Erotic Poetry

EROTIC POETRY
Paintings by Egon
Schiele
And then there is this sound: a red noise of bones, a
clinging of flesh, and yellow legs like wheat ears coming
together.
I listen between the burst of kisses, I listen, shaken
between breaths and sobs.
I am looking, listening, with half my soul in the sea and
half my soul on land, and with both halves of my soul I
look at the world.
and even if I close my eyes and completely cover my
heart, I see a dull water falling, in dull drips.
It's like a hurricane of jelly, like a waterfall of sperm and
jellyfish.
I see a cloudy rainbow running.
I see the water passing through the bones.
SEXUAL WATER Fragment PABLO NERUDA

In the night at your side
The words are keys, they are keys.
Desire is king.
May your body always be
a beloved space of revelations.
"Revelations"
Alejandra Pizarnik
I will dance on the vegetable carpet, have
the wine ready in the sound crystal,
we will drink the golden liquor
celebrating the night and its
freshness. I will dance like pure land,
like the earth I will be a treasure, and
in giving myself pure I will not find
disgrace, for giving yourself is a form
of the High. I will dance so that you
forget everything and I will give you
the intoxication you ask for until
Venus passes through the heavens.
But perhaps something will be hidden
from you, that pagan of an
impoverished century I will not let all the
veils fall.
"Modern"
Alfonsina Storni
Inhabit me, penetrate me.
Let your blood be one with my blood.
Your mouth between my mouth.
Your heart enlarges mine to explode...
Tear me apart.
Whole fall in my gut.
Let your hands walk in my hands.
Your feet walk on my feet, your feet.
Burn me, burn me.
Fill me with your sweetness.
Let your saliva bathe my palate.
You are in me as the wood is in the stick.
I can't do it like this anymore, with this burning
thirst.
With this thirst burning me.
The loneliness, their ravens, their dogs, their
pieces.
"Prayer"
Juan Gelman
I think about your sex.
Simplified the heart, I think of your sex,
before the mature daughter of the day. I feel
the button of happiness, it is in season.
And die an old feeling in the brain
degenerate.
I think of your sex, most prolific groove
and harmonious than the womb of the
Shadow,
although Death conceives and gives birth to
God himself.
Oh Consciousness, I think, yes, of the free
brute who enjoys where he wants, where he
can.
Oh honey scandal of the twilights.
Oh silent roar. Odumodneurtse!
“I think about your sex”

Cesar Vallejo
A flower
not far from the night
my dumb body
it opens
to the delicate urgency of
dew.
"Lovers"
Alejandra Pizarnik
Mia: that's your name. What more
harmony? Mine: daylight; Mine: roses,
flames.
What an aroma you pour into

my soul If I know that you love
me! Oh My! Oh My!
You melted your sex With my

strong sex, Melting two
bronzes.
I sad, you sad... Mustn't you

be then
Mine until death?
"Mine"
Ruben Dario
As everything turns around I can
always talk about myself
And you know I'll be talking about you
Always
We are all the center of the world
Believe me
Where you begin, I end.
Flash of lightning
Tilsa Otta
I want you to slide like a fish over
my body, slippery, enter me and
make me a sea
Rage of Life / Julia Santibáñez

Open sex, become a waterfall, forget your
sadness. Let go of the child who lives in
your dreams. Gallantly open your warm
floodgates to this flake of honey, to this
animal that trembles like a wisp of wind,
to this rough fruit that is going to sink into
the light with rapture, to search like a
deer with its eyes closed
the nipples of the air, the two breasts of
the day.
“Open Sex Fragment”
Ana Istaru
Thighs of my defeated neck, place of
my cheeks at rest, place of my
purple teeth, veneer of saliva, last
thing of my hands, confinement of
pigeons, swallow of blood, used
vertigo, blade of my guillotined
heart. Round, full thighs, my wife's
thighs and my side, and with a
strange air.
Mint of horror.
With a melted and burnt smell…
“Fragment of The Poem of the Thighs”

Jaime Sabines
I will tell you: I am a cedar woman,
anguish woman
woman like wheat like violet
like watermelon and storm.
I'm looking for an island to breed on,
to invent my freedom and my body
and all my movements
Kyra Galvan
Diary of a seducer
It is not your sex that I am looking for in

your sex
but dirty your soul: deflower
with all the mud of life what has not yet
been experienced.
Leopoldo María Panero -

It smells like blood mixed with
lavender...
It smells like blood mixed with

lavender… coming among a smell of
glow. The burnt flowers smell like blood
and the fire smells like a sudden cypress
of blood. A sudden shower of stars and
blood descends from the air, resolved
into odors, and a tornado of aromas
and colors leaves the world blinded by
blood. Cold and sick and sleepless and
howling, the fever unleashed jumps, like
a tremor, across the lonely terraces. As
the moon coagulates on the ledge, the
shirtless teenager watches her groin fill
with poppies.
(Between the carnation and the sword,

1940)
RAFAEL ALBERTI
Sometimes
Writing a poem is similar to an orgasm: it
stains the ink as much as the semen, and
sometimes it is even more difficult.
There are afternoons, however, in which I
manipulate the words, I bite their breasts
and their agile legs, I lift their skirts with my
fingers, I look at them from below, I do what
I always do to them and, despite everything,
see: it doesn't happen! nothing!
Cesar Vallejo expressed it very well: “I say it
and I don't run away.”
But he hid it.
Angel Gonzalez
Yo. to
I let myself be touched by you
on the streets
in front of everyone
semi-naked
you oppress some infinite part of me
orgasm
And one more time

your sharp sex
is here.
Frida Varinia Ramos (1960)

Cover me, love, the roof of my mouth
with that rapturous extreme foam,
which is jasmine of those who know
and those who burn, sprouted at the
tip of rock coral.
Make me crazy, love, its salt, crazy

Your lancinating sharp supreme
flower, Bending its fury in the diadem
of the mordant carnation that runs
wild.
Oh tight flow, love, oh beautiful

tempered bubbling of the snow
through such a narrow grotto raw,
to watch how your fine neck slips,

love, and it rains jasmine and saliva
stars on you!
RAFAEL ALBERTI
From the woman to the man
God made you a man for me.

I admire you from the depths of my
subconscious with a strange and
overflowing admiration that has a hem
of tenderness. Your problems, your
things intrigue me, they interest me
and I watch you while you talk and
discuss, talking about the world and
giving it geography of words. My mind
is prepared to receive you, to think
your ideas and give you to think mine;
I feel you, my partner, beautiful
together we are complete and we look
at each other with pride, knowing our
differences, knowing ourselves as
women and men and appreciating the
dissimilarity of our bodies.
Gioconda Belli
THE GENTLE DANCE .
We kiss for the pure absolute pleasure of kissing

ribbons of tongues teeth like winged fish feast of
saliva gyrations waltzes birds
your mouth slot cherry currant my tongue seagull

comet mermaid
they meet they touch they get tangled
sailors of a journey without round trip
Your mouth is the sea, my tongue, a sailing ship.
Rosa Maria Roffiel

Two bodies facing each other are
sometimes two waves and the night is the
ocean.
Two bodies facing each other

are sometimes two stones and
the night desert.

are sometimes linked roots in
the night.

are sometimes knives and the
night is lightning.
Two bodies facing each other are two

stars that fall in an empty sky.
Octavio Paz.
erect
Clock without parts
Sink glass needles into my lips that don't speak
Your tongue on my wall of water
collapse my bricks one by one
Fingers gravitate in the air
They hammer firmly, they travel and get wet
with my Blue Danube that outlines
two Ashen Ardeas that advance in my belly
and they enter your mouth.
Rita Lucía Gutiérrez Vega

I CONTEMPLATED
SO MUCH
I contemplated so much the beauty

that my vision belongs to it.
Body lines, red lips.

Sensual members.
Hair as if copied from Greek statues;
always beautiful, even disheveled,
and barely fallen, on the white
temples.
Faces of love, just as I wanted them
my poetry... in my youthful nights, in
my hidden, found nights...
Konstantinos Kaváfis
FANCY
Naked, weak, anxious, I bring my body close to the
sketch of your image.
With fantasy diluted on your skin, you silently

contemplate the proximity and the sweaty heat
expelled from my pores.
Slowly, I open my mouth, a volcano consumes this

anxiety dry and I beg for more.
More of this wasteful anguish, more of this

apocalyptic handful, more of this mystery.
A fleeting eternity moistens the cluster of my

crotches and condensed I search in the dawn for a
surname for this dream.
Subtle, naked, weak, semi full, semi pleased,

masturbated I contemplate my dilated pupils in
front of the mirror that silently says nothing.
Silvia Rodríguez Bravo

I know of the slender night so naked that
our bodies were one.
I know about silence in the face of dark
people, about silencing this love that is
otherwise.
Carlos Pellicer.
"Naked"
Lick, sand, your neck, and wrap your

sleepy bosom cold in your recumbent,
and then I will go to kiss that snake of
your tongue, which the wind raves.
It gently wounds that flower of the bay

that moistly assumes its cheek, and
blinds that quiet burning mouth that
does not want to kiss my mouth.
Then he touches her belly, and kisses the

golden skin of her warm waist, and there
in her center she falls in love.
That another well-sprayed flower from my

garden will temper your fever, if your
tongue burns in its thickness.
Jose Luis Cano

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EROTIC POETRY

SEXUAL WATER Fragment PABLO NERUDA

The words are keys, they are keys.

May your body always be

a beloved space of revelations.

“I think about your sex”

What an aroma you pour into

You melted your sex With my

I sad, you sad... Mustn't you

Rage of Life / Julia Santibáñez

“Open Sex Fragment”

“Fragment of The Poem of the Thighs”

It is not your sex that I am looking for in

but dirty your soul: deflower

with all the mud of life what has not yet

Leopoldo María Panero -

It smells like blood mixed with

(Between the carnation and the sword,

And one more time

Frida Varinia Ramos (1960)

Make me crazy, love, its salt, crazy

Oh tight flow, love, oh beautiful

to watch how your fine neck slips,

God made you a man for me.

We kiss for the pure absolute pleasure of kissing

your mouth slot cherry currant my tongue seagull

sailors of a journey without round trip

Your mouth is the sea, my tongue, a sailing ship.

Rosa Maria Roffiel

Two bodies facing each other

Two bodies facing each other

Two bodies facing each other

Two bodies facing each other are two

Clock without parts

Sink glass needles into my lips that don't speak

Your tongue on my wall of water

collapse my bricks one by one

Fingers gravitate in the air

They hammer firmly, they travel and get wet

with my Blue Danube that outlines

two Ashen Ardeas that advance in my belly

and they enter your mouth.

Rita Lucía Gutiérrez Vega

I contemplated so much the beauty

Body lines, red lips.

With fantasy diluted on your skin, you silently

Slowly, I open my mouth, a volcano consumes this

More of this wasteful anguish, more of this

A fleeting eternity moistens the cluster of my

Subtle, naked, weak, semi full, semi pleased,

Silvia Rodríguez Bravo

Lick, sand, your neck, and wrap your

It gently wounds that flower of the bay

Then he touches her belly, and kisses the

That another well-sprayed flower from my

Jose Luis Cano

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