Welcome to More Erotic Poems #2

Were you to ask what age of womanhood
Brings most delight, producing most of good,
I should, to quote a phrase much used in rhyme,
"Turn back the leaflets in the Book of Time,"
To find the page, whereon, in letters bright,
Is written clear, my first ecstatic night.
 

I was a boy attuned to passion's strain,
I knew its music and I knew its pain,
I longed for--something--but, I was a boy;
I knew not how to change my pain to joy.
But Heaven has given to earth, in its dire needs,
No sweeter thing than widows, in their weeds,
 

And in the household, where I ruled supreme,
A widow lived, a sorrowing, throbbing dream.
I was her comfort. Many times, at night,
When I, awakened by some childish fright,
Cried out to her, she took me to her side,
And kissed me till my fears were pacified.
 

She was my confidant. My childish fears,
My hopes and dreams and all my boyish tears
Found comfort sweet upon that loving breast
Where all perplexities were set to rest.
One night, worn out with tossing to and fro,
In longings vain which boyhood's night must know,
 

I dared to make pretence of sudden fright,
That I might see that figure, clad in white,
Come stealing to my side to whisper low:
"What makes my precious darling tremble so?"
All ye who cannot sympathize, stop here.
I speak in tenderness and hold most dear
 

The memory of that sweet transition hour,
When Nature first revealed her wondrous power.
My heart still throbs as I remember when
I joined the ranks of sturdy little men.
I know not now, what courage made me dare,
But, pillowed close, upon her bosom fair,
 

A truant hand went wandering far astray
And found--that night hath greater charms than day.
As mighty Mars, full statured, in an hour,
From great Athena's helmet, in his power,
Sprang forth full armoured, at the will of Jove,
So I sprang forth, equipped and armed for love.
 

With new-found strength, I ceased to be afraid
And something wild within would not be stayed.
Disarmed, perhaps, by hungry widowhood,
She could not check me, even if she would
And kisses wild were riotously pressed
On starving lips too long left uncaressed,
 

And roses red, upon the white flesh burned,
The while she murmured: "Child! where have you learned?"
I knew my madness, but my heart was fire
And all was swept away in my desire.
Her very gown of daintiest, filmiest lace,
Seemed cumbersome to me and out of place;
 

I reached and tore it, throat to hem, to find--
How cruel Fate has been to those born blind.
For even the moonbeams, stealing through the bars,
Turned back to whisper to the twinkling stars,
And tip-toed out again to realms of space,
But left the memory of her blushing face.
 

And when, at last, her beating heart stood still,
As though no more subservient to her will,
And when with fluttering breath, she closed her eyes,
I seemed to lose her, in a mist of sighs.
My senses swam as though a bursting star
Had set on fire the cloudland realms afar,
 

For one brief moment, I was lost in fear
That all I held so passionately dear
Might chide me as she never had before,
And hold me in her clinging arms no more.
I was a boy--unversed in Nature's needs,
Unlearned of a widow's ways, without their weeds.
 

She was not wanton. Nay! she was a woman,
Whose wakened, passionate heart was truly human.
And just when love was bursting into flower,
The fates, relentless, sent her saddest hour,
And, torn apart, from all she held most dear,
Time's healing touch had dried the falling tear.
 

She loved me. I could feel her bosom stir
And strove to soothe my turbulent thoughts of her.
But boon companions who have loved for long,
Draw wavering lines betwixt the right and wrong.
And who shall say that love, new-born like this,
Must never know the madness of a kiss!
 

And who shall say it was her duty clear
To let me find a different atmosphere
In which to learn the mysteries of the world,
Where unclad sin, in wicked eddies whirled!
I must not whisper, in a careless way,
The thoughts that came to me at dawn of day.
 

And yet--when asked what age of womanhood
Brings most delight, producing most of good,
I turn to widowhood with tender touch,
And say: "Stop here, for widows know so much."
Boyhood - Anonymous
 

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
 

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
 

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
 

I stripped me to the skin,
And boldly stepped unto her,
Thinking her love to win,
I thus began to woo her:
Sweetheart, be not so coy,
Time's sweet in pleasures spent,
She frowned, and cried, away.
Yet smiling, gave consent.
 

Then blushing, down she slid,
Seeming to be amazed,
But heaving up her head,
Again she on me gazed;
I seeing that, lay down,
And boldly 'gan to kiss,
And she did smile, and frown,
And so fell to our bliss.
 

Then lay she on the ground
As though she had been sped,
As women in a swoon,
Yield up, and yet not dead:
So did this lively maid,
When hot blood fill'd her vain,
And coming to herself she said,
I thank you for your pain.
The Maid A Bathing - Anonymous
 

In the early dawn of happiness
you gave me three kisses
so that I would wake up
to this moment of love
I tried to remember in my heart
what I'd dreamt about
during the night
before I became aware
of this moving
of life
I found my dreams
but the moon took me away
It lifted me up to the firmament
and suspended me there
I saw how my heart had fallen
on your path
singing a song
Between my love and my heart
things were happening which
slowly slowly
made me recall everything
You amuse me with your touch
although I can't see your hands.
You have kissed me with tenderness
although I haven't seen your lips
You are hidden from me.
But it is you who keeps me alive
Perhaps the time will come
when you will tire of kisses
I shall be happy
even for insults from you
I only ask that you
keep some attention on me.
The Awakening - The Love Poems of Rumi - Edited by Deepak Chopra
 

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