Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Mark Kodama Each step creaked as he ascended the stairs. His footsteps were light on the carpet. The door knob to her bedroom clicked. He lifted her thick cotton comforter and slipped into her bed. The mattress sagged and…

Poetry

By: Annapurani Vaidyanathan That at home or away, I’m always bound by rules. That, I don’t have the privilege to choose. That, I will always be judged, whether I win my battles or lose. That, to muster the courage to…

Poetry

By: Ken W Simpson Apathy You can tell an America the truth but you can’t make it think. The Fake Race An elephant in every room smoke and mirrors and clowns dressed as candidates for the presidency of Wall Street….

Poetry

By: Rex Chilcote Early Morning It’s early in the morning when the only sounds you hear are the hum of the refrigerator and the stray car going down the road. If you are quite, you can hear the divine. Other…

Poetry

By: Alan Berger It looks like someoneBeen chewing on my noseToo much sunAnd coke I supposeWhere I left my keysWho the Hell knowns?My pants are to bigFor my prick and my assGlass half empty or half fullWhat glass are you…

Poetry

By: Phillip Knight Scott  colors I love you as 
 the night
 hangs gently from your brow, playing towards 
 a twinkle, determined to turn your lips ( 
 revealing the bliss 
 meant for us)
 gentle red. I love…

Poetry

By: Mahala Spillers Terpsichore Leather bound arcane gesture; I feel it on my pulse. As I yield my wrists up to you, Terpishore sways between the air gaps, Busting the pipeline alive for you to hear. Can’t you see that…

Fiction

By: Ram Govardhan On a cold February morning in 2007, President Abdul Kalam’s motorcade was an hour away from Coonoor, the civilian town near Wellington Cantonment in Ooty. He was on his way to meet Field Marshal Sam Maneckshaw to,…

Fiction

By: Matej Purg The boy’s feet barely touched the floor as he sat at the dining room table. He was staring at his math book, but he couldn’t focus on the problem in front of him. Illimitable distractions kept him…

Fiction

By Matej Purg It happened on a Tuesday afternoon, a block or so from where I parked my car. I was certain to get a ticket now, navigating hordes of slow-moving tourists standing in the way, taking pictures of themselves….