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 — […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Dandelion eyes
High on saccharin, placebo sugar-rushed she’s dancing close to paper- moons; she’s burning cold from ink-washed stares. Her hands are skies and kites, she calls for crows on naked boughs. […]
A silent boy
I was a quiet boy who liked to draw, construct, create. Often I withdraw from my boisterous baby sister who filled the rooms with shrieks and laughter. But left alone […]
On Lucifer’s slipstream
X-rayed by your razor eyes, bass-beat baseline, glockenspieled, curse me blind with whimpered cries. I bend before you girl, raw and tender, peeled I feel you, come and hang with […]
Reading spines
His finger traces spines; blind he reads the gilded letters embossed as braille he’s forming stanzas in his mind. Heart of darkness, beating. Wanting. Craving fleur de mal. But the […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 