Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Hannah Thurman Month 1: Olivia realized, for the first time, how quiet everything was. She had just gotten home from her job at the lab, stepping carefully around the gouges in the lawn left by the renovators’ ladders. The…

Poetry

By: Abhishek Jha I The phone rang waves all around him echoing, bouncing off invisible walls. Petulant ringing, his eardrums on the verge of rebellion. II He opened his eyes stared into the darkness or was it dark at all?…

Poetry

By: Ranjeet Sarpal Your mother has suffered silently. Washing carrots and potatoes She   retorted to his numbing indifference And retired to soybean oil . Perhaps she still loves him. She Preserving his complaints and grievances In the pickle jar…

Books Reviews

By: Ranjeet Sarpal Love happens intermittently sometimes sporadically , For instance , may be between response and reaction , while being with you or without you , between words and silence , by 8pm or by 11 am , On Sunday…

Poetry

By: Akash Rumade Twas winter of 89, You were just a kid aged ten. Nothing to lose or to win, You enjoyed breaking window panes. Then one night, twas shiny dark, You were lost searching your almighty’s mark. Maybe he…

Poetry

By: Linda M. Crate  lost in the periphery of your gaze i saw the tulips of red dragon dreams we traverse old haunts you forget me i suppose it’s less painful than remembering because then you’d have to face exactly…

Poetry

By: Linda M. Crate  you could be more than an animal someone who prowls at night with their dog looking for an easy target; just because i’m a woman doesn’t mean i won’t fight, and you won’t like me if…

Poetry

By: Linda M. Crate  it’d be different maybe if i knew you, and you knew me; but i don’t have a clue who you are, and you’re asking me out? it’s an insult to everything i am; there’s no need…

Poetry

By: Linda M. Crate  women are not your broodmares, just like you don’t want objectification; neither do we so knock us off your pedestals we’re not paintings to hang in your art gallery— “do you want to go out?” you…

Fiction

By: Bob Kalkreuter The girl’s tight red dress bounced around like a bag of fighting cats. A car slowed and honked. “Well lookie there,” said Ernie, leaning against one of the palm trees that fronted the empty parking lot directly across…