Joseph Narusiewicz

Gold Star - 6,730 Points (9/29/50 / So St Paul, Minnesota)

Joseph Narusiewicz Poems

761. Art Of Karma 6/13/2015
762. Morning Again 6/18/2015
763. Here Is My Number 6/24/2015
764. I Already Believe 6/26/2015
765. Wilderness 6/27/2015
766. Voice Of Peace 6/27/2015
767. Every Program 6/28/2015
768. Into The Shame 6/28/2015
769. Papaya Dreams 6/29/2015
770. My Angel 7/1/2015
771. Something Dark 7/1/2015
772. Crawling Around The Stars 7/3/2015
773. Hazel Eyes 7/8/2015
774. Rejoice! 7/10/2015
775. I Need Forgiveness 7/11/2015
776. My Fathers Garden 7/17/2015
777. Bionic Smile 7/17/2015
778. Parrot Of Ice 7/20/2015
779. We Meet Again 7/21/2015
780. Heavenly Stars 7/23/2015
781. Steel Kiss 7/24/2015
782. Like The First Night 7/24/2015
783. Warfare 7/25/2015
784. All The Vampires 7/26/2015
785. Gallery 7/26/2015
786. Her Mask 8/6/2015
787. Quiet River 8/7/2015
788. Perverse 8/8/2015
789. Withdrawal 8/8/2015
790. I Want Her Heart 8/10/2015
791. Your Sweet Ways 8/11/2015
792. See You At Seven 8/11/2015
793. Accessory To A Crime 8/17/2015
794. Pure Light 8/18/2015
795. I Am Listening 8/18/2015
796. Chimes Of Morning 8/20/2015
797. My War Is Over 8/22/2015
798. Come Home 8/22/2015
799. Time For Sleep 8/26/2015
800. A Good Kisser 8/27/2015

Comments about Joseph Narusiewicz

  • sean brown (4/11/2018 8:06:00 AM)

    you're a moron this is the dumbest thing ever

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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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