Our voices are volcanoes
Abyss, your eyes are calling, tempting darkly, over midnight waves, on wings I’m falling. In sun the wax is melting, but on skies I soar. My feet, once lead, have […]
Monthly Archives: September 2015
My nest
My nest is rust, it’s sand and dust it’s windblown emptiness, the sage of rheumy eyes. “I’m home again” it’s age of eggs, a yolk turned green. it’s smell, it’s […]
Notice: Looking for Musician
Oh yes.. here is a damn fine poet looking for a musician for their lyrics.
Tamer’s songs
With submissive talons, shaded eyes through leather gloves I feel his veins upon his wrist I dream of skies, my heart beats strong from sparrow’s pain. On thermal columns, once […]
A lethal dose of tender bricks
With mar(bled) masks and muted eyes from matrassed walls, the poet calls his voice is nails, his gaze is stone; alone in ash with ink he wails. But our sycophantic […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 