Joseph Narusiewicz

Silver Star - 4,397 Points (9/29/50 / So St Paul, Minnesota)

Joseph Narusiewicz Poems

361. Home 4/26/2012
362. Home To Home 12/2/2011
363. Honor 10/8/2013
364. Hope Has Flowers 5/30/2012
365. Hope I Can Feel 12/19/2011
366. Hot Enough For You? 8/2/2012
367. Hot Flash 5/22/2013
368. Hot Spots 3/11/2014
369. Hot Tub 12/21/2011
370. Hot Wretched Coals 9/13/2012
371. Hour Of Fire 12/19/2011
372. Hovering With Honey 4/27/2013
373. How I Wish 11/15/2011
374. How The Gold Shines 6/16/2013
375. Hunted 12/18/2011
376. Hunter S Thompson 2/12/2013
377. I Already Believe 6/26/2015
378. I Always Will 10/8/2012
379. I Am For Israel 8/24/2014
380. I Am Listening 8/18/2015
381. I Ask The Moon 4/8/2013
382. I Believe In Love 9/3/2013
383. I Belong 8/15/2013
384. I Dream Of You 12/9/2011
385. I Feel You 6/2/2012
386. I Have Fallen 1/12/2012
387. I Have Two Sides 1/18/2012
388. I Hope 1/3/2016
389. I Hurt A Dove 12/2/2012
390. I Like Both 11/28/2011
391. I Like My Home -new- 5/2/2016
392. I Love Trumpets 10/31/2012
393. I Must Be Patient 8/10/2012
394. I Need A Past 6/9/2012
395. I Need Forgiveness 7/11/2015
396. I Need My Friends 11/30/2011
397. I Pray For Thee 6/11/2012
398. I Repent 10/26/2012
399. I See A Dream 9/6/2014
400. I See The Cross 5/28/2012
Best Poem of Joseph Narusiewicz

London Fog

In the London fog she walks like light
Light as soft as the lofty stars
Dreams are haunted Liverpool ships
Herdwick sheep bleating by Lake Windermere
She sounds the bells of destiny
Oscar Wilde with a black cane
Morose of Byron
Her arms are blue opium alleys
Her kiss the ice of a pirates treasure

I move toward her
Chills of nights silk
We will never grow old
Back to our graves we must go
Our bed is the ancient mariner
Under the North Sea lovers laugh
Wales moans like Dylan Thomas
We have raged against the night
The fog of London is my ...

Read the full of London Fog

Two Shadows

Moral codes under black lace
Permeate the sensuous epidermis
We touch in sanctuary
We meet inside the dim lit cathedral
Past the sinew
Past the circus
There are symbols on your walls
Conversion is not dogmatic
Love walks these stone alleys

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