First of August 2023 at the Met
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please”. The young guide leads us through the hall of artifacts from human atrocities. There are instruments of torture to the left: an iron maiden, […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Not being a beast
I always seek shadows of June but get lost in December searching for sunshine. I never stay up until midnight but read wolf hour poems at dusk. If you ask […]
Time is finite
Time is neither the passing of persons, nor is it ash. It isn’t soil or decay. Time is neither the tick-tock-clocking carefully measured in sand. nor the carcass of hogs […]
No way back
I stumble on the cobbled lane this cul-de-sac, this rutted one-way-street. Nowhere I see a crossroad where a path diverges, nowhere a bridge leads back. How can a lie be […]
Island of your words unsaid
On oily doldrum waters, in the speechless sea a lonely island lies. It’s soil is filled with crosses and on its craggy shores rotting carcasses of moored intentions are scattered, […]
