After Mayhem
When ash has fallenon corpses, a stillness settlesin the shadow of mayhem,a numbness has grownfrom mourning the fallen,from the guilt of forgetting,the faces of neighborsand how laughter infectseven the mind […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Last snowfall
In my dreams, I am in Kyiv.Between the air raid sirens, silence is unbearable, fluffy, like cotton wool. Sometimes the thunder of far-away mortar explosions and I imagine waiting, waiting […]
Walking with the sun in my eyes
When morning’s broken, sun in eyesI walk with birdsong in my chestmourning for the sleep’s that lost to air raidsforcing children into basementswaiting for the blast to blow their futureinto […]
Getting warm
I rememberall the warmthI siphonedfrom your wordsfrom the passion,and the promisesof yours,maybe I believed or maybeI pretended thatyour writing wasn’t lies,but still, I may be warmfrom letter-lieswhile turning paperinto ash. […]
Poet’s passing
Fingers tracingmoon-words, seeing sensein star-song,in the nebulae, ink-spilled ontovellum, parchment, onto paper;and as silence settles,he listens for the voiceof a poet’s passinginto darknessmoving pages past his handsinto dreams, as he […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 