Joseph Narusiewicz

Bronze Star - 2,249 Points (9/29/50 / So St Paul, Minnesota)

Joseph Narusiewicz Poems

41. Another Good Day 5/29/2015
42. Another Psychosomatic Night 5/11/2012
43. Another Time 7/5/2012
44. Ansel Adams Knew 1/3/2013
45. Apples 1/30/2014
46. Appreciate Your Friends 3/24/2015
47. Arab Spring 9/16/2012
48. Art And Asylum 12/9/2011
49. Art Of Karma 6/13/2015
50. As I Nap 6/2/2015
51. Asleep 12/6/2011
52. Atheism 4/22/2012
53. Authentic 8/3/2013
54. Avatar 12/19/2011
55. Awakened By Love 12/18/2011
56. Away Out 8/5/2014
57. Awesome Light 2/16/2013
58. Bach 12/7/2011
59. Back Of A Cab 11/15/2011
60. Back To Church 4/7/2014
61. Baltimore 4/27/15 4/28/2015
62. Bare Bones 3/16/2014
63. Bastille 11/14/2012
64. Bayesian Inference 8/8/2013
65. Beauty Defined 4/26/2012
66. Beauty Has Won 8/10/2014
67. Bed Of Eve 12/6/2011
68. Bed Of Ghosts 11/19/2011
69. Beginnings Forever Beginning 12/17/2011
70. Begonias 12/8/2011
71. Bells Of Harmony 11/26/2014
72. Bells Of Hope 11/18/2011
73. Bernadette 12/8/2011
74. Bethlehem 11/29/2011
75. Better World 3/28/2014
76. Between The Rabbit And Creature 8/14/2013
77. Beyond Gold 12/21/2011
78. Beyond The Stars 11/14/2014
79. Biggest Lie 12/22/2011
80. Bird Of Flight 12/5/2013
Best Poem of Joseph Narusiewicz

Papaya Dreams

Her flowered scarf is old
She is the fishing village
Open market by the banyan tree
Recluse on an island of peace
No Gauguin and his syphilis
Ideals of Rembrandt’s jewels
Salads of organic gardens
Alaskan mountains
I hear the rain
Fragrance of grass
Purity of a cotton shirt
Violet and lilacs
Walk the road to town
No clocks
Wood bowls and spoons
The breeze from the sea

Nap on a hammock
Wicker hats
Lanterns and candles
A game of cards
Swimming
Waves and the tide
A storm
The wind
Lovers are ancient beads
Moonlight on...

Read the full of Papaya Dreams

She Loves Sex

Dice on a surreal table
Seventy languages thundering
The dream is warm with little rabbits
Fields to run in
Stars with no graves
Forests out the car window
Dwarfs and the elephant man
Your father doesn’t visit
The lover mother on my quilt

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