Lush Peaches Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Lush Peaches

Rating: 4.5


I sleep in the Louvre like Chagall
My colors run with metallic blue
Soft purple lives in the mind of Monet
Cryptic acrylics dried in movements
James Joyce, Virginia Wolf
Read me underground love letters
Bust of Rodin and Chopin's piano
You are drums of Napoleon's army

Carriages carry her solemn guillotine
Tonight the Ice Queen demands chastity
Pose as serene as gothic Notre Dame
Easel sits during the reformation
Freedom is dangerous and risqué
Morality as precise as a ballet
Sit for me while I paint your nipples
My pallet is filled with lush peaches

Sunday, November 16, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: art
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Bri Edwards 18 November 2014

sorry, i ain't sitting for you unless the room temperature is at least 73F. my nipples can't take anything cooler for too long. unlessssss the price is right. got any pomegranates? thanks for sharing. bri :)

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Sandra Feldman 16 November 2014

You paint with words. in tones of French Impressionism. Impressive and well done

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Joseph Narusiewicz

So St Paul, Minnesota
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