Joseph Narusiewicz Poems

Every moment is a flower in bloom
We reach for the inward color
Violets of a tempered life
Yellow daffodils growing in sunlight
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On a throne of woven adoration
She smiles like a Viking Queen
I kneel
I bow
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They chase the butterflies of Mendocino
Blue sea but not as blue as their eyes
Peacock feathers play and fly in my dreams
I see sisters running in the lush fields
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Violet feathers wisp like acceptance
The world has no rest
Times are fences and evil
Will you take me in?
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Little shops with old wood floors
Alleys where artists drink espresso
Flamenco guitarist
Notes ring like singing blue birds
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Banished like ivory with no blood
Gray swamps in Manchester crowds
Bits and pieces of the new stained glass
Now I am one of the lost
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His head carried in the hands of madness
Pose for Rodin like scarves of silk
Purple scarves in the slave market
Destiny is always a trade
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Long Island electric pink
Fashion - the dolls of the dying
Their glass eyes in black make up
Blue green orange red hallways
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Nietzsche’s burned out ones
Those between the bull’s horns
Two dimensions shifting
You get it but it’s killing you
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Little lamp without style on a small table
Black and white lovers contrasted by fate
A stair way in the Bronx
Brownstone working class dreams
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