Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: Michelle Reale  Suburban Neighborhood Pastoral The gray squirrel under the bald tire. The faded beach towels over the front porch railing. Little girls with dirty hair and flip flops. The buzz and drone of a lawnmower. The small plastic…

Books ReviewsEssay

By: Ben Cribbin At first reading, T.S Eliot’s Choruses from ‘The Rock’ seem like something of a literary joke. Their form is odd: The Rock was a verse play written to raise money for new churches in London. Eliot supplied…

Education

Enactus Ramjas, a society at Delhi University founded in 2011, is known for its dedication to addressing societal and environmental challenges through entrepreneurial action. Their projects focus on gender parity, financial literacy, clean water, and empowering youth, addressing issues like…

Poetry

By: Priyanshi Agarwal On the face it brought a bright beamThinking about them in a daydreamTaking out time even when you are busyTalking to them sometimes made you sillyStomach had butterfliesEyes shined like fireflies It was not a crushThough it…

Poetry

By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Sideways Movements To shy, to surreptitiously slide from moment to momentCould bring about vermiculated communications, elseConflict among rimose relations, also rime, snow, mostForms of chilled existence. Humoral problems typically originate when loved ones’Vagarities leak. Such capriciousness…

Poetry

By: Joan McNerney Imagine Imagine to be a birdslicing air with wings. Up up over that horizonsoaring through cloudsaway from solemn earth. Shining, shimmeringfar above this sphereinto clear blue light. Cutting through skygliding over oceanseyes open all seeing. Awake all…

Poetry

By: Wayne F. Burke J C Penny “Keep your hands to yourselves,” Grandmacrabs aswe walk down the carpeted aisle.“Do not touch anything!” My brother has to touch somethingand is slappedand bawlsand is told to sitwhile Grandma picks out clothesfor us…

Poetry

By: S. Philips Where Icarus Went Weary winter light Come the rye Think I’ll leave this bed Can’t trust it anymore After last night When I was Flat on my back bare face to the ceiling Gravity and cool white…

Poetry

By: Ellison Henderson I’m in Love with Walt Whitman What an idea! That one can be a ruler of life.It’s possible to exist and dance and bein a field of nothing but grass and windI want—I will be the one…

Poetry

By: Pramod Rastogi Walking up a mountainous pathI saw you bathingUnder a cascade not too highIn its languid flow.Draped in white linenYou stood, eyes closed,Arms held above the foreheadAs if in a still-dancing pose.Hypnotized, I stood there,Witness to this heavenly…