Plastic Jesus
Manic for his mansiona man of sort, a snake-oil driller, boasterskilled at nothing, still believerin himself, his self, a self to serveto kneel before Gilded heart is hiding stonesas for […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Greatness claimed
Cattle die, kindred die,we ourselves also die;but I know one thing that never dies, –judgment on each one dead.Havamal 77 A viking chieftain in a praise of selflet carve his […]
Kettlebells and swords
Today when going to the gym and waiting for the class to begin I overheard a discussion about the preparations for an upcoming wedding. The bride-to-be talked about all the […]
A cloud somewhere
When my hands have gonefrom writing cursive into typingmy notebooks blank,and ink has lost its meaning, Poetry is far away from dustbut rests unreadin a place that’s not a bookshelf. […]
The Language of laundry
The language of laundryis told in silencebetween neighborssometimes in secret,or a cry for help,like bedsheets washedtogether with lingerieon a Wednesday in Marchmay whisper infidelitywhile a ripped dresson Monday morning maybe […]
