Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Archaeology/HistoryEssay

By James Aitchison It all began in 1775 when Swedish chemist Carl Wilhelm Scheele invented a stunning new pigment — a green more vibrant, more luminous, than anything seen before.  The secret?  The miraculous new pigment was copper arsenite, also…

Poetry

By: Bruce Levine Monday morningThe work week begins The last of September Anticipating fall October beginnings Winking an eye Harvests and beer fests Soon pumpkin pie The year winding down Another one gone Ice cream and candles Times Square alive…

Poetry

By: Bruce Levine Ideologic Dogma Ideologic dogmaTyped into a teleprompterRegurgitated by pundits Woven into conversations Taken as gospel according to the oracle of the day As long as it fits within the ideology Fiction parading as fact Reflected in the…

Poetry

By: James Aitchison As the tree needstime to grow, sotoo the soul.Unhurried wisdom,stepping softly,seeking the infinite.Nothing springs fromignorance;lives scattered tothe winds have noroots.In quiet soil,the soul flourishes.

Archaeology/HistoryEssay

By James Aitchison In London, just five miles east of Buckingham Palace, a mysterious underground language has evolved.  An English language wherein words such as “frog”, “soldiers”, “Aristotle”, “whistle” and “butchers” do not mean what they are supposed to mean!…

Fiction

By David William Jurgenson Popock opened his door and found a short Egyptian girl staring at him expectantly. She had large, watery green eyes, sleek diamond lips, with a luscious mane of black hair flowing down to her hips. Popock…

Poetry

By: Simon Heathcote Catholic Cuts in the Schism Thick black hair sashaying in clumpslike gold leaf bestowed on Toni’sSmall Heath shop — I was the grandsonof the local vicar who smiled and waveddown the High Street like reruns of a papal visit — and…

Poetry

By: John Ziegler Mulberries I remember orchids through the windowof a solarium’s silver glass, on Ruben Patterson’s property, his estate, with its mammoth mansion, with its broad veranda and 4 car garage, his cream – and – gold Stutz Bearcat….

Poetry

By: Jim Bates Deep forest strollingSunny skies blue asters bloomSuch serenity. Rocky granite gorgeCascading river echoesWildly roaring bliss. Solitary singerSongs sung with heartfelt passionVoice transcending. Walking pine tree woodsSkirting nefarious rootsHappily hiking. Stoney beach agatesPebbles swirling reddish huesWonder of eons….

Poetry

By: Richard LeDue “September Again” Trees painting pictures with their leaves,leaving us to ponder where they hidetheir paint brushes, or why we turnthose colours into bright remindersof approaching winter and another summerlost, but some are lucky and just stare,blinded by…