Treasure Island

Joseph Narusiewicz

(9/29/50 / So St Paul, Minnesota)

Bronze Age


Step into the unreduced thorn
Adventure where madness eats each other
Recluse known by fables of consciousness
On the cliffs where funerals lark
Banks of the bloody fall river
Stars rule the centurion
Justification with eagle shields
Shame dies like a cowards imagination

Resolute mercy circles every sun
Night has gentle sermons
Peace is a quiet angel
Life needs only forgiveness
Light from the lanterns
Torches in the garden
A kiss the world always remembers
Caesar trembles

See the legions prance
Cold fields marked by great stones
Islands of wild cryptic languages
Hearths and kilns and olive trees
Tiled floors in colonnade marble
Till the indentured slave
Brogue of the conquered
The Bronze Age shreds its honor

Submitted: Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Bronze Age by Joseph Narusiewicz )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Sand, Joey Jones
  2. Variations, Kewayne Wadley
  3. T, Vinaya Joseph
  4. माँ गंगा Maan Ganga (Hindi), S.D. TIWARI
  5. Blessings, Dr. Prabir Acharjee Nayan
  6. A Happy Poet, REALLY?, Sandra Feldman
  7. Each Day I Live a Life and Die!, Monk E. Biz
  8. If Compassion were in Fashion! (Nudity), Monk E. Biz
  9. Green Flag, Nassy Fesharaki
  10. My Forest is not Deep, But it is Green, Monk E. Biz

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]