A day for Schopenhauer
When summer hesitates like it does today he bends with wind and willow close to water with his weight morosed. Benched he sits alone dropping breadcrumbs for the geese He […]
Category Archives: free verse
Morning is remorse
Morning is remorse, as lipstick left on glass, stale last left beer, left in scent of cigarettes, sunlight razor blades. The shower she left running as she left me drowsy […]
All and nothing
They say that ink is blood and poetry are scars, but just like scars need skin, your words need paper. You seek the hush of cites and the buzz in […]
My knack
I wasn’t really doomed, didn’t have the knack, to solder, disassemble or to build a boat I wasn’t doomed to be an engineer until I slipped, and slide ruled into […]
Blood and keyboards
Let’s feast on words, pretend it’s hunger or symphony as wheels on wet tarmac. Let’s syllable — reflect on undulation of grass in motion, or patient toads in waiting. Let’s […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 