Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: Megha Sood 1. Aberration I’m an aberration, An anomaly, A certain twist in the tale How do you feel when you masks peel off in layers? and every time you shred your pain and misery You see more layers…

Fiction

By: Jean Lagacé Gulfport, Mississippi. 1990 Lyn (short for Pralina) was not herself that morning. She had forgotten to bring him jam with his toast and never came back to refill his cup with fresh coffee after he had finished his breakfast….

Books ReviewsPoetry

By: James G. Piatt Idols of Stone Idols of stone, the remains of the ancient times of dinosaurs, pharaoh’s, pagan priests, kings, and tyrants, rest on tiny pebbles in a soft forest grove. They are silent during the day but speak…

Poetry

By: John Maxwell O’Brien Down by the Echo Lake (A Villanelle) Down by the echo lake in spectral dreams tin souls prepare their wake Green hands ring round the rake A lime of veils down by the echo lake Watered…

Poetry

By: Stephen Mead    Watering invites you to become all things littlest: Grub tongues, star-nosed moles, avid Aphids & missionary bees… Butterflies also, the fluttering migrations pass on, resemble the sun, shade, scent… So we are ephemera lasting gigantic as we…

Fiction

By: Alan Berger He first got the news while painting his last painting. He was born in America but left for good, or bad, for Paris and never planned to go back, unless as an artistic hero. Nothing less will…

Poetry

By: Daniel de Culla A teacher asks Little James What balls are those that don’t have hairs And Little James answered quicly: -None, teacher, because all the balls And more those of Villar Have hairs. There was laughter by spoonfuls Like…

Books ReviewsPoetry

By: Daniel de Cullá “Autumn Spider” (Song Caminos Rancheros/Fall Equinox 1975/Gioia). The Great Blafigria, Vol. II E III Once there was a spider Just finishing her web But autumn came With red and yellow leaves, and the wind That blew her…

Poetry

By: Hope Anderson Lye Brook Falls, Vermont You have to walk a rocky path, careful not to twist an ankle or stumble and fall, the stones tripping you up like character flaws reminding you to be patient, careful, mindful. Your…

Fiction

By: Matthew Roy Davey You pull in and let the engine idle for a minute before you switch it off. The hand that turns the key is trembling. You are early. You buy a coffee in a building that is the…