shrouded moonshine, dying bogs heavy footsteps, silent sigh grinning pumpkins, freezing fog rotting woodsheds, burning eyes rattling claws on windowpanes bloodstained napkins, dirty deeds echoes from the one-way lane screaming […]
a beggar with a cardboard sign on bluish blistered bending knees her eyes are dull they’ve lost their shine I’m passing by, avoid to see I cannot face her misery […]
We are passive as our leaders gerrymander; we are powerless, concussed to torpor; we are given gold pietás as reminders, that we are sappers, we are the lame supporters; and […]
the dread of autumn’s tungsten dearth its rotting shrouds that fructify nefarious booze, to drunken mirth with lies of blissful apple-pies we sashay to its threnodies and warm our hands […]
My skin is crawling from the words we said With sleeplessness they’re dearly paid for you tomorrow I still anticipate as this nervousness will dissipate I curse and cannot settle […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Björn Rudbergs writings 