Bengt O Björklund Poems

Dim definitions of see-through-ness
whirl to the sound of rainbows over cities
in the early hours of getting close.
...

Speed is all one man’s view can reckon with
in times of a continuous aftermath.

A wild offspring in unholy confusion
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Weird tools you fools oversee
lend themselves to lost cure and lore,
play in waves of sweet blue shades
where saxophones proudly walk ahead,
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Climbing the narrow steep alleys
leading up to the favela
gave my heart added beats
and the feeling of belonging
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When I first met bandit Celso
I knew who he must be
just seeing him there
at the crossing of steep alleys,
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I met her in a bar
on a small side street
to the Avenida da Copacabana.
A dark butterfly with intent
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Fettered in yesterday’s dim chronicles
slow trains still carry their freight
in a tell tale acceleration
into unknown lands of dire deeds
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Born in water of slow dark extinction,
shaped in my old mother’s agony,
I care not for all that gloom
that fills the eye’s see through lapses,
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There are earthly days when time
just seems to tap dance
around fire flies and pretty girls
on their way to mystery’s meat market
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This soft morning surrender I flow,
with a rolling of blistering suns,
I carry with tall trees and the dying
of winds across the fleshy grass.
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