Erotic Poems Read online

  and tottered to a glass bumping things.

  she picked wearily something from the floor

  Her hair was mussed, and she coughed while tying strings

  viii.

  her careful distinct sex whose sharp lips comb

  my mumbling gropeofstrength(staggered by the lug

  of love)

  sincerely greets, with an occult shrug

  asking Through her Muteness will slowly roam

  my dumbNess?

  her other, wet, warm

  lips limp, across my bruising smile;

  as rapidly upon the jiggled norm

  of agony my grunting eyes pin tailored flames

  Her being at this instant commits

  an impenetrable transparency.

  the harsh erecting breasts and uttering tits

  punish my hug

  presto!

  the bright rile

  of jovial hair extremely frames

  the face in a hoop of grim ecstasy

  ix.

  in making Marjorie god hurried

  a boy’s body on unsuspicious

  legs of girl. his left hand quarried

  the quartzlike face. his right slapped

  the amusing big vital vicious

  vegetable of her mouth.

  Upon the whole he suddenly clapped

  a tiny sunset of vermouth

  -colour. Hair. he put between

  her lips a moist mistake, whose fragrance hurls

  me into tears, as the dusty newness

  of her obsolete gaze begins to. lean….

  a little against me, when for two

  dollars i fill her hips with boys and girls

  ii.

  when i have thought of you somewhat too

  much and am become perfectly and

  simply Lustful…. sense a gradual stir

  of beginning muscle, and what it will do

  to me before shutting…. understand

  i love you…. feel your suddenly body reach

  for me with a speed of white speech

  (the simple instant of perfect hunger

  Yes)

  how beautifully swims

  the fooling world in my huge blood,

  cracking brains A swiftlyenormous light

  —and furiously puzzling through, prismatic, whims,

  the chattering self perceives with hysterical fright

  a comic tadpole wriggling in delicious mud

  vi.

  when you went away it was morning

  (that is, big horses; light feeling up

  streets; heels taking derbies (where?) a pup

  hurriedly hunched over swill; one butting

  trolley imposingly empty; snickering

  shop doors unlocked by white-grub

  faces) clothes in delicate hubbub

  as you stood thinking of anything,

  maybe the world…. But i have wondered since

  isn’t it odd of you really to lie

  a sharp agreeable flower between my

  amused legs

  kissing with little dints

  of april, making the obscene shy

  breasts tickle, laughing when i wilt and wince

  vii.

  i like my body when it is with your

  body. It is so quite new a thing.

  Muscles better and nerves more.

  i like your body. i like what it does,

  i like its hows. i like to feel the spine

  of your body and its bones, and the trembling

  -firm-smooth ness and which i will

  again and again and again

  kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,

  i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz

  of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes

  over parting flesh…. And eyes big love-crumbs,

  and possibly i like the thrill

  of under me you so quite new

  xix.

  she being Brand

  -new; and you

  know consequently a

  little stiff i was

  careful of her and(having

  thoroughly oiled the universal

  joint tested my gas felt of

  her radiator made sure her springs were O.

  K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

  up, slipped the

  clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she

  kicked what

  the hell)next

  minute i was back in neutral tried and

  again slo-wly; bare, ly nudg. ing(my

  lev-er Rightoh

  and her gears being in

  A 1 shape passed

  from low through

  second-in-to-high like

  greasedlightning)just as we turned the corner of Divinity

  avenue i touched the accelerator and give

  her the juice, good

  (it

  was the first ride and believe i we was

  happy to see how nice she acted right up to

  the last minute coming back down by the Public

  Gardens i slammed on

  the

  internalexpanding

  &

  externalcontracting

  brakes Bothatonce and

  brought allofher tremB

  -ling

  to a: dead.

  stand-

  ;Still)

  xxx.

  (ponder, darling, these busted statues

  of yon motheaten forum be aware

  notice what hath remained

  —the stone cringes

  clinging to the stone, how obsolete

  lips utter their extant smile….

  remark

  a few deleted of texture

  or meaning monuments and dolls

  resist Them Greediest Paws of careful

  time all of which is extremely

  unimportant)whereas Life

  matters if or

  when the your-and my-idle

  vertical worthless

  self unite in a peculiarly

  momentary

  partnership(to instigate

  constructive

  Horizontal

  business…. even so, let us make haste

  —consider well this ruined aqueduct

  lady,

  which used to lead something into somewhere)

  16.

  may i feel said he

  (i’ll squeal said she

  just once said he)

  it’s fun said she

  (may i touch said he

  how much said she

  a lot said he)

  why not said she

  (let’s go said he

  not too far said she

  what’s too far said he

  where you are said she)

  may i stay said he

  (which way said she

  like this said he

  if you kiss said she

  may i move said he

  is it love said she)

  if you’re willing said he

  (but you’re killing said she

  but it’s life said he

  but your wife said she

  now said he)

  ow said she

  (tiptop said he

  don’t stop said she

  oh no said he)

  go slow said she

  (cccome? said he

  ummm said she)

  you’re divine! said he

  (you are Mine said she)

  72.

  wild(at our first)beasts uttered human words

  —our second coming made stones sing like birds—

  but o the starhushed silence which our third’s

  iv.

  What is thy mouth to me?

  A cup of sorrowful incense,

  A tree of keen leaves,

  An eager high ship,

  A quiver of superb arrows.

  What is thy breast to me?

  A flower of new prayer,

  A poem of firm light,

  A well of cool birds,

  A drawn bow trembling.

  What is thy body to me?

  A theatre of perfect silence,

  A chariot of red speed;

  And O, the dim feet

  Of white-maned desires!

  vii.

  After your poppied hair inaugurates

  Twilight, with earnest of what pleading pearls;

  After the carnal vine your beauty curls

  Upon me, with such tingling opiates

  As immobile my literal flesh awaits;

  Ere the attent wind spiritual whirls

  Upward the murdered throstles and the merles

  Of that prompt forest which your smile creates;

  Pausing, I lift my eyes as best I can,

  Where twain frail candles close their single arc

  Upon a water-colour by Cézanne.

  But you, love thirsty, breathe across the gleam;

  For total terror of the actual dark

  Changing the shy equivalents of dream.

  ix.

  When thou art dead, dead, and far from the splendid sin,

  And the fleshless soul whines at the steep of the last abyss

  To leave forever its heart acold in an earthy bed,

  When, forth of the body which loved my body, the soul-within

  Comes, naked from the pitiless metamorphosis,

  What shall it say to mine, when we are dead, dead?

  (When I am dead, dead, and they have laid thee in,

  The body my lips so loved given to worms to kiss,

  And the cool smooth throat, and bright hair of the head—).

  iii.

  my deathly body’s deadly lady

  smoothly-foolish exquisitely, tooled

  (becoming exactly passionate Gladly

  grips with chuckles of supreme sex

  my mute-articulate protrusion)

  Inviting my gorgeous bullet to vex

  the fooling groove intuitive…

  And the sharp ripples-of-her-brain bite

  fondly into mine,

  as the slow give-

  of-hot-flesh Takes, me; in crazier waves of light

  sweetsmelling

  fragrant:

  unspeakable chips

  Hacked,

  from the immense sun(whose day is drooled

  on night—)and the abrupt ship-of-her lips

  disintegrates, with a coy! explosion

  iv.

  first she like a piece of ill-oiled

  machinery does a few naked tricks

  next into unwhiteness, clumsily

  lustful, plunges—covering the soiled

  pillows with her violent hair

  (eagerly then the huge greedily

  Bed swallows easily our antics,

  like smooth deep sweet ooze where

  two guns lie, smile, grunting.)

  “C’est la guerre” i probably suppose,

  c’est la guerre busily hunting

  for the valve which will stop this.

  as i push aside roughly her nose

  Hearing the large mouth mutter kiss pleece

  vii.

  as

  we lie side by side

  my little breasts become two sharp delightful strutting towers and

  i shove hotly the lovingness of my belly against you

  your arms are

  young;

  your arms will convince me, in the complete silence speaking

  upon my body

  their ultimate slender language.

  do not laugh at my thighs.

  there is between my big legs a crisp city.

  when you touch me

  it is Spring in the city; the streets beautifully writhe,

  it is for you; do not frighten them,

  all the houses terribly tighten

  upon your coming:

  and they are glad

  as you fill the streets of my city with children.

  my love you are a bright mountain which feels.

  you are a keen mountain and an eager island whose

  lively slopes are based always in the me which is shrugging, which is

  under you and around you and forever: i am the hugging sea.

  O mountain you cannot escape me

  your roots are anchored in my silence; therefore O mountain

  skilfully murder my breasts, still and always

  i will hug you solemnly into me.

  viii.

  my lady is an ivory garden,

  who is filled with flowers.

  under the silent and great blossom

  of subtle colour which is her hair

  her ear is a frail and mysterious flower

  her nostrils

  are timid and exquisite

  flowers skilfully moving

  with the least caress of breathing, her

  eyes and her mouth are three flowers. My lady

  is an ivory garden

  her shoulders are smooth and shining

  flowers

  beneath which are the sharp and new

  flowers of her little breasts tilting upward with love

  her hand is five flowers

  upon her whitest belly there is a clever dreamshaped flower

  and her wrists are the merest most wonderful flowers my

  lady is filled

  with flowers

  her feet are slenderest

  each is five flowers her ankle

  is a minute flower

  my lady’s knees are two flowers

  Her thighs are huge and firm flowers of night

  and perfectly between

  them eagerly sleeping

  is

  the sudden flower of complete amazement

  my lady who is filled with flowers

  is an ivory garden.

  And the moon is a young man

  who i see regularly, about twilight,

  enter the garden smiling to

  himself.

  viii.

  sometimes i am alive because with

  me her alert treelike body sleeps

  which i will feel slowly sharpening

  becoming distinct with love slowly,

  who in my shoulder sinks sweetly teeth

  until we shall attain the Springsmelling

  intense large togethercoloured instant

  the moment pleasantly frightful

  when, her mouth suddenly rising, wholly

  begins with mine fiercely to fool

  (and from my thighs which shrug and pant

  a murdering rain leapingly reaches the

  upward singular deepest flower which she

  carries in a gesture of her hips)

  ix.

  o my wholly unwise and definite

  lady of the wistful dollish hands

  (whose nudity hurriedly extends

  its final gesture lewd and exquisite,

  with a certain agreeable and wee

  decorum)o my wholly made for loving

  lady

  (and what is left of me

  your kissing breasts timidly complicate)

  only always your kiss will grasp me quite.

  Always only my arms completely press

  through the hideous and bright night

  your crazed and interesting nakedness

  —from you always i only rise from something

  slovenly beautiful gestureless

  x.

  my youthful lady will have other lovers

  yet none with hearts more motionless than i

  when to my lust she pleasantly uncovers

  the thrilling hunger of her possible body.

  Noone can be whose arms more hugely cry

  whose lips more singularly starve to press her—

  noone shall ever do unto my lady

  what my blood does, when i hold and kiss her

  (or if sometime she nakedly invite

  me all her nakedness deeply to win

  her flesh is like all the ’cellos of night

  against the morning’s single violin)

  more far a thing than ships or flowers tell us,

  her kiss furiously me understands

  like a bright forest of fleet and huge trees

  —then what if she shall have an hundred fellows?

  she will remember, as i think, my hands

  (it were not well to be in this thing jealous.)

  My youthful lust will have no further ladies.

  xiii.

  you said Is

  there anything which

  is dead or alive more beautiful

  than my body, to have in your fingers

  (trembling ever so little)?

  Looking into

  your eyes Nothing, i said, except the

  air of spring smelling of never and forever.

  …. and through the lattice which moved as

  if a hand is touched by a

  hand(which

  moved as though

  fingers touch a girl’s

  breast,

  lightly)

  Do you believe in always, the wind

  said to the rain

  I am too busy with

  my flowers to believe, the rain answered

  xiv.

  is

  it