Joseph Narusiewicz Poems

Edge of the thorns of vulnerability
We wait for bliss like a dream
Addiction where the rain is fire
She touches me with ancient knives
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Fangs behind the lush evening
Razor teeth like falling stars
The subjective without priorities
Her eyes like Cleopatra’s whip
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The dark rain falls
Some say it is a sanctuary
Some fear the deep caverns
Fog in the morning jungle
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Solstice elves quiet as a fox
Light and snow on the morning pines
Vivaldi writes for the seasons
Symphony of grace and beauty
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Sacrosanct blue waters pure and timeless
Eyes of the sun look upon the fields
Something inside belonging to mystery
The hope that we have not totally blown it
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We dance like jazz songbirds
I pick you up when your joy flows
Out of the sea deeper than what we see
Languages of the eternal skies
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Cupid has many arrows
Some wait for Valentines Day
I go where the river flows
Where waters drown me
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Galleria sober with magenta circles
Victor Hugo rings the strange bells
Guillotines of the repressive museum
Dialectic maidens voluptuous and serene
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Grandparents met in Japan after the war
A secretary and a soldier
A wounded soldier
My other grandparents were from Iowa
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A desk by a window
A quiet room with a few antiques
Two book shelves and the internet
I visit so many poets and writers
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