Whispers of the timber
Though dead, these grains of wood, as skeins unfold, with hands as kites, in prayer wave; a wind of words, a wish across the plains, “Please save the world from […]
Monthly Archives: November 2015
Dinner at the beach
Reflected sunlight ends the breath for us a dinner it’s a death as silver fades on muscled scales, to sizzling oil, from fin to tail, with garlic’s dressed She serves […]
A handsome man
We walk in wisps of nauseous fumes, in tickling rot of hate: in words, in deeds. We’re destined, weighted with our AK-47:s, and C4-belts. We hate your joy, your music […]
I miss the songs
I miss the music, and the way we laughed before they came, when only wine was red. I miss the innocence with friends, the draught of beer we shared before […]
My Christmas passed
I miss my father’s calloused hand in mine the silence when, on Christmas morn, we walked into the snowy woods to find some greens to decorate, adorn our crib, the […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 