Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: S.M. Moore “my thoughts on an obituary” An elegance tends to possess the mindIn dismayI hear about the wind floating along the sea foamAnd how it brushes over the wave caps A woman says: my lover, my lifeYou have…

Essay

By: Dennis Vannatta Mid-winter this past year, I lost the ability to write.             Of course, what you are presently reading is writing of a sort, but I’m here speaking of Writing with a capital W.  The real stuff.  The…

Poetry

By: Suchoon Mo in the middle of the desertthere is a kingdom in the middle of the kingdomthere is a casino in the middle of the casinothere is a chapel in the middle of the chapelthere is a casket the…

Fiction

By: Richard C Lin Legend has it that Dad was once a very different person. San Bo (third paternal elder uncle) shares tales of Dad as a skinny and mischievous scamp. Like the mythical Monkey King Sun Wukong, he would…

Fiction

By: Dexter Alex Being locked away was the best part of being alive these days, I was kept sedated and restrained so I wouldn’t take my own life. I had tried, fractured my skull in the process but somehow they…

Fiction

By: Alan Swyer Waking up in the morning, which had long been a joy for Ed Rubin, turned instead into a source of dread once Valerie, along with two other junior account execs, lost her job at an ad agency….

Fiction

By: John E.C.         for R.N. The reason? To heighten, within the populace, the fear and hatred of the perceived enemy’s threat, in order to increase the state’s authoritarian grip. A straight up and down Black Op job, of course….

Poetry

By: Stephen Kingsnorth Jan – the anniversary of his death I doubt you’ve ever heard of him,mere footnote, nation’s history,a martyr, cold war, distant past,in black and white, even the flame,but I was adolescent then. Jan Palach, student, name burned…

Poetry

By: Dr K. V. Raghupathi The Search Scratching and scraping the ashesto find his father’s on the banks of Gangaas the silken evening light stretches over the gentle flow.Tireless in mid-summer“What are you looking for?”“For the ashes of my father.”“Sixteen…

Books Reviews

By: Benedict Ofora Okonkwo I felt bad within any time I see itThe hatred it create was a force that shook meHe should die a painful deathThe very thing I’m trying to run away from caught me between my legsHe…