What’s the color of peace?
It must be a color less like the soil not ochre, sienna or brown reminding of trenches or graves; it cannot be red as the rage of revenge, the color […]
Tag Archives: poetry
This is what I mean when I talk about roses
It’s neither the sun nor the waves, neither mountains nor forests. It’s not the boughs of our oak in summer, when laden with leaves. It’s neither the nightingale’s song nor […]
When death came to town
When Death come to town she claimed our flesh by selling us dust; whiter than pale as the twilight her poisonous kiss of nuclear mushrooms and alpha-decay. When Death came […]
The devoted monk of Atlantis
The zealous crowd arrived, ten minutes to midnight to burn the scrolls they blamed for rising tides, for brine and water flooding lower levels of Atlantis. The librarian tried in […]
Burning summer cold
A sticky mongrel-tongue — this summer swelter; I’m roped in the reek of course blankets by a smothering wind; the bare skin of my thighs sticks to the creased vinyl […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 