Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Ken Wheatcroft-Pardue “Huh?”             I couldn’t quite catch what Carmen had said. The wind had blown her words away. I could almost see the scrambled letters, flitting between an all natural food store and a Big Tex Burger franchise….

Fiction

By: Lily Finch Growing up in my family I spent a lot of my time hanging out with my mom. We baked together, we made doughnuts together, we played dice together and a lot of board games. Each time I…

Essay

By: Raymond Greiner The desert appears lifeless, void of color. No cathedrals only isolation, heat and blinding sun. One must hike the desert’s long trail to understand it. Hunker down on a cold desert night while scorpions sleep in your…

Poetry

By: Alexandra Călinescu Do you like crying? Do you enjoy that feeling you get after you cry? when your face is all so…wept and wet yet, somehow… pictorial… and your eyes dry up and you get the feeling that although…

Poetry

By: James Aitchison (after a visit to the Grampians, Australia) I came to unbreakable rock,Older than any on earth;Rock that could never be quarried,Rock that had gazed upon countryBefore any woman gave birth. Beside this unbreakable rock,My life is not…

Poetry

By: Cheryl Snell Fuzzy Today you must choose your pronouns. It should be a simple task but you are complex. Full of partial truths, once you were a stickler for grammar. Remember the “Surrender Dorothy” graffiti painted across the Beltway…

Poetry

By: Sweetest Summer yes a big fat yes to everythinga jolly yes to all of itwide open armsat the ready to embrace you allevery problemevery irritationeverything that should be differentblessing them one by one by oneas they march through the…

Poetry

By Aishwariya Laxmi I thought I’d loved you foreverBut I realize it was never meant to be‘Coz you gave me sleepless nightsAnd acted in a way that hurt meIf you had meant wellYou wouldn’t have acted so selfishlyLeft me hangingAnd…

Poetry

By: Akintoye Akinsola The mesmeric colour of nature woke me up in the wee hours of morningSniffing its sweet odourI hold its face in delightThis magical feeling is that of ecstasyAs I lean on nature, its eloquent charm arrests my…

Fiction

By: Nicole Lynn           Sometimes I remember your face looking like it was made of rubber. Smooth and supple, a canvas of silicone stretched tight over framework bones. Your smile was a malleable one. You carried…