Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Non-Fiction

By: Maribel Balaoro “How long did you think I would wait?” Madeline shouts from the car. “Sorry Mady, I forgot something from the apartment.” Suzy said as she opened the trunk and threw in several trash bags. “C’mon! Let’s go, we’re…

Poetry

By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Where do the woods part, castles touching the sky, Succulent dropes growing pulsed to common lies? When is a kitten sinking, drowning in the river, Watched by a school girl drilled not to save her? How long…

Poetry

By: KJ Hannah Greenberg In most remote corners, mayhap, where societies cut loose, Sauntering away from municipalities’ dry toast-quaffing Patients, stoned artists suffering alimentary misfortunes, Paid rumors of: plastic pony rape, alopecia, and debt, Circulate ‘round factories, enrich thieves, cure halitosis,…

Fiction

By Gaither Stewart The last time I saw Algodón was in the instant before the medics pulled the sheet over his face. From my fourth floor balcony across the narrow street, even in the faint late-night illumination, I could perceive…

Fiction

By: Jerry Vilhotti  Gianni sat in the back of the car totally engulfed by cigar smoke which was coming from his father’s nervous puffing which grew more frantic the closer they were approaching the foothills; the Father swore he could…

Poetry

By: JD DeHart To take the word and conjure it in mixed media, to take another’s narrative and wrap it in our own metaphor, playing the game of placing or noting emerging codes, to take many paragraphs and truncate them…

Poetry

By: JD DeHart Now, I’m really not a bad reaper, just happen to be born this way. Imagine me, if you can, pressed from the womb in a dark hood. Some people choose jobs, some jobs… well, they’re compelled by…

Poetry

By: Abishake Koul  I count the number of flights I have taken this year I don’t post any statuses or spam social media I am not sure what is the break even to gloat about it But I sure feel tired…

Poetry

By: Abishake Koul It’s just an illusion, my friend Even the pain isn’t real at times Love begets love is propaganda And Romeo didn’t die Only the dumb know such stuff Some who can’t speak And some who don’t say…

Poetry

By: Dr. Neeraja Mani lifetime ,settled its eyes within the last flame of the dying fire it flew around the lantern cursing all the worthless days passed Silently suffocated within the tearfull channel over the cheeks wished to sleep eternally into…