Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By Taylor Dibbert Neither,Resurrection,Nor,Revival,What,They’reBuilding,Together,Is,Something,Completely,Different. ### Taylor Dibbert is a widely published writer and journalist. He’s the author of the Peace Corps memoir “Fiesta of Sunset.”

Poetry

By: R.T. Castleberry WE MEASURE AFTERNOONSIN SMOKE. Early May sinks us,that sends vines creeping toblooms ascent on terrazzo walls;chases battering windsalong canopy sidewalks,through beggars on bikesbartering in desert camo. As I stand at a Belleville cornerwatching my prospects fade,church bells…

Essay

By: Raymond Greiner       Today I have been thinking about geometric patterns and shapes, their intention and purpose, the obvious, the less obvious, and those, which are more ambiguous.  I’m thinking about geometry’s vast and profusely influential melding with Earth’s…

Poetry

By: Roger G. Singer SCATTERED here at thisearth place dust liftsfrom thesmooth walkway carried withoutchoice releasedunequally ontodistant places as the partsscatter anddivide ### REFLECTION the moonin the mirror it’s strengthpulls the gazeand tidesto itsbright crooked smileor its dark sideof mystery…

Poetry

By: Pragya Dhiman I come from a world where lizards bathein toilet tanksand turn into salamanders slippery,like salivating tongues hungryfor their next meal in the dry drought of a sticky heat. I come from a placewhere if you clean the…

Poetry

By: Karen Lee Stradford Rescue Somehow, you knew I needed you.You found me when I was lost. My weakness was so obvious.You refused to leave my side. I depended on you to come around.After all, cats are curious.I know that…

Poetry

By: Valentin Emelin at first the sound of tearing stringand sunlight candy dropsgot scatteredon the tile floortheir touch of polished amberwas smooth like silkalas I don’t rememberthe namerhymes with a beardno that’s the facedon’t see it clearly behind the wheelin…

Poetry

By: Chilaikalaan This morning bought with itself an idea.An idea that I should clean my room.I started by making my bed.I picked up the novels and kept them in a rack.I picked up the clothes and kept them for washing.I…

Poetry

By: Stephen Kingsnorth Arty Facts These artefacts of pilfered swag –fact – much museum art is theft;as folk stare through the looking glass,what of reflecting, facing past? Unless it’s evidence in court –proceeds of crime not norm display,an oeuvre brochure,…

Poetry

By: Jacquelyn Shah Without Fanfare Without fanfare hoopla handshakeswithout publication or proclamationbenefit of billboardswithout the expectation of applause or awewithout a murmurthe mind starsin its quiet littlebreakdown Dull drum of come on come on nowcontrapuntal noand utter disregardfor the head’s…