Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Samantha Memi The early morning light streamed through the hospital windows, capturing floating specks of dust, and glistening on the polished floor. The two sisters waited in the reception area, not noticing the sunlight outside. Having travelled through the…

NewsPoetry

By: Soma Roy This book of poems by Dr. Kiriti Sengupta is elegant and is a pleasure to hold. The depth of the richness of the images of the Floating Lamps invites the reader to explore further and accompany the…

Fiction

By: Rajendra Roul The weather could not have been more pleasant.  There was no humidity. No sweating either. A soft breeze was blowing calmly darting a romantic surge through their spines. The sun was nowhere in the sky. That does not…

Poetry

By: Linda M Crate i guess the biggest lie anyone has ever told me is that people care for all they ever have cared about is what they can take from me because greed seems the economy of these times,…

Poetry

By: Linda M Crate i. we are over like july now forgotten by snow white winter, and his chariots of ice there is no more red because it had to end. ii. the butterflies had fallen into the blackness of…

Poetry

By: Linda M Crate i don’t understand the purport of shaking up my little world, and throwing me into an alien world because as pleasurable as it was it means nothing now; you manipulated my emotions and shook up my…

Poetry

By: Pavithra Joseph Pretty, frilly dresses, unsuited to trees and skinned knees; perfect, though, with stilts for shoes that cramp toes, and that wind-swept Munroe-esque pose. We learn young to confuse discomfort with comfort

Poetry

By: Pavithra Joseph She’s not a c***, not a cuss word, or a b a t t e r r e d suitcase of disembodied. unclaimed. parts. She’s as complete, and incomplete, as human as you.

Poetry

By: Pavithra Joseph They stood across each other packed into a train carriage; separated by others, unspeaking, looking out, or into their digital lives. He looked at her, letting the veil drop- so she saw him undress her in technicolor, in…

Fiction

By: Gaither Stewart ‘…..There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.’ (Homer’s ILIAD) Alessandro Bramante was in love with love. Like other lovers Alessandro was the…