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Modern Romanticism

The aspect of romance, divided between the heartening and the thoughtful.

“A Wild, Wanting One” – Erotic Poem/Long Poem

May 23, 2019
romanticindeed

How many marks were branded,
As oaths to a singular curse?
I was the livid, the toiling, and the strained.
Worked by day, and puled by night.
Diseased, shameful, and miserable.

You, as the woman, to my heart,
A heart shattered by time,
Stilled in time,
And motioned only by a heavy bosom,
One that is yours, made for sinking.

How lovely are thy breasts!
White as sourdough, and gleam in the sun!
Your feet are for caressing, and thy lips
Are there for the sweetest kiss.
A mockery of my mind, for my heart has leaped.

How marvelous are thy cheeks!
Swollen with the redness of tomatoes,
And also made for kisses,
To be placed on such soft flesh.
You ready yourself to speak to me of heaven.

As I dine on your body,
Twisted in limbs of ivory,
You say to me, “Why has thou forgotten
Of the wishes made before an altar,
For divinity?”

I looked up to see the rays of gold,
And bowed with neck entranced,
To see the Almighty, in how He flew so radiant,
From my side,
To where my fears crossed.

They crossed in the shallow earth,
Where I fell to savor a drop,
One solid and tapered finger, pointed by Christ,
To where I’d forgotten to bask,
Due to that my love was merely limbs to my appetite.

I say with heavy mind and distorted heart,
That, “I knew not what Christ envisioned,
When he sought solitude upon the cross.
Was is because of my loss?
Was it due to my own cross?”

She fell with a reddened neck,
To the soil of a country-land,
So much I took in a fragrance,
A breed of death,
That of her womanhood.

A failure to upkeep duty,
A misery when singing psalms and hymns,
A funeral for a departure,
That of a woman and her tide,
A wild, wanting one.

A beauty, and a savior,
I laid a corpse to be drawn
Over with sheets inlaid with embroidered stone,
Stone, rock, and debris.
A wild, wanting one.

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