His books are mirrorsand therefore in the voidbetweeneach volume juxtaposedthe space is infinite; he calls his librarythe universewhere everything (and everyone)but time prevailunchanged,while in the world outsideseason follows seasonand nothing […]
The forest is also a library,each tree being a bookevery bough is a sentenceand now as the spring tiptoesover moss and pine needlesthe birch buds are breakingand the books turns […]
The library is taste-and colorless, desert, seaexisting only on the edgeof your atmosphere,some would say it is largerthan the universewhile others claim it’s justa tiny box of liesillusion and a […]
Late in Aprilwhen the sun sets latesome sunrays piercethe silence of his library,with the savageryof spiteful scimitars. The aged librarianperceive the slightest tinglestarting in his stomachas from indigestion,it stretches through […]
January in the library offers timeto examine lacking heartbeats,a shallow breath, with daylightcloaked behind the pregnant cloudsburdened with persistent drizzle. January in the library offers timefor lucid purge and ostracism,for […]
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
Now we see through a glass, darkly
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry, haiku. Life, word play, puns, free verse
About fantastical places and other stuff
Björn Rudbergs writings 