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10 Sexual Poetry You'd Want To Read

10 sexual poetry that you would want to get you in your sexual mood. Sexual poetry carefully selected and written by prestigious erotic poets



Sexual Poetry At A Glance

Sexual Poetry



Poetry is originally known for its subjectiveness and universality, having the ability to address any topic without losing its enthralling captivating trait. 


Sex, being one of the most societal topics with numerous variant views has also being a major interest to poet, even antiques poet. The art of seduction requires not only the ability to get your mate down in the mood but also giving them a clear air filled with romantic vibes, gestures and unhindered flow of intimacy worthy of being remembered. You can't but agree that there's lot of untapped magic inherent in well-planned out foreplays before sex.


You still think this is a bad idea? Well, consider sexual poetry to be sexy, a sweet—refined, no cheesy phrases that have the rare ability to stimulate not only the body of your mate but also their minds. 

You still think this is a bad, ugly idea? Wait until you read  “Love Sonnet XI” by Pablo Neruda and  “The Encounter” by Louise Glück.


Let's unveil the room of sexual poetry for you to feed your eyes and mind on. 


10 Sexual Poetry



1.  “The Encounter” by Louise Glück

You came to the side of the bed
and sat staring at me.
Then you kissed me — I felt
hot wax on my forehead.
I wanted it to leave a mark:
that’s how I knew I loved you.
Because I wanted to be burned, stamped,
to have something in the end-
I drew the gown over my head;
a red flush covered my face and shoulders.
It will run its course, the course of fire,
setting a cold coin on the forehead, between the eyes.
You lay beside me; your hand moved over my face
as though you had felt it also-
you must have known, then, how I wanted you.
We will always know that, you and I.
The proof will be my body.




2. "Inside" by A. A.

I wrote poems inside of her with my fingers. 
Our story began with her scream. 
And ended with her soul on my lips.




3. "Wild Nights" by Emily Dickinson

Wild nights - Wild nights! Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury! 
Futile
 the winds -
 to a Heart in port 
-Done with the Compass 
-Done with the Chart! 
Rowing in Eden 
- Ah - the Sea!
 Might I but moor - tonight - In thee!



4. "Untitled" by Mason Fowler

 She was heaven and she was hell. 
And when she was finished, 
he would lay in bed, breathless, 
waiting to get the feeling back in his legs.



5. “xvii” by E.E. Cummings
Lady, i will touch you with my mind.
Touch you and touch and touch
until you give
me suddenly a smile, shyly obscene

(lady i will
touch you with my mind.)Touch
you,that is all,

lightly and you utterly will become
with infinite care

the poem which i do not write.



6.“The Encounter,” Louise Glück

Because I wanted to be burned, stamped,
 to have something in the end — I drew the gown over my head; 
a red flush covered my face and shoulders.
 It will run its course,
 the course of fire, 
setting a cold coin on the forehead, between the eyes.


7. “Sex Has a Way” by Wendy Lee


Sex has a way of softening limbs,
oiling joints and melding hearts.

We burrow in closer
wrapping arms and legs over and under each other.

Earthy blanket of sleep covers us
two bodies releasing one breath.

Finding home,
coiled and tucked in each other’s sweat.


8. "The Platonic Blow" by Wystan Hugh Auden

 We aligned mouths. 
We entwined.
 All act was clutch, 
All fact contact,
All the attack and the interlock Of tongues, 
the charms of arms.
 I shook at the touch Of his fresh flesh,
 I rocked at the shock of his cock.
 Straddling my legs a little I inserted his divine Person between and closed on it tight as I could.
 The upright warmth of his belly lay all along mine. 
Nude, glued together for a minute, we stood. 


9. “Prayer in Hell’s Kitchen” by Alex Dimitrov

 Wilde ones,
 let us forgive the bitter pill delivered with each finger shoved down. 
Forgive tasting Judas. 
Forgive nothing.
 Here is the bed, 
dark like a true beginning.
 We all enter the body alone and only once. 
We do not get to stay.


10. “Basket Of Figs” by Ellen Bass

Bring me your pain, love. Spread
it out like fine rugs, silk sashes,
warm eggs, cinnamon
and cloves in burlap sacks. Show me

the detail, the intricate embroidery
on the collar, tiny shell buttons,
the hemstitched the way you were taught,
pricking just a thread, almost invisible.

Unclasp it like jewels, the gold
still hot from your body. Empty
your basket of figs. Spill your wine.

That hard nugget of pain, I would suck it,
cradling it on my tongue like the slick
seed of pomegranate. I would lift it

tenderly, as a great animal might
carry a small one in the private
cave of the mouth.




BONUS:  11.  “To His Coy Mistress” by Andrew Marvell

Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long-preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust;
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

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Pawners Paper: 10 Sexual Poetry You'd Want To Read
10 Sexual Poetry You'd Want To Read
10 sexual poetry that you would want to get you in your sexual mood. Sexual poetry carefully selected and written by prestigious erotic poets
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