Grey,we’re grey, betrayedaway slips daysaway our life’s astraywe walkdismayed in claywhile weighedwith words unsaid, Again it’s grey,it’s grey todayaway awaywe’re waylaidwe stray delayedsurveyedunpaidwe’re playeddelayed we waitwe wail a whilewe pray […]
I waited, from midnight to sevenon your doorstep to heavenbut you held on to the keysas I was left out here to freeze;now as morning has brokennot a word has […]
Through sulphur haze — a solemn wail from ocean depths when monsters raised on bulging backs, on silver scales. And from our shores we stared derailed in awe, bedazzled by […]
Not snooze no muse but poetry of bed sheet tangled wet with sweat. I’m mangled waylaid by the thoughts of nooses, snakes of fate and us. I’m yet awake no […]
His books are ghosts of poets lost the aged librarian is not alone at night when moonlight kisses frost on papers, words grow blood and bone of authors that he […]
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
Verba volant, scripta manent !
About fantastical places and other stuff
Björn Rudbergs writings 