Ink-dance
This poem is an ink- dance, it’s my trance, a riddle-maker’s tune for buds-a-bursts and barefoot-walks. A poem for the sake of sun-glassed stance for red-eyed-dawns and dusk of cotton-candy-skies […]
Category Archives: NaPoWriMo16
The answer is the not to be
When answers come today it’s not to be a thin white duke, a purple prince; a year the music died (again); in haze it’s seen comparing to a summer’s day […]
Tree of you
Dance me forests flowered glades dappled sunlight barefoot you. Dance me leaves arched above waving arms canopy of you Dance me oxygen chlorophyll breath of mine from verdant you. Dance […]
The elephant graveyard
There is a place where it’s said that elephants retreat in solitude to die. When the aging matriarch cannot lead or follow, and her daughters know the way, a day […]
In a ramschackle pub by the dock
The foghorn wailed, when at the bar through scurvy teeth a sailor hissed and slammed his fist. “Tonight I’m pissed” the room went silent, barmaid jarred remembered nights before the […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 