Enquiring minds................

[GuiltyPleasure]

......oh OK, I'm nosy!

As a result of a conversation with Tzara I began to wonder which erotic poems were/are the most effective to an individual. The task I set, should you choose to partake, is reveal which poem or poems gave to that familiar tingle. There are many to choose from but we all have favourites in all genres, what’s your favourite erotic poem?

It can be one of your own or another's. Post it here - or at least a link, please.

 

[Angeline]

Oh this is a great question, you PoeTesse, you.

A Few of Mine
Bibliobliss
Caramel Suite

Lauren Hynde
The Stylization of Self

darkmaas
Dark Feel in Wormwood

smithpeter
dogwood

eagleyez
Tree Line


To name but a few.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

There was one particularly that got me fanning myself I think it was by Remec so will have to go and see if I can find it

 

[bronzeage]

Erotic is as erotic does.


Hot Biscuits

Scratch baker girl in a dusty apron.
Shortening and flour, momma, Cut me in
and bathe me in sweet milk
till I squeeze sticky through your fingers.
Brown me top and bottom,
butter and jam
me in your mouth.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Erotic is as erotic does.


Hot Biscuits

Scratch baker girl in a dusty apron.
Shortening and flour, momma, Cut me in
and bathe me in sweet milk
till I squeeze sticky through your fingers.
Brown me top and bottom,
butter and jam
me in your mouth.

First word rather put me off 'scratch' doesn't do anything erotic to me I'm afraid

 

[bronzeage]

First word rather put me off 'scratch' doesn't do anything erotic to me I'm afraid

In this case, "scratch baking" refers to starting with the basic ingredients, with no prepared mixes.

 

[butters]

Erotic is as erotic does.


Hot Biscuits

Scratch baker girl in a dusty apron.
Shortening and flour, momma, Cut me in
and bathe me in sweet milk
till I squeeze sticky through your fingers.
Brown me top and bottom,
butter and jam
me in your mouth.

ummmhmmmm scrummy!

 

[bronzeage]

ummmhmmmm scrummy!

Thank you. I like short pieces that focus on the feeling and emotion of desire.

This is one of my favorites,

Flower Shop

Black coffee in a handled bowl,
morning paper still warm from the press,
under the umbrella by the door
waiting for my morning flower show.
Seven fifteen and Venus is stepping off her shell,
shaking off the sea foam and searching for her keys
to unlock the flower shop
and put every petal and blossom to shame.
Goddess of flowers,
they bend and twine to her will
and smell sweeter for her touch.
In her shop,
May I help you she says,
and I am helpless.
It is impossible.
to take a flower
from her hand and give it
to another woman.


I posted this on a poetry site a while back and got a scathing comment from someone who wanted to know how I could hold an umbrella, a newspaper and a cup of coffee, all at the same time.

 

[butters]

Thank you. I like short pieces that focus on the feeling and emotion of desire.

This is one of my favorites,

Flower Shop

Black coffee in a handled bowl,
morning paper still warm from the press,
under the umbrella by the door
waiting for my morning flower show.
Seven fifteen and Venus is stepping off her shell,
shaking off the sea foam and searching for her keys
to unlock the flower shop
and put every petal and blossom to shame.
Goddess of flowers,
they bend and twine to her will
and smell sweeter for her touch.
In her shop,
May I help you she says,
and I am helpless.
It is impossible.
to take a flower
from her hand and give it
to another woman.


I posted this on a poetry site a while back and got a scathing comment from someone who wanted to know how I could hold an umbrella, a newspaper and a cup of coffee, all at the same time.

this is really lovely, bronze! the visuals and sensuality of it ... touch, smell, the sound of the rain hitting the umbrella, the hints of taste and colour and ... the ineffable romance of the situation.


philistines are everywhere. i'm sure the comment gave you a wry smile.

 

[bronzeage]

this is really lovely, bronze! the visuals and sensuality of it ... touch, smell, the sound of the rain hitting the umbrella, the hints of taste and colour and ... the ineffable romance of the situation.


philistines are everywhere. i'm sure the comment gave you a wry smile.

I thought that a patio table under a big umbrella, outside a coffee shop was a universal thing. There have been many mornings when I stopped for coffee on my way to work and sat outside, watching people go by.

I have never had much luck with descriptive poems. I know some people who can spin seventy lines about a sunset and make it look effortless. I prefer poems that invoke what I felt at the moment.

 

[butters]

I thought that a patio table under a big umbrella, outside a coffee shop was a universal thing. There have been many mornings when I stopped for coffee on my way to work and sat outside, watching people go by.

I have never had much luck with descriptive poems. I know some people who can spin seventy lines about a sunset and make it look effortless. I prefer poems that invoke what I felt at the moment.

oops, there was me thinking 'england' with its regular rainyness and umbrellas


anyway, gotta go. have a blast, bronze

 

[Angeline]

Thank you. I like short pieces that focus on the feeling and emotion of desire.

This is one of my favorites,

Flower Shop

Black coffee in a handled bowl,
morning paper still warm from the press,
under the umbrella by the door
waiting for my morning flower show.
Seven fifteen and Venus is stepping off her shell,
shaking off the sea foam and searching for her keys
to unlock the flower shop
and put every petal and blossom to shame.
Goddess of flowers,
they bend and twine to her will
and smell sweeter for her touch.
In her shop,
May I help you she says,
and I am helpless.
It is impossible.
to take a flower
from her hand and give it
to another woman.


I posted this on a poetry site a while back and got a scathing comment from someone who wanted to know how I could hold an umbrella, a newspaper and a cup of coffee, all at the same time.

Well that's lovely, a lovely sentiment and beautifully said. Your critic must have been challenged in some way (like imaginationwise). I can hold more than that and still manage to walk relatively straight. I have a friend who I once saw fall down steps (four of em) holding a cup of cofffee and she didn't spill any! (I would have helped her but it happened really fast lol).

 

[bronzeage]

Well that's lovely, a lovely sentiment and beautifully said. Your critic must have been challenged in some way (like imaginationwise). I can hold more than that and still manage to walk relatively straight. I have a friend who I once saw fall down steps (four of em) holding a cup of cofffee and she didn't spill any! (I would have helped her but it happened really fast lol).

It just shows that when you think you have perfectly framed a scene with the fewest words necessary, you find someone who is looking out a different window.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

In this case, "scratch baking" refers to starting with the basic ingredients, with no prepared mixes.

Ooops well you have funny sayings over there !!

 

[Angeline]

It just shows that when you think you have perfectly framed a scene with the fewest words necessary, you find someone who is looking out a different window.

True enough, and good reason to remember that all feedback can be valuable. I try to learn something from any feedback I get, even the really mean stuff (although it's tough to get anything from "your poems suck"). In fact some of the best things I've learned were from people who gave good, specific critique.

Ooops well you have funny sayings over there !!

This from a woman who called me cack-handed.

 

[bronzeage]

Ooops well you have funny sayings over there !!

It's usually phrased, "made from scratch," to say one had no help from Betty Crocker.

True enough, and good reason to remember that all feedback can be valuable. I try to learn something from any feedback I get, even the really mean stuff (although it's tough to get anything from "your poems suck"). In fact some of the best things I've learned were from people who gave good, specific critique.



This from a woman who called me cack-handed.

I have been fortunate to receive very good critique from time to time.

Good critique is hard to come by. I think it's easy to tell the horrible from the good, but the area between good and excellent is very fuzzy and subjective.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

It's usually phrased, "made from scratch," to say one had no help from Betty Crocker.



I have been fortunate to receive very good critique from time to time.

Good critique is hard to come by. I think it's easy to tell the horrible from the good, but the area between good and excellent is very fuzzy and subjective.

tut why didn't you say so then and how can I concentrate when you keep staring at me like that ?!

 

[bronzeage]

tut why didn't you say so then and how can I concentrate when you keep staring at me like that ?!

There is a story told about the early days of cake mixes. All one had to do was add water and bake. It made a perfectly good cake with no sifting or measuring. Sales were terrible. Women said it just didn't seem like real baking.

The solution was to change the mix, so that an egg was required. Beating an egg into the batter was like real baking and sales soared.

Fast forward 60 years and the sale of cake mixes drops to an all time low. The reason? The egg was too much work. They added powdered egg back to the mix and solved the problem.

I'm staring at you, I'm staring with you.

 

[Tzara]

I'm staring at you, I'm staring with you.

Just don't say "You are getting very sleepy. You will remember nothing when you awake."

That would, like, creep me out, man.

 

[KillerMuffin]

*sigh*

It's sad, but no poetry has ever given me the physical tingle. I get a mental tingle of intellectual interest, but not in sex. I get it in the use of the language. The barrier poetry doesn't cross well is the required narration that, from what I've observed in my many years here, that people in general seem to need to get all het up. Not even Rochester. Of course, we live in pornographically cynical times. If I show some erotic poetry to an Amish virgin, well. For the sake of argument, I'm assuming the reader is someone who is used to the erotic.

First, most poetry these days is lyric, so narration is ridiculous (as in worthy of ridicule) when it does attempt to use narrative devices that work so well for arousing in the lyric. That's not to say that lyric poetry can't have arousing images, but just how arousing can those images be? To some, I think very arousing. To most? I think it leaves them cold. They might enjoy the poem and, particularly in the case of good poetry, find a lot of merit in the poem, but it won't make them all nipply.

Now, in narrative poetry, it should be possible to take that required narration that brings the physical arousal into the poem because, after all, it allows for the narrative. You can tell the story of two people having sex and push the buttons. However, I think this is where the poetic form (as opposed to prose), becomes somewhat limiting to the general reader. There's the, ah, poemness of a poem that must still be present. It has to have line breaks, to start with. It should probably have some imagery, maybe some kind of sound quality, rhythm, and a theme. In front of that is the narration. A bad narrative poem (take a piece of prose and chop it up into lines) would probably do the trick and get people all hot, but would it truly be a poem? Perhaps, perhaps not. A good narrative poem (one that requires attention to poetic devices in the foreground just as much as the narration), would probably push the subject (sexy stuff) into the background enough to dim the arousal factor for the porn-savvy reader. Why? Because the things that make a narrative poem a good poem don't make good porn. It would still arouse a few, but not the general reader.

It's the difference between erotica and porn.

 

[Tzara]

......oh OK, I'm nosy!

As a result of a conversation with Tzara I began to wonder which erotic poems were/are the most effective to an individual. The task I set, should you choose to partake, is reveal which poem or poems gave to that familiar tingle. There are many to choose from but we all have favourites in all genres, what’s your favourite erotic poem?

It can be one of your own or another's. Post it here - or at least a link, please.

Okey dokey, since I've been named as partial cause for this thread, I guess I should put up. Or out. Or you should all put up with me. Or put me out.

One of those things.

Tessie and I were talkin' about one of her poems for my April Fool thread and she said something like it wasn't good and I said something like it kind of "stirred" me, if you know what I mean.

(PM me if you don't and I will explain in such gratuitous detail you'll be sorry you made the request. )

Anyway, I think there are very different "erotic" poems. What I meant in talking to Tess was poems that were sexually arousing, in some way, to me. But I think the term "erotic" also applies very much to poems that are about love, softer, more intimate poems about a deeper relationship than simply banging some sex opposite (or the same, depending on yer own desires).

A different experience, anyway. Not necessarily better (into all lives may a bit of slam-sex fall), but different. Still "erotic."

Angie's poem "Bibliobliss" exemplifies this, I think. Its eros is more love than raw sex, and the poem captures that very well.

As another, slightly different, example I would cite this poem by Yeats. This one, for me, is kind of in between a "love" poem and a "sex" poem. It's about sexual longing (probably Yeats being whiny about Maude Gonne, though I doubt she ever did that shaking her hair out thing with him). It's a very erotic poem for me because it evokes certain erotic/sexual feelings (mainly longing).

Oh, hey. If I'm talking about Poems That Make Me Hot, I have to include Kim Addonizio, to whom I once wrote a poem titled "Confessions of Kim Addonizio's Love Slave" and who is not only writes the sexiest poems I can think of (eat your heart out, Sharon Olds), she's like way hot her ownself. "What Do Women Want" always makes me itchy.

Or yeah. Poets here.

Well, how's this fer sample:

• SeattleRain, Nothing Like It: Quite possibly the most arousing poem I have ever read in my life. Particularly how it closes, which returns the narrator to her ordinary and ordered life. I mean, this is "girls like sex too" run through a stadium PA system. Yow.
• darkmaas, L'hotel Malaka: Image is everything; don't tell us too much. This one makes me want to smoke a Cuban cigar afterwards, while I'm sweating on the veranda, watching Sophie pad around in her ice-dampened panties.
  
  There is more to sex than penetration, people. Just sayin'.
• Victoria_Lucas, Yesterday's Fodder: True, erotic, depressing, true (I did say true?). How we all think of ourselves, not always at our best times.
• Triestesse2, Best: Sex evolves over time. We get, well, different. Relax into each other.

For my own poems, I don't think I write well about sex or eroticism, but would pick these as ones I don't hate too much:

• Lepidopterist: Serious.
• How to Channel Courtney Love: Not serious.
• Three Hundred Count Percale: Downright fakey girly, actually. So shoot me.

 

[bronzeage]

Just don't say "You are getting very sleepy. You will remember nothing when you awake."

That would, like, creep me out, man.

That trick never works. They get sleepy, but they always remember.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

I certainly understand free-standing umbrellas with tables underneath. As someone said, perhaps its a funtion of location. I'm in Houston, so we get a good bit of rain, but sumething to protect against that sun is good (until the humidity drives one back in for the AC).

I'll try to get to the theme of this thread at some point. Some of my own do, but then the situation is conducive to that sort of thinking, rather than coming in from the blue and not looking for erotic arousal.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Some yummy poems being resurrected here

 

[bronzeage]

If a man can make a woman laugh, he can make her do anything.


Let me be your Stud Buckly
and you can be my Scooter Pie.
Hang your love on my neck
and I can kick the sky.
Spread the blanket on the grass
and feed me what I eat.
Smear jelly on the biscuits
and mustard on the meat.
When lovers roll in the grass
and laugh like lovers do,
kiss me with your sweet lips
and I will roll with you.

Let me be your Pup Lover
and you can be my Mindy Moll
I'll carry you in my arms
and toss you like a doll.
I'll hold the string in my teeth
and you can fly me like a kite
or hang me in the apple tree
and pull me down for a bite.
Pour wine in my open mouth
and feed me bits of bread.
Make a pillow of your lap
and let me rest my head.

Let me be your Bottom Dollar
and you can be my Shiney Dime
I'll drop you in my piggy bank
and keep you for all time.
Spend me like a sailor
or steal me like a thief.
I can be a millionaire
or a bankrupt on relief
Pin me to your shirt
and wear me like a pearl,
And I will shine like all day light
Riding on my sweetest girl.