How to write an Erotic Poem.

[Cerriwiden]

The molocules
between us moving
closer joining breath
flesh almost met
fabric rustles
gravity descending
eyes locked
magnified desire
warms the fleeting brush
the plush surrender
tugged to life

 

[BooMerengue]

.

lmao!!! WSO?? What the hell is that??

 

[wildsweetone]

I swore okay? Get over it.


I love you



Okay, I was being brief and to the point. Can't you cope or something? lol

 

[BooMerengue]

I'm coping! I'm coping! sheeeeeeeesh!!

I'm also crackin up laughin! Have a nice day, Love!!

 

[HomerPindar]

Sorry for the delay here, finishing up the semester and kicking off the holidays - heckuva week

they left the hotel in a fervor of sexual sparks from the previous 5 times they had cum that morning. Feeling weak from lack of nutrients they set out on the town to find food to sustain them for the rest of thier day in sexual exploration. She thinks everyone needs a holiday such as this as they saunter down the sidewalk hand in hand. He looks at a pair of old ladies standing on the corner and suddenly smacks her ass hard and pushes her against a mailbox infront of the old women, kissing her hard against her lips and squeezing her bottom. She in return, kicks a legs up and growls at him; her eyes lowered and her pelvis thrust forward at him as to say fuck me now or get off. The old ladies calamor in shock at such a sight, as passersby gawk and stare. He pulls her from the mailbox and resumes holdling her hand, as she straightens her shirt. They nod at the old ladies still horrified at the sexual display and audacity they posses. With a smile and skip they set off to find a suitable restaurant for thier taste buds.

Well,robyn, sure you can guess what's next if you've been reading along, stretch it out for us (make it last, baby )

From there, you could work on chopping out words with different versions coming from different editing jobs.

Find one you like, and make sure the editing is saying what you want it to.

If you end up with something you like, ya did it right (have a smoke and start over again )

 

[HomerPindar]

Boo, thank you, I'll keep waffling/practising.

Carrie! hello! Nice to see you. Boy, you sure know your poetry! That last reworked stanza looks great. Wanna rewrite the rest?

Okay hold on I'll have another go.


~

Standing
he alone, she alone
hands clenching champagne glasses
conceding existence
people dancing to
excessive music,
tall green ferns sprouting
from brown clay pots.

eyes meet
gray
and
blue

A raised brow,
a lifted chin and
wry twisted smiles.
Lips parting,
shallow breathing.

A long
blonde bang
tumbles and touches
bare shoulder.
His eyes follow the fall,
a soft caress on
smooth porcelain skin.

Pink tongue darts out
returning moisture to
parched lips.

It looks like Carrie had the right idea here This has a stronger effect than spreading out the words toooooo much. But then, it's all about experimenting and finding what works.

From this you should be able to see three different elements involved:
1 - what you want described (as erotic or otherwise)
2 - the words you choose to achieve #1
3 - how you present the words in #2

Mind you, this does not mean you have to create the poem in that order, but I figured it was the easiest way to start

 

[HomerPindar]

Homer, my dear That doesn't mean I'm not ready to grow as a poet. That means that particular poem is just really special to me. If you haven't had this feeling, something's wrong! (clears throat, no offense)

It's not just feeling, it's how you convey that feeling to the reader. I'm not debating your feelings here, and certainly not my own, I'm suggesting that the words don't convey a feeling you insist is worthy of being set in stone.

I have posted something in the poetry section that is non-erotic for some help. Would you take a look at it please or do you want me to copy and paste it over?

Grin, saw that, and I'll catch up here eventually - which includes that poem there

Skin:

blushing, blushed, flushing, flushed, moist, hot, cold, warm, delicate, reactive, fragile, clean, dry, wet, tender, velvet-like, wrinkled, freckled, black, olive, tan, peeling, fair, flimsy, exquisite, fine, beautiful, frail, rugged, rough, dainty.

Can I take a break for a cigarette please? [/B]

chuckle, yeah, but those are adjetives, they don't describe anything without a noun - you've got a list (and thanks, will save me from making one ) now go on and write a description

 

[robynwildchild]

thanks

 

[wildsweetone]

From:

I watch as you walk down the street, my eyes supposed to be window shopping, a red dress with sequined flower, but my eyes don’t see it, they see your legs, your long smooth legs with feet slipped cleverly into strappy white shoes. Your knees are perfect, not knobbly like mine, not oversized, nor puny, they are simply perfect. That dress you are wearing fits almost like a glove, there’s a slight roundness to your tummy, a roundness that I’d kiss gods’ toes to palm, a roundness that a long time ago must have carried life within. But you do have a waist, I can see it clearly even though the black belt you are wearing sits kind of low on your hips. Your breasts are hanging, pendulous as you walk, nipples pointing downwards, you were once a breast feeding mother. Your shoulders are rounded, but none of anything matters for it is your chin that controls my stare. That slightly lifted chin with a dimple tells me so much about you, tells me how you have loved and lost, and how you will love again. It’s not often I’ll see someone walking down the street naked and accessorised.

~
(original version)
To:
Accessorised.

I watch as you walk down the street,
my eyes window shopping,
a red dress with sequined blue flower
and my reflection inside.
My eyes don’t see the dress, they see your legs,
your long smooth legs with
feet slipped precisely into
strappy white shoes.
Your knees are perfect,
not knobbly and not oversized, nor puny,
they are simply perfect.
There’s a slight roundness to your tummy,
a roundness that I’d kiss gods’ toes to palm,
a roundness that a long time ago
carried life within.
But you do have a waist, I can see it clearly
even though the black belt you are wearing sits low on your hips.
Your breasts are hanging,
pendulous as you walk,
nipples pointing downwards,
you were once a
breast feeding mother.

Your shoulders are rounded,
but none of anything matters for it is
your chin that controls my stare.
That slightly lifted chin with a dimple
tells me so much about you,
tells me how you have loved and lost,
and how you will love again.
It’s not often I’ll see someone walking down the street
Naked, but accessorised.


~

(Edited version)
Accessorised.

I watch as you walk down the street,
my eyes window shopping, seeing
a red dress with sequined blue flower
and my reflection inside.
My eyes don’t see that dress, they see your legs,
your long smooth legs with feet slipped precisely into
strappy white shoes.
Your knees are perfect,
not knobbly and not oversized, nor puny,
they are simply perfect.
There’s a slight roundness to your tummy,
a roundness that I’d kiss gods’ toes to palm,
a roundness that a long time ago
carried life within.
But you do have a waist, I can see it clearly
as the black belt you are wearing sits kind of low on your hips.
Your breasts are hanging, pendulous as you walk,
nipples pointing downwards,
you were once a breast feeding mother.
Your shoulders are rounded,
but none of anything matters for it is
your chin that controls my stare.
That slightly lifted chin with a dimple
tells me so much about you,
tells me how you have loved and lost,
and how you will love again.
It’s not often I’ll see someone walking down the street
Naked, but accessorised.


~

Hmm I'm finding big differences in how the words are being presented. I get a kind of 'content' feeling when the line breaks seem to work. It's still too new a feeling to trust (for some daft reason).

 

[Daisy May]

It's not just feeling, it's how you convey that feeling to the reader. I'm not debating your feelings here, and certainly not my own, I'm suggesting that the words don't convey a feeling you insist is worthy of being set in stone.

Grin, saw that, and I'll catch up here eventually - which includes that poem there

chuckle, yeah, but those are adjetives, they don't describe anything without a noun - you've got a list (and thanks, will save me from making one ) now go on and write a description [/B]

You didn't say noun
And yup, you're welcome!

 

[My Erotic Tale]

woohooo

teach me teach me...
dang I gotta get out more often...
hey HomerPindar~
okay wip it out with passion huh! <grin>
okay here goes~

~~~~~~~~`
skin in the moonlight
in my hand as well
soft hairs trail across
muscled swelled
lips of the nile
sailed me away
fingers ignited desires
in a passionate way
from the night
till the day
we sway and lay
in lovers play

 

[arienette]

I've only had one attempt at an "erotic poem" and it was my first, so don't laugh too hard here. This thread looked like it could help me a bit, so help help help!

Wish You Were Here

The postcard read
"Wish you were here in
Sunny helplessly-in-love-
Healthy-state-of-mind".

So I joined him in his rendition of Heaven and I've never felt so complete. I joined him in love-making - foggy windows drenched in precipitation of moans, sighs of relief, of orgasms filmed with I-love-you's. I joined him in life, and swore I'd never love anyone as much as I love him -- consider that a promise kept.

Puzzle pieces joined. Even a bit soggy from weathered lost loves, we're a perfect fit. The stars spell out your name, vibrantly, as if they were put in the sky to reflect the letters when I'm not with you. Your eyes smile when you look at me, and you're gorgeous even when you're dressed in blue.

Erotic finger tips on shaking hips, and I'm yearning for your sex as your finger is drenched in mine. I can't get enough of you, of your soft lips that caress over my entire body. The one-hundred-percent cotton around your waist, the mischievous smile growing inside with every touch. You're so delicate in my mouth, tongue swirling in small circles. You're so beautiful bathed in sweat, yours, mine, ours. Our smell resonates from our bodies, we breathe it in like a drug - high on hormones. Anticipation. Slight-dizziness wrapped around our minds. Almost, almost, bring me to my limit. Arched back, slight high-pitched, sweet love. Orgasms dripping from our pores.

 

[champagne1982]

Puzzle pieces joined. Even a bit soggy from weathered lost loves, we're a perfect fit. The stars spell out your name, vibrantly, as if they were put in the sky to reflect the letters when I'm not with you. Your eyes smile when you look at me, and you're gorgeous even when you're dressed in blue.

Puzzle pieces joined.
Although soggy
from weathered lost loves,
we're a perfect fit.

The stars spell your name
as if dropped on the night
to reflect the letters.

Your eyes smile when you look at me
you're gorgeous
even when you're dressed in blue.

Hello arienette,

Your words are lovely, but they stop shy of taking us anywhere. I see hints of beautiful metaphor and I'm tantalized with a suggestion of analogy. Nothing finishes.

Even when read as prose, there are too many thoughts to make this example a coherent paragraph. I think if you could sort out the selection of tasty morsels from the main body of your work and put them on their own dishes, you'd have enough material here to write several more poems.

Thankyou for being confident enough to share your work with us. I hope you don't mind my hacking this little piece of it to bits.

 

[HomerPindar]

Sorry for not being on board here as much as I'd like, and seeing as I don't want all these wonderful efforts to stop I'll be sure to be back (honest, two finals down, hand in the third tomorow and it's downhill fast from there ... at least till next semester )

In the meantime, I know I'm not the only one out there who has written an erotic poem, and lords know I'm not the best poet here, so feel free to jump in folks and lend a newbie erotic poetry writer a hand...or any other part they might want to play with

 

[wildsweetone]

Sorry for not being on board here as much as I'd like, and seeing as I don't want all these wonderful efforts to stop I'll be sure to be back (honest, two finals down, hand in the third tomorow and it's downhill fast from there ... at least till next semester )

In the meantime, I know I'm not the only one out there who has written an erotic poem, and lords know I'm not the best poet here, so feel free to jump in folks and lend a newbie erotic poetry writer a hand...or any other part they might want to play with

Good luck with the finals Homer.

 

[HomerPindar]

Good luck with the finals Homer.

Thanks, wild'

Now if only I could get my motivation to work with my free time I'd be all set

And, arienette, I think Carrie's suggestion there is as fine a place to start as any I'd make

There is no definition of "erotic" or "poetry," there is only expectations we have when we approach such material. Expect the unexpected.

Flesh moves

Distance once measured in
miles now measured in
breaths

The flesh of lips
quivering

Deep breaths colliding

lips parting
"It's..."
Distance once measured
in breaths now
too close to breath in

"...it's..."
movement of lips felt against
the exhale
"...it's...

...your turn to take out the trash."

 

[HomerPindar]

Well, Gina is currently outta commission hope that gets fixed soon, but figured I'd offer another approach to some erotic poetry and see where that might take us.

The first approach, just write something you consider erotic and work it into poetic convention as it works for you. Seems to work, so keep working at it!

Here's another approach, take a totally mundane item, now use words, images, metaphors or whatelse might work, to make this item into something erotic. The best example of this that comes to mind is from Cordelia, parking (penta)meter, a truely stunning mix of a parking meter and a study of language. (and it's erotic to boot!)

Now, please don't measure your success against Cordie, this isn't a popularity contest or who writes a better poem, it's simply an excercise that hopefully can teach us all a thing or two about writing in English. So, folks, take an item, something sitting on the desk next to you, or around the room, and make it sexy - damnit (Mind you, if you work in a sex shop, have dildo's sitting on your desk, or are otherwise surrounded by items already screaming sex appeal then take a walk in a park to find something to use. )

 

[wildsweetone]

how's this?

~
Ode to Nokia

You sit in the warm palm of my hand,
hard, knobbly, and with
energy throbbing through you.

Set on silent mode, I prefer the
vibrations as you surge to life
sending shivers up my arm.

Lighting up when in use,
you glow, especially when I hold you to my
cheek,
or my ear, and
listen as you whisper sweet nothings
while your warmth caresses my
lobe.


I think I need to practise this some more... lots more... what fun!

 

[HomerPindar]

Glad you're enjoying the adventure there, wild'.

Noted something you said earlier and meant to comment on (have to reread this thread fer sure):

Hmm I'm finding big differences in how the words are being presented. I get a kind of 'content' feeling when the line breaks seem to work. It's still too new a feeling to trust (for some daft reason).

Can't think of a reason not to trust the feeling as it stands, it's your poetry so you're the first one to get any feeling from it That said, which of these two version of "To:Accessorised." do you feel more comfortable with?

 

[wildsweetone]

The second, edited, version. It's clearer. It feels better to me.



(Edited version)
Accessorised.

I watch as you walk down the street,
my eyes window shopping, seeing
a red dress with sequined blue flower
and my reflection inside.
My eyes don’t see that dress, they see your legs,
your long smooth legs with feet slipped precisely into
strappy white shoes.
Your knees are perfect,
not knobbly and not oversized, nor puny,
they are simply perfect.
There’s a slight roundness to your tummy,
a roundness that I’d kiss gods’ toes to palm,
a roundness that a long time ago
carried life within.
But you do have a waist, I can see it clearly
as the black belt you are wearing sits kind of low on your hips.
Your breasts are hanging, pendulous as you walk,
nipples pointing downwards,
you were once a breast feeding mother.
Your shoulders are rounded,
but none of anything matters for it is
your chin that controls my stare.
That slightly lifted chin with a dimple
tells me so much about you,
tells me how you have loved and lost,
and how you will love again.
It’s not often I’ll see someone walking down the street
Naked, but accessorised.

 

[arienette]

Second time with this after much revision; much thanks to champagne and Homar. Any better yet?

Wish You Were Here

The postcard read
"Wish you were here in
Sunny, helplessly-in-love,
Healthy-state-of-mind".

So I took his hand and we ran away; could the movie script ending be in store for us?

I joined him in life, and swore I'd never love anyone as much as I love him. Consider that a promise kept. Puzzle pieces joined. Although soggy from weathered lost loves, we're a perfect fit. The stars spell out his name, as if dropped from the night to reflect the letters. His eyes smile when he looks at me, and I can be in admiration for hours, even when dressed in blue.

I joined him in love-making – foggy windows drenched in precipitation of moans, sighs of relief, of orgasms filmed with I-love-you's. Erotic finger tips on shaking hips. I yearning for your sex as his finger is drenched in me. I can't get enough of his soft lips caressing over my entire body. So delicate in my mouth; my tongue finds itself swirling in circles around him. Bathed in sweat, the smell resonates from our bodies; we breathe it in like a drug - high on pheromones. Anticipation. Slight-dizziness wraps around our minds and my back arches progressively, as orgasm drips from our pores.

 

[HomerPindar]

The second, edited, version. It's clearer. It feels better to me.

Fair enough, so does it feel finished? Then again, I've posted a number of poems here that I now have a different feeling on whether they are finished or not. You never finish editing, you just give up on it, eh?

(Edited version)
Accessorised.

I watch as you walk down the street,
my eyes window shopping, seeing
a red dress with sequined blue flower
and my reflection inside.
My eyes don’t see that dress, they see your legs,

to nitpick, cause I'm good at that , if ya don't see the dress, why did you just spend a line describing it? Perhaps there's a way of visually superimposing the legs and dress in a single image in the glass? Or is it more important that they are kept seperate?

your long smooth legs with feet slipped precisely into
strappy white shoes.
Your knees are perfect,
not knobbly and not oversized, nor puny,
they are simply perfect.
There’s a slight roundness to your tummy,
a roundness that I’d kiss gods’ toes to palm,

I keep getting hung up on that line, I think there's something in the way "gods' toes to palm," is meant to be said that I'm not quite getting right, some sort of colloquialism I'm unfamiliar with perhaps?

a roundness that a long time ago
carried life within.
But you do have a waist, I can see it clearly
as the black belt you are wearing sits kind of low on your hips.
Your breasts are hanging, pendulous as you walk,
nipples pointing downwards,
you were once a breast feeding mother.
Your shoulders are rounded,
but none of anything matters for it is
your chin that controls my stare.
That slightly lifted chin with a dimple
tells me so much about you,
tells me how you have loved and lost,
and how you will love again.
It’s not often I’ll see someone walking down the street
Naked, but accessorised. [/B]

Of course, as I've already suggested, editing can go on for ever. Some folks feel better hammering at a poem for days till it's just right, while some folks prefer to set aside a poem for a bit and come back to it. Which ever works for you, until you're satisfied that it's done. And note, that you as in the author, you don't need to write till the reader is satisfied (cause I'm a really picky bugger so ya might be working at it for a real long time just for me )

So, by all means, if you have other pieces you want to work out here, I'd be happy to offer my suggestions and input.

 

[HomerPindar]

Second time with this after much revision; much thanks to champagne and Homar. Any better yet?

oh oh, I didn't even get to the poem and I just have to say, "better" is a dangerous word to use, and I caution you to think that poetry gets "better," it suggests a measuring stick that we all can pick out of a drawer and apply to poetry evenly. All I can offer here stands as opinion and suggestion, in the hopes that you build up confidence and education (about both writing and yourself). (see, I just warned wild' about how picky I could be )

Wish You Were Here

The postcard read
"Wish you were here in
Sunny, helplessly-in-love,
Healthy-state-of-mind".

So I took his hand and we ran away; could the movie script ending be in store for us?

I joined him in life, and swore I'd never love anyone as much as I love him. Consider that a promise kept. Puzzle pieces joined. Although soggy from weathered lost loves, we're a perfect fit. The stars spell out his name, as if dropped from the night to reflect the letters. His eyes smile when he looks at me, and I can be in admiration for hours, even when dressed in blue.

I joined him in love-making – foggy windows drenched in precipitation of moans, sighs of relief, of orgasms filmed with I-love-you's. Erotic finger tips on shaking hips. I yearning for your sex as his finger is drenched in me. I can't get enough of his soft lips caressing over my entire body. So delicate in my mouth; my tongue finds itself swirling in circles around him. Bathed in sweat, the smell resonates from our bodies; we breathe it in like a drug - high on pheromones. Anticipation. Slight-dizziness wraps around our minds and my back arches progressively, as orgasm drips from our pores.

Here's a challenge, and yeah, it's a toughie - the two paragraphs are related in their subject matter, your lover and time with him, but they are not related in their use of language. The first is romantic, the later steamy erotica - and the images and use of language is equally in contrast.

Consider the use of jigsaw puzzle pieces fitting together that is used in the first paragraph, can that image/use of language there, be in some way repeated in the second paragraph? Can the use of Anticipation in the second paragraph be highlighted in the first as well?

(warned ya it was a toughie )

 

[champagne1982]

Passion flows through my heart,
pumped to every cell,
with every throbbing pulse.

The rush of my blood
carries the sustenance
of his affection to far-flung bits of me.

My finger tips feel
the slaking of their thirst
brushing along his hard length.

My toes, starving as they wait
for the banquet of his desire,
curl as his attention feeds them.

My lips, gasping for air,
blush with the red flush
of his breath as he kisses me.

Truly, to dine with passion
is all my heart needs
to be sated.

 

[HomerPindar]

Passion flows through my heart,
pumped to every cell,
with every throbbing pulse.

The rush of my blood
carries the sustenance
of his affection to far-flung bits of me.

Had the image of your body all chopped up with blood still flowing

My finger tips feel
the slaking of their thirst
brushing along his hard length.

My toes, starving as they wait
for the banquet of his desire,
curl as his attention feeds them.

My lips, gasping for air,
blush with the red flush
of his breath as he kisses me.

Truly, to dine with passion
is all my heart needs
to be sated. [/B]