Blackbird pottery
Just from the blackbird such a song was heard in spring. Just when overheard love flings undeterred and sings. So it hooked and stirred breaking heart to sherd with stings. […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
There is always a limit
Calvin pocketed his hands gazing at his sneakers. “Weed? donnu ma.” Sybil couldn’t believe how quickly her bright-eyed son had transformed into this gangly teenager. Welcome acne, welcome worrying. Gone […]
To a poet with a broken dictionary
When you lost your muse; your perfect notebook clean yet unabused. Soft jazz, coffee, basking in a velvet light. Nothing. Void. No word. You’re flipping through your dictionary finding only […]
Let’s storm
Come baby please Come snake yourself around me. Come dance Let’s break their norms. Let people stare cause we don’t care You are fire I’m your ice Let’s rage Let’s […]
Pripyat, Ukraine
Footfalls groaning gravel crushed; moan of wind and crazy doors… In spring the dandelions break through crumbling bricks as mortar dust to death. Where once were windows, stares the empty […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 