Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

Poem: i’ll find my heart’s duet

By: Linda M. Crate you caught me in the ice of your smile made me your winter’s queen and i swallowed all my summer’s flowers and sunshine to allow you to take complete control over me, and consented to things…

Poem: the girl with the magic smile

By: Linda M. Crate cutting myself up in oceans of emotion too long i‘ve mourned your passing in my life no longer will i remain at this funeral; too long i‘ve dwelled in dark emotions tomes time to life my head…

Poem: remaining

By: Linda M. Crate  i sit on the edge of a lost horizon etched only in days of old wondering for the day i may be discovered or am i the bones dried and withered that no one will remember when…

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…

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…