Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Phil Temples There! Mrs. Li spied the glint of the shiny aluminum can in the bright winter noonday light on the sidewalk. Like a diamond in the rough, the can was partially obscured under a pile of trash stacked…

Non-Fiction

From the book ‘Radical Peace: People Refusing War’ By: William T. Hathaway   A former student of mine works as a janitor. After graduating from college he worked as a market researcher and an advertising salesperson, but both jobs soured…

Fiction

By: Gaither Stewart When my taxi crossed the Ponte di Risorgimento the drizzle that had set in that afternoon had turned into a steady downpour. Yellow lights reflected eerily off the upriver part of the great avenue snaking along both…

Fiction

By: Sam Rapth She was very tall, say five feet, 8. A short skirt desperately tried to hide her fleshy assets. Her t-shirt struggled to keep those two white rabbits of hers in place. How many such beautiful snapshots could…

Fiction

By: Tom Sheehan “Brickley!” yelled his boss Marquis, “if you don’t get out of the way I’ll kick your ass for good.” And Marquis, darker but plump himself, wearing an atrocious suit with orange lines in it, smiled that puffy-cheeked…

Fiction

By: Michael C. Keith A blocked bowel will make you howl! –– Anonymous Elliot Connors began to experience intense abdominal pain on his return flight to Providence from the Midwest. For the twelfth time, he’d attended his annual HVAC convention…

Poetry

By: Natana Vasuki I swim across the blue sky Along with grey old clouds To meet with the fiery red sun That smiles majestically with its rays I sing along with the silvery moon That stays single all night I travel…

Poetry

By: Adreyo Sen Nights, I am Jane Eyre ready to submit in the warm of silk to Rochester. My Rochester! Once he was Beauty’s beast. I stole him from the undeserving thing. Then he was Jackman as Wolverine. His claws made…

Poetry

By: Debleena Majumdar The quarterly butterfly meet Has on its agenda, The Judgement day For the wayward way Of the unsocial butterfly. “Aha” says the Butterfly Head Stroking his shiny wings “Present the facts, pray What do the social stats say?…

Poetry

By: Kousik Adhikari Like an ancient tree you know all the seasons, its colors why it changes in the rain and after the smell of rain-soaked earth spells magic, I have seen you listen rain tickling through its core drops…