Category Archives: Erotic

lo que me conecte a ti

16 Friday Nov 2012

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry

≈ Comments Off on lo que me conecte a ti

Tags

, , , ,

lo que me conecte a ti

lo que me conecte a ti

Against my pale
shoulder your dark
hand rests.
Against your dark
breast my pale
fingers pull
and tease.

I pray
to Ramses
and Taurus,
the bull.
You sing
songs about love
juice and other
squeezables
“work, boy,
put your tongue
into it.”

Now you
are above
me, lowering
yourself down
onto that simple
swollen link
that connects
me to you,
down until our
pubes touch,
down until our
bones rub
together.

Freud said men
fear the moment
of entry,
the disappearance
of the self
into the other,
the annihilation
of the ego.

Please, Freud
never got fucked
like this.

swampland floods

15 Thursday Nov 2012

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry

≈ Comments Off on swampland floods

Tags

, , ,

I can draw out the rainy
season that sleeps
inside you.
I know ju ju.
When I found you,
you were dry earth
cracked, you were
rising August dust.
Not all soil is fertile.
Not all soft flesh panics.
The rain does not care
if it evaporates
or sinks deep inside you,
it just keeps on falling.
But I am not the rain.
I want you wet.
I want you soaked.
Like an old-time prophet
I’m going to run wild
in your wild bush.
I’m going to speak
in tongues until
your swampland floods.

consume me

14 Wednesday Nov 2012

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry

≈ Comments Off on consume me

Tags

,

contemplation

contemplation

I am
not yours,
though you are
still living
inside me.
Hiding.
Like grief.
There is no
healing
from grief.
It’s not
a gunshot wound,
leaving behind
tell-tale scars.
It’s not
a cancer,
though I have
been carrying you
around long enough.
No doctor
can cut it
out of me.
No knife
can find it,
though one day
you will consume
me. You are
consuming me.
Because
like all good cancers
you simply confirm
what is worst
in me and
how poor
I am
in making
choices.

un santo italiano hueso del muslo

24 Monday Sep 2012

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

≈ Comments Off on un santo italiano hueso del muslo

Tags

, , , , ,

Yo soy

un objeto

vulgar que desea

consumir

a cualquier precio.

Un santo italiano

hueso del muslo.

Yo soy lleno

de cosas nuevas,

pero no para usted.

Hay estrellas

en mi boca .

(I am a vulgar object you want to consume at any cost. An Italian saint’s thighbone. I am full of new things, but not for you. There are stars in my mouth)

barcos en el mar

19 Wednesday Sep 2012

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

≈ Comments Off on barcos en el mar

Tags

, , , , , ,

 

Que todos tenemos

nuestros barcos en el mar.

Nosotros les enviamos

a través de las profundidades.

Como el deseo.

Algunos han cruzado la marea.

Algunos son desmanteladas.

Otros están perdidos

en una noche sin estrellas.

Érase una vez, usted navegó

a tierras extranjeras.

Yo odio tu indiferencia.

No hay cartas que ha enviado

desde cualquier puerto.

¿Cree que es inteligente?

Soy una bruja que puede

superar el viento.

 

(We all have our ships at sea. We send them across the depths. Like desire. Some have crossed the tide. Some are dismantled. Others are lost in a starless night. Once upon a time you sailed to foreign lands. I hate your indifference. No letters sent from any port. Do you think that’s clever? I’m a witch who can overcome the wind.)

esta muertos marea baja

18 Tuesday Sep 2012

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

≈ Comments Off on esta muertos marea baja

Tags

, , , , ,

Esta muertos

marea baja.

Yo he sido vagando

esta costa para siempre.

El grito de las aves

vivas en las dunas.

Un resplandor silenciado.

La playa. La madera

de deriva. La lechuga

de mar reseco.

Este dolor es amplia

y solitaria. Y yo

también lo soy.

 

(This dead low tide. I’ve been wandering this coast forever. The cry of the birds living in the dunes. A muted glow. The beach. The driftwood. The withered sea lettuce. This pain is broad and solitary. And I am too.)

kelp y soledad

18 Tuesday Sep 2012

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

≈ Comments Off on kelp y soledad

Tags

, , , , , ,

para Virginia Woolf, 1882 – 1941

 

Virginia, estás ahí,

en algún lugar.

Un barco en la noche.

Usted se ahogó.

El suspiro de una fantasma.

Perdido en las dunas.

Usted pone piedras

en tu bolsillo.

Una sombra se hundió

en la noche

gris; a continuación,

los residuos.

La tierra baldía de aguas.

El besos suave de las olas contra

un cuerpo gris; una criatura

de kelp y soledad.

 

(Virginia, you’re there, somewhere. A ship in the night. You drowned. The breath of a ghost. Lost in the dunes. You put stones in your pocket. A shadow sank in the gray night, then waste. The water wasteland. The soft kisses of the waves against a gray body, a creature of kelp and loneliness.)