Counting ribs
Fleshed on bone and dressed in charcoal cloth he’s still more neolith in awe of winter solstice lying sleepless listening to lightlessness of night or a lovesick chimpanzee, in how […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Spoon-feeding mother
when parting came slowly as words you forgot or when you were lost we thought we had time to listen to music to read or to dine we never could […]
Stars I can’t see
My skin is too thin not to write about stars cause caring’s a burden that’s heavy to bear. So I sit here writing of stars, about wind in my hair, […]
To change or to be changed
To change or to be changed; that’s the difference between the noblest art of suffering or to sling the arrows for your future. It’s either to take arms against the […]
Let this be my manifesto
My future is to walk the aisles of libraries. To follow and to lead, to search in ancient scrolls and books not printed yet. My future is to write my […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 