Underneath —were earthworms windaround the bonesof decomposing bodiesone skeletal fingerremains accusingpointing skywards. A declaring digitgiving evidence againstthe assassin witha spadefor digging graves. But will the cold moonever tell the taleon […]
My love can not be measuredin the bloom of roses red orin the sweetness of a summer cherry,but as an artichoke in autumn. My love is not as a breeze […]
As soon as I told my first lie, I could never go back. I had to cover up my stories with layers of deceit. Contradictions had to be covered with […]
In windlashed rainwe bendto struggle windwardfor ideas,new perceptions,to connect the reasonwith its cause;so when we findthe doors we knowmuch betterthan before. Today I host Open Link at dVerse, and as […]
Time is passinggentlymeasured by the wilting,by the sweetness of decayand by colors fading. Time is leavingstep by stepby lovers clingingto the scentpreserved as bookmarksin books forgotten. Time will stopby flowers […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Björn Rudbergs writings 