Joseph Narusiewicz Poems

Dice on a surreal table
Seventy languages thundering
The dream is warm with little rabbits
Fields to run in
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Everything is perception or is it?
What about morals?
Do you still believe in them?
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Writing for whom, for what?
I like the brevity of poetry
The honesty and the realness
You can say anything
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Someone gentle looked at me
Her eyes brought me to peace
She seen my deep loneliness
I didn’t hide a thing
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Your needs are like rain
Like sun on trees
Diversity is essential
My dear can you let me be me?
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No more self-destruction!
If they blow it up I can’t help it
Time for a walk
Time for a garden
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Darkness like blood on the Apian Way
Chaff, poison and sordid wine of jealousy
Steel cuffs like stones sharp as rape
Learn the world and the sea below
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Moved by emotion I refuse to penetrate
Disguised with portals of Ulysses
Too much edge
Too much confusion
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Twilight zeal the corridor of fragments
Justification with rites as empty as graves
I must back out
I must be spiritual
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Upon the wiles of night I cry
No love of mine to hold
No future besides tremulous heaven
This earthly man like a shipwreck
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