The language of laundryis told in silencebetween neighborssometimes in secret,or a cry for help,like bedsheets washedtogether with lingerieon a Wednesday in Marchmay whisper infidelitywhile a ripped dresson Monday morning maybe […]
The screams insideis a pressure cookerbuilt from smiles, acceptinglies, injustice, corruptionbelieving I’m aloneuntil… …until somethingstirs the air voice of thousandson every streetcalling out in protestagainst the emperorwho with lack of […]
By sea I rest in muted blisswith whisper of the waves is thismy sunscape? My skin caressed is kissed and pleasedto be tempted, tickled teasedby sunbeams I dress with leaves […]
Once in a lifetime you tiptoe intoa vacant room, not just devoidor airless but breathless, dustlessas in being left out; not outof spite but in care, like a seain turmoil […]
You might not believe me, but I never foraged for mushrooms to get high, I did it only for umami. I’ve always felt connected to mycelium, the underground part of […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Now we see through a glass, darkly
Björn Rudbergs writings 