Ghosts of poets lost
His books are ghosts of poets lost the aged librarian is not alone at night when moonlight kisses frost on papers, words grow blood and bone of authors that he […]
Category Archives: dVerse
When days grow longer
When days grow longer moon turns pale And winter fades as sun turns brighter. At dawn the bay is pink with sails. When days grow longer moon turns pale The […]
Me – your tipsy moon
Name your poison: me; dirty elixir and shaken chaser, sour wind or tonic, tipsy moon between your sheets from vesper into dawn. It doesn’t matter cause for me it’s you […]
Slave to numbers
Around my wrist I have a gadget that calculates every step I take. The stairs I climb, the hills, every heartbeat and the way I run. It plots the time […]
Both life and cause of death
You’re butterfly effect — causality of songs, the meadowlark of summer days, the footsteps swallowed in mortality, an aftermath from nights and morphine daze. You’re both the timpani and piccola, […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 