Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By Riccardo Corrado Your eyes are so dark and sad, Pitch black like the darkest night; Who are you? Why so much pain in your eyes? Why are you suffering? I would like to help you, my dear, But what…

Fiction

By: Niles Reddick When he awoke, the first thing, after nature’s call, was to put the Starbuck’s k-cup in the Keurig, check email, scroll Facebook, sip coffee for thirty minutes before shaving, showering, and dressing for the commute into the…

Fiction

By: Jeremy Dorfman Mindy pushed open the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony. The salt water scent greeted her with friendly ease. The morning breeze wrapped itself around her nightie, then swirled off, carrying any lingering stress…

Fiction

By: Vivek Nath Mishra We used to spend our whole summer in the village where my grandfather and grandmother lived with my aunt and uncle. I remained very excited as the summer vacation approached. My mother would begin packing bags…

Essay

By: Cindy (McKinley) Alder When I was young, my mom read me fairy tales that ended with …”and they all lived happily ever after”. Oh how powerful those words were to a young girl! They seemed to say to me,…

Poetry

By: Chris Luu It all started in 1949, on a bright and sunny day. A man walked in town, feeling fresh, feeling fine, feeling ready to slay. He grabbed his Luger and went uber; he made some people pray. Shot…

Poetry

By: Monica Bravo I am a tornado that wrecks I am a destroyer of obstacles I am dangerous and powerful Watch your back Such a disaster, Said the news broadcaster Taking you by surprise Tearing up trouble Never go near…

Poetry

By: Mary Shay McGuire Osborne Street, Fall River, Massachusetts Of the men that flirted, winked and laughed Of the men that teased that she was a woman at four Of the boy who wanted to touch Of the boy who…

Poetry

By: Ian C Smith At the football, always a reminder of innocent joy, a stranger asked if he could sit next to me. Our talk meandered to a famous team of the past. I can’t remember what prompted me to…

Poetry

By: Keona Nguyen It’s a heart, it’s a train. The shape of the clouds, she saw in her young eyes, but now it fades away. Looking up she sees nothing but plain white clouds. Barbie and Ken. Their sound used…