No more playing tricks
Numbed on drugs she gets no kicks fatigued she won’t be playing tricks again on sleazy dudes; on pricks she loathes; on normal men; a mix of jeans and middle-class; […]
Monthly Archives: May 2020
A Verse in Vain
This verse is neither plea nor pardon, it’s the scabs I pick, the poetry of open wounds, an ever-present future of every Monday past. These syllableeding sentences wrenched from aching […]
Time arrested by death
Touch me darkly my black beauty princess, my deep-purple queen across golden acres youth over mountains of joy and down into valleys, down into darkness of depths, on the pathways […]
Moon-silver Mother
Night had never been Robert’s friend. He never found solace swimming in moonlight and starlight had always been colder than ice. His mother left him at night to his father […]
Ice cream
You never grew from blackbirds, still your voice is even nearer to the gentlest green of May, more ferocious than the honeysuckled noise of luscious anemones and lilies of the […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 