Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: Barbara Ann Atwood Dinner at Wild Garlic Grill I no longer look like my mother, who died at thirty, skin as smooth as polished stone. Tonight at the bistro I reach for bread with my grandmother’s hand. In the…

Poetry

By Alan Berger I’ve been trying to get the angle On her latest story She said she loved me once Then she made me sorry Now she is hanging a new one On her line But it’s this reporter’s opinion…

Fiction

By: Kaitlyn Reese saw the word “unique” when I was ten. It was hidden in an ancient book in my grandmother’s office, covered by a pile of tousled blue shirts, the same we’d all wear on Monday. I confided in…

Fiction

By: A. Richard Sogliuzzo Vincent glanced at the graffiti on the wall of the Flatbush Avenue/Brooklyn College subway station, and then laughed. Amidst the usual array of “fuck you, eat shit, etc.” on the walls was a declaration that resonated…

Essay

By: Bob Forbes It is becoming as easy to locate a so-called hero as it is to find a McDonalds.  In fact, all one has to do is donate a pint of blood to receive a “Hero” sticker that can…

Essay

By: Bob Forbes The other day, I was in the men’s locker room at my Fitness Center.  I go there three days each week to work out on a variety of machines, hoping to maintain some semblance of a male…

Poetry

By Kusum Choppra The policewoman and the journalist Made a strange couple. She so glamorous He so stodgy, lugging Her bag and other paraphernalia. She of the large round face The ready smile, the obvious make up That glitzy sari!…

Fiction

By: Kusum Choppra Through my bedroom window, I look down on a giant bedroom. It sleeps 23 odd scattered around, singles, doubles, triples and quartets. Dark nights offer no glimpse that I rush to catch at daylight. My eyes first…

Poetry

By: Jon Carter Split Detail one life moves forward and the other dies away, yes, there are two hearts now beating in my chest, constantly searching the sky for answers. feeling guilty over this potential future, sickened by my disrespect…

Poetry

By: Chandra Shekhar Dubey When you come to me With gleams in eyes and loads of broken promises in heart across a corridor where silence reigns supreme and moans deep. I break into pieces , gathering the petals of memories…