Phantom pains
Clayed by lunacy, I’m blind — chagrined: a shadowed outcast, charcoal-veined. My arms are kites with phantom pains of puppy fat. The moon’s a drum and wind’s a suite for […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
The rain is a steak and kidney pie
The rain today is more like air — thick enough to slice, a noose, a steak and kidney pie served cold. I pull the collar of my coat to cover […]
Coloring outside the lines
Necklaced words, stringed to sense of sentenced tense, pretense and lies: a beaded noose. I overdosed on rules — ignored advice vis-a-vis what’s wise and unveiled my vice, I enjoyed […]
Vacation planning
“Do you remember how we used to love camping?” “Yes”. “Do you remember vistas and how we went exploring once?” “I do”. “Do you remember how we loved to gaze […]
Sickened by roses
You promised me love You gave me your word You left me alone And left like a bird. Thou returned too late My senses grown cold Suspicions in heart I’m […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 