Insomnia
Your scent is moon, a song of lilies left at night; you’re whispered pages torn from notebooks, memories; you’re my rage, insomnia, the emery of finger- prints as left on […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Get busy living
“It always comes down to just two choices. Get busy living, or get busy dying.” Stephen King in Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption When did our thinking turn to likeness […]
The end was just beginning
She was a melody, a flute She was the voice of skylarks at the breaking point when summer’s close to spring. Her hands were doors to other doors a dream […]
Departure time
He wore sunglasses. Suit but no tie. The pub was empty and he approached the two men in the corner. ‘You can call me Ulsterman’ Gordon extended his hand to […]
He can only speak in poetry
He always thought that bridges could be built as essays (unabridged). That if he listened — after- wards he’d be allowed to speak his mind. “It’s like crossing ridges — […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 