Night in the Ukraine
This darkness grew from greed to grab the landfrom branding brothers lesser than the mudthat clings to boots; when falling bombs seem plannedto murder toddlers, women and let bloodbe spilled […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Between the shelves
Between the shelvesin a golden afternoonhe dwells,the aged aged manand lost librarian,no longer eye-candybut still my fancy‘cause he knows the questionsto pair with allmy answers,carefully collected,obstinately carriedto his spotbetween the […]
Preyed
Ravenous, I eye you,scrutinizing slips of skingawking, oglingfantasizinghow smoothly hairwill wind around my handbefore I yank and drag youto submission. But I meet your gazeand your flick-knife-smileobliteratethat innocence,turning me from […]
Iron rain
In iron rain from rockets, limbs are tornapart, consumed in thermobaric flares;we hear a toddler calls for help; we mournas lookers-ons; we watch but do not dareto intervene, to simply […]
Ekphrastic wind – four American Sentences
Only a wild breeze may kiss memories of sunshine into linen. Small bare feet struggle in mud in the last effort to cross the border Even after the bombings, his […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 