Belowed
My darling singthe songsthat singe my witand bruise my bloodthat trill the tunesto turn the daylight dark. My darling danceme frantic,strange, demented,then touch me tipsy,skin-on-skinned,and I,eternally your slave,will follow youbelow— […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Wingless
This poem is versedfrom October’s dying leavespenned with the rainon the parchment of wetted streets,riddling their secretsfrom questions unknown. This poem is nota spreadsheet, not deadstill piled among leavesleft purpled […]
Skyward raised
Oh, venerable leader,YOUare like the fungi,a toadstool fed from mycorizafrom the common soil,from our daily toil. Leader, you,who we shouldn’t name,is not a God but a humble manwho gives us […]
Piles
Tonight the lidless eye of the hunter’s moon stares through the window, painting my thoughts in cold silver. Outside the feral wind wrings the few remaining leaves and hurls them […]
What we still take for granted
Today as dawn just had brokenI walked through the woodson gold covered pathsto the sound of tiring leavestrembling in wind. A faint drizzle of rainwets my hair and covers my […]
