Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: Alyssa Trivett We sit in our pill-bottles, dormant like vampires during daytime laundry cycles, scurrying away from our own heads with running thoughts ceiling fan spinning above us. Lawnmowers in front of me shake, hardware store paint cans. The horizon…

Books ReviewsEssay

By: Balu George The Oneness of all things God is the taste in water, the radiance of the moon, the snow on mountain tops, and the twinkle in the baby’s eyes. God is the body, the hair, the feet and…

Fiction

By: Tahira Z. “It’s time to leave, Meera. Are you ready?” Meera’s mother, Mrs. Joseph knocked on her door. Meera opened the door, wiping the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Her mind continued to replay the incident…

Fiction

By: Daginne Aignend She feels restless, tensed, without a reason actually just nervous and twitchy. It was the time of the day they call the twilight zone when daylight slowly fades into total darkness. A deep resonant sound rumbles in the…

Fiction

By: T.R. Healy Travers scarcely got across the suspension bridge when the top of the Chesterton Column appeared in a corner of the windshield. He winced. Just a shade over a hundred feet, the marble obelisk was built shortly after the…

Poetry

By: G. Louis Heath I am looking at the motorboats racing up And down, going nowhere it seems, in the Pursuit of pleasure. This is recreation on The mighty river that runs through my town. I sit on a bench…

Books Reviews

By: G. Louis Heath A phalanx of muscular, gray cloud gazes Dimly on my day. I hear thunderbirds Behind the thunderheads. Or maybe they Are chariots roaring out of Rome, drawn By sky horses. Yes, more like that. I think…

Poetry

By: G. Louis Heath The sky that Sunday spring evening Curdled burnt-orange and salmon pink Against a canopy of blue, a motley sky Over fugitive snow, so evanescent as to Defy my sense of what is. Snow takes Its leave,…

Poetry

By: Lynn White We were the pure gold people. The golden generation of bouncing baby boomers who had it all, the best music, the most fun and the security and optimism of a golden future. Now we have had our…

Poetry

By: Lynn White These people here, those people there. What do they know. What do they care. What will touch their little lives, to move them, shake them, disarrange them. What will pinch them, wake them, make them sit up,…