Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By Gaither Stewart “…every shadow is in the final analysis a child of light, and only he who experiences light and dark, war and peace, and rise and fall, has truly lived.” – (Stefan Zweig: Die Welt von Gestern (The…

Poetry

By: Charlene Pierce Freedom Flock and rise as one. A chorus of wings breathe the sound with diastolic release and soar. ### Breath of Life Fragmented, scattered like dust hidden in the corners, coating the spaces of unreachable places, the…

Poetry

By Ian C Smith Frankston generations on from war’s aftermath, English immigration lured by its bayside setting, its regular train service connecting Melbourne. End of the line. The very end. True, the posh whizz past by freeway to their holiday…

Poetry

By Heena Mahajan Choice is Meditation not Weed A lonely person, A wanderer how I choose to live diffused life when others are sparkling like chandelier…. I geared up to realize the importance of group always laughing at sights tried…

Books Reviews

By: Jean Fineberg Rubies Glistening ruby beads on four parallel chains parade across her teenage arm. A shaft of sunlight penetrates the drawn blinds. Nighttime at noon. Her shaking hand holds a light bulb and squeezes, squeezes until it shatters….

Non-Fiction

By Robert Steward Bromley, England 1999 I parked my white Mini in the forecourt of the Bromley adult education centre in Nightingale Lane. I took my shoulder bag from the passenger seat, got out the car and locked the door….

Fiction

By: Ram Govardhan After attending the heavy sessions at the Science and Nonduality Conference in San Jose and the World Science Festival in New York, David McFarlane and his Jewish-American wife, Batya Bergstein, resolved to head to Coimbatore, India, to…

Poetry

By: Mary Shuda You Are (Not) Alone In the chair, a boy. Father’s toy; Mother’s joy. The mother an angel the father able, but not interested in the cradle. pierced despite his armor surrounded by people he’s dying alone ###…

Poetry

By: Andrew Birch The Gorgon of St Gwyndydd’s school: Part 1 Silence as they creep up stair On cotton soles cold and soft A gasp from all around us came As Agnes Brewer coughed. Silence in the maths room As…

Essay

By Penny Skillman “Remember the void, Chuck. Remember the void.” Dramatically, the woman held his face in her hands, staring deeply into the void of Chuck’s eyes. “C’mon Chuck, let’s go.” We dragged him away from the woman who said…