- Erotic Poetry
- Black Coffee: reminiscence
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Like drinking black coffee,
in an Italian cafe,
you tasted so sweet on my tongue,
going down my throat.
When I thirsted for your essence
you filled me without hesitation.
Walking through an archive
filled with faded dreams,
your voice blurred words before me
with the thought of you inside me.
I reached out to touch your strength-
you led the way, I followed.
Like walking in cool rain
through a lakeside village,
you left me damp and trembling,
then rekindled my fever.
When I shivered beneath your touch
you filled me with your warmth.
As thunder rattled windows
in this unfamilar world,
you thrust your way into my soul,
constant and unwavering.
When we thought the storm had passed
still it came, rumbling in the distance.
Again, my world is grey,
here, sitting at my desk.
I still feel you flow within me,
beneath aching fingertips.
When the emptiness grows too intense,
I’ll sip black coffee: reminiscence.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousalmost 19 years agoWhere can you possibly find the time to craft such beautiful work? I am put to shame.
James
Jenna Greyover 19 years agoAuthorSappho, Thank you again for your comments on my work. I wasn't sure about sharing these recent poems with the public, but I'm glad I did now. The enjoyment I know my readers get from my work makes publishing them almost as enjoyable as researching and creating them. But not quite... ;)
Sappholoversalmost 20 years agoThis poem is subtly, deeply erotic...and passionate: You unfold this memory beautifully through your sequence of similes, and the poem had several highpoints for me, including the way you let nature speak for the passion and ecstasy between the couple (the rumblings of the storm) and, of course, the bonding through sound of "intense" and "reminiscence" to conclude the poem--a perfect way to let sound and sense intertwine together. The smell of the coffee gives a wonderful echo from Proust to this remembrace of things past.
Jenna Greyalmost 20 years agoAuthorKindman,
Thank you for keeping up with my writing. I've not had time to complete a few stories I've started, but poetry is a bit different. I can't seem to function until the poem is taken from my head and made whole in print. Then this whole need to share thing comes into play.
Hope you're having a great summer.
Take care,
JG
