Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Gaither Stewart Damiano ignores the tourists standing four and five deep at the coffee and pastry counter up front, nods amicably at the cashier, and strides purposefully down the red- carpeted corridor that by now he knows centimeter by…

Poetry

By: Ranjeet Sarpal Pain survives on its capacity to evoke memories Carefully selectively Memories are underpinned Then repetition of selective memories deepens the agonized self Triggering sea storm in blood veins . Words are recalled instinctual touch is forgotten. The broken…

Non-Fiction

By: JD DeHart My life is a drifting, a constant shuffling forward. Who holds the cards? I do not know the name of the god who is in charge of this, the gambling god, the one with the quick hands at…

Poetry

By: Linda M Crate the trees and the sun beckon me outside and i follow without thought of the dishes or the laundry mopping or vacuuming floors life is made for the living and dust is for the dead; let…

Poetry

By: Linda M. Crate  you want to cage me, but my heart is too wild it even evades my rib cage i am wild and free a spirit that dances in the trees and stones of the river nature makes…

Books Reviews

By: Linda M. Crate oh, yes, vilify me vilify me you are the white knight trying to save me yes, the white knight and oh woe is you sweet saint you could not save the demon from herself! i’m sure…

Poetry

By: Neelam Singh Moments were moments You, the fulfillment of my desire My treasure exposed My freedom sold Moments were never like moments before Nothing felt No words said Restlessly I sobbed My soul ruined itself Moments were never like…

Fiction

By: Emily Eckart Greg had been watching Kayla for three months now, and he still wasn’t sure which of her details he liked best. She had her hair tied up messily. Her eyes were lined in dark makeup. Her skin,…

Poetry

By Reese Scott you sucked me off until there was only marrow as you grew bored and decided to stay using words gestures and language to hide your appearance into mine until there is nothing else i can see

Poetry

By: Khuswand Naidu Nor to hear Nor to see Nor to talk bad If be to follow what Ghandi said we be to called monkeys of Gandhigiri What to do in today’s world follow Gandhigri? Or make own path Or work…