles and Youth. My heart was composed of Summer flowers, bumble bees, and The scent of timelessness, my mind Contained colorful ancient rhythms, New poems, and thoughts…

Poem: The Secrets of Window

By: Kousik Adhikari I look at your face, Silly face! Any river leaving Its dust ridden track in magic spell? You stood looking, The window is beautiful, I know. Remind me when the winter comes, Tell me when the streets…

Poem: The Owl Speaks

By: Kris Price The owl speaks too: Raggedy, obese, dirty old slobs, Mortality is a weightless spoon and Education is a basket full of flowery looks. Religion is a meticulous tune and Critical Thinking is hidden away in nooks. The…

Poem: Labyrinth Moon

By: Kris Price The day’s bone gnawed through the blue winter frost that surrounded the bum on the street corner. He flicked his silver lighter to make a small fire in the barrel that was in front of him. The…