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Erotic Poems
E. E. Cummings’s erotic poems and drawings gathered in a single volume. Many years ago the prodigious and famously prolific E. E. Cummings sat in his study writing and thinking about sex. His private brooding gave way to poems and drawings of sexual and romantic love that delight and provoke. Here, collected for this first time in a single volume, are those erotic poems and sketches, culled from Cummings’s original manuscripts by the distinguished editor George James Firmage.
from “16”
may i feel said he
(i’ll squeal said she
just once said he)
it’s fun said she
(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she 12 drawings
from “16”
may i feel said he
(i’ll squeal said she
just once said he)
it’s fun said she
(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she 12 drawings
72 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2010
About the author
E.E. Cummings
293 books3,907 followersEdward Estlin Cummings was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on October 14, 1894. He began writing poems as early as 1904 and studied Latin and Greek at the Cambridge Latin High School.
He received his BA in 1915 and his MA in 1916, both from Harvard University. His studies there introduced him to the poetry of avant-garde writers, such as Gertrude Stein and Ezra Pound.
In 1917, Cummings published an early selection of poems in the anthology Eight Harvard Poets. The same year, Cummings left the United States for France as a volunteer ambulance driver in World War I. Five months after his assignment, however, he and a friend were interned in a prison camp by the French authorities on suspicion of espionage (an experience recounted in his novel, The Enormous Room) for his outspoken anti-war convictions.
After the war, he settled into a life divided between houses in rural Connecticut and Greenwich Village, with frequent visits to Paris. He also traveled throughout Europe, meeting poets and artists, including Pablo Picasso, whose work he particularly admired.
In 1920, The Dial published seven poems by Cummings, including "Buffalo Bill ’s.” Serving as Cummings’ debut to a wider American audience, these “experiments” foreshadowed the synthetic cubist strategy Cummings would explore in the next few years.
In his work, Cummings experimented radically with form, punctuation, spelling, and syntax, abandoning traditional techniques and structures to create a new, highly idiosyncratic means of poetic expression. Later in his career, he was often criticized for settling into his signature style and not pressing his work toward further evolution. Nevertheless, he attained great popularity, especially among young readers, for the simplicity of his language, his playful mode and his attention to subjects such as war and sex.
The poet and critic Randall Jarrell once noted that Cummings is “one of the most individual poets who ever lived—and, though it sometimes seems so, it is not just his vices and exaggerations, the defects of his qualities, that make a writer popular. But, primarily, Mr. Cummings’s poems are loved because they are full of sentimentally, of sex, of more or less improper jokes, of elementary lyric insistence.”
During his lifetime, Cummings received a number of honors, including an Academy of American Poets Fellowship, two Guggenheim Fellowships, the Charles Eliot Norton Professorship at Harvard, the Bollingen Prize in Poetry in 1958, and a Ford Foundation grant.
At the time of his death, September 3, 1962, he was the second most widely read poet in the United States, after Robert Frost. He is buried in Forest Hills Cemetery in Boston, Massachusetts.
source: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/e-...
He received his BA in 1915 and his MA in 1916, both from Harvard University. His studies there introduced him to the poetry of avant-garde writers, such as Gertrude Stein and Ezra Pound.
In 1917, Cummings published an early selection of poems in the anthology Eight Harvard Poets. The same year, Cummings left the United States for France as a volunteer ambulance driver in World War I. Five months after his assignment, however, he and a friend were interned in a prison camp by the French authorities on suspicion of espionage (an experience recounted in his novel, The Enormous Room) for his outspoken anti-war convictions.
After the war, he settled into a life divided between houses in rural Connecticut and Greenwich Village, with frequent visits to Paris. He also traveled throughout Europe, meeting poets and artists, including Pablo Picasso, whose work he particularly admired.
In 1920, The Dial published seven poems by Cummings, including "Buffalo Bill ’s.” Serving as Cummings’ debut to a wider American audience, these “experiments” foreshadowed the synthetic cubist strategy Cummings would explore in the next few years.
In his work, Cummings experimented radically with form, punctuation, spelling, and syntax, abandoning traditional techniques and structures to create a new, highly idiosyncratic means of poetic expression. Later in his career, he was often criticized for settling into his signature style and not pressing his work toward further evolution. Nevertheless, he attained great popularity, especially among young readers, for the simplicity of his language, his playful mode and his attention to subjects such as war and sex.
The poet and critic Randall Jarrell once noted that Cummings is “one of the most individual poets who ever lived—and, though it sometimes seems so, it is not just his vices and exaggerations, the defects of his qualities, that make a writer popular. But, primarily, Mr. Cummings’s poems are loved because they are full of sentimentally, of sex, of more or less improper jokes, of elementary lyric insistence.”
During his lifetime, Cummings received a number of honors, including an Academy of American Poets Fellowship, two Guggenheim Fellowships, the Charles Eliot Norton Professorship at Harvard, the Bollingen Prize in Poetry in 1958, and a Ford Foundation grant.
At the time of his death, September 3, 1962, he was the second most widely read poet in the United States, after Robert Frost. He is buried in Forest Hills Cemetery in Boston, Massachusetts.
source: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/e-...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 173 reviews
October 3, 2016
This collection will be appreciated and loved by anyone who enjoys the poetry of e.e. cummings. I have long adored his poetry and have been stirred by his gorgeous musings, and these love poems are no exception. This collection also includes lovely sketches by the poet himself.
Just this:
or if sometime she nakedly invite
him all her nakedness deeply to win
her flesh is like all the cellos of night
against the morning's single violin
or this:
may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she
(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she
there's more:
you said Is
there anything which
is dead or alive more beautiful
than my body, to have in your fingers
(trembling ever so little)?
Looking into
your eyes Nothing, i said,
except the
air of spring smelling of never
and forever.
...and through the lattice
which moved as
if a hand is touched by a
hand(which
moved as though
fingers touch a girl's
breast,
lightly)
Do you believe in always,
the wind
said to the rain
I am too busy with
my flowers to believe, the
rain answered
Just this:
or if sometime she nakedly invite
him all her nakedness deeply to win
her flesh is like all the cellos of night
against the morning's single violin
or this:
may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she
(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she
there's more:
you said Is
there anything which
is dead or alive more beautiful
than my body, to have in your fingers
(trembling ever so little)?
Looking into
your eyes Nothing, i said,
except the
air of spring smelling of never
and forever.
...and through the lattice
which moved as
if a hand is touched by a
hand(which
moved as though
fingers touch a girl's
breast,
lightly)
Do you believe in always,
the wind
said to the rain
I am too busy with
my flowers to believe, the
rain answered
May 4, 2023
Α, ιδού το αρσενικό τής Τζόυς Μανσούρ. Σουρεαλιστικά βογγητά ξεπετάγονται από τις σελίδες, με μορφή άτακτων γραμμάτων. Δε θα'χουν συμμαζεμό μέσα στη βιβλιοθήκη. Let it be.
February 4, 2012
No-one makes you feel quite as good about being a woman as E.E. Cummings. But I'm not sure that isolating out his 'erotic' poems from his others adds to their enjoyment.
This collection brings together about 50 poems - including my favourite poem-with-less-than-20-characters:
And
And
The hilariously sly poem, where the teller "takes a car out for the first time", which begins
And one of my top-whatever Cummings:
While Cumming might write that
no-one describes the female body like he does; "cleancornered strokable", "wistful dollish hands", "alert treelike", breasts "firmlysquirmy with a slight jounce", the "singular deepest flower which which she / carries in a gesture of her hips". Admittedly, it sometimes goes awry:
but by and large he hits an entrancing balance between worshipful and earthy.
However, I'm not sure your enjoyment of Cummings' poems is enhanced by separating out the 'erotic' from the other poems. The same glee and energy (there's a distinctive rushing pace to Cummings' work inside my head, a race towards a breathless and triumphant climax) and wide-eyed wonder is applied throughout his work, and it's actually more fun to bounce from sex to a mudlicious, puddle-wonderful Spring day than just flick through sex, sex, sex. And one more niggle - the poem are undated, which I found frustrating, as I'm interested in how poets change over time.
This collection brings together about 50 poems - including my favourite poem-with-less-than-20-characters:
n w
O
h
S
LoW
h
myGODy
ess
And
between the breasts
of bestial
Marj lie large
men who praise
Marj's cleancornered strokable
body these men's
fingers toss trunks
shuffle sacks spin kegs they
curl
loving
around
beers
the world has
these men's hands but their
bodies big and boozing
belong to
Marj
the greenslim purse of whose
face opens
on a fatgold
grin
hooray
hoorah for the large
men who lie
between the breasts
of bestial Marj
for the strong men
who
sleep between the legs of Lil
And
my girl’s tall with hard long eyes
as she stands, with her long hard hands keeping
silence on her dress, good for sleeping
is her long hard body filled with surprise
like a white shocking wire, when she smiles
a hard long smile it sometimes makes
gaily go clean through me tickling aches,
and the weak noise of her eyes easily files
my impatience to an edge–my girl’s tall
and taut, with thin legs just like a vine
that’s spent all of its life on a garden-wall,
and is going to die. When we grimly go to bed
with these legs she begins to heave and twine
about me, and to kiss my face and head.
The hilariously sly poem, where the teller "takes a car out for the first time", which begins
she being Brand
-new;and you
know consequently a
little stiff i was
careful of her and(having
thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.
K.)
And one of my top-whatever Cummings:
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh ... And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new
While Cumming might write that
my naked lady framed
in twilight is an accident
whose niceness betters easily the intent
of genius—
painting wholly feels ashamed
before this music,and poetry cannot
go near because perfectly fearful.
no-one describes the female body like he does; "cleancornered strokable", "wistful dollish hands", "alert treelike", breasts "firmlysquirmy with a slight jounce", the "singular deepest flower which which she / carries in a gesture of her hips". Admittedly, it sometimes goes awry:
i bite on the eye's brittle crust
(only feeling the belly's merry thrust
Boost my huge passion like a business
And the Y of her legs panting as they press
proffers its omelet of fluffy lust)
but by and large he hits an entrancing balance between worshipful and earthy.
However, I'm not sure your enjoyment of Cummings' poems is enhanced by separating out the 'erotic' from the other poems. The same glee and energy (there's a distinctive rushing pace to Cummings' work inside my head, a race towards a breathless and triumphant climax) and wide-eyed wonder is applied throughout his work, and it's actually more fun to bounce from sex to a mudlicious, puddle-wonderful Spring day than just flick through sex, sex, sex. And one more niggle - the poem are undated, which I found frustrating, as I'm interested in how poets change over time.
February 15, 2023
wild(at our first)beasts uttered human words
—our second coming made stones sing like birds—
but o the starhushed silence which our third’s
Erotic. Experimental. Maddening. Playful. Incomprehensible. These are a few words describing these poems. Rarely actually prurient, occasionally titillating, and sometimes lewd, these poems are all masterful. Cummings’s erotic line drawings complement the text.
A few poems are more experimental than erotic, or have lost their eroticism by the time you’ve worked out what Cummings was saying. Others are enhanced by his experimental style — his language, form, and punctuation creating memorable moments. Some are straightforward, less experimental, and in these his phrases soar, vividly enchanting:
her flesh is like all the ‘cellos of night
against the morning’s single violin
Cummings excelled when being mischievous, playful, or cheeky, as here, in a poem both playful and irreverent:
devil crept in eden wood
(grope me wonderful grope me good)
and he saw two humans roaming
—hear that tree agroaning
woman chewed and man he chewed
(open beautiful open good)
and their eyes were wet and shining
—feel that snake acliming
lord he called and angel stood
(poke me darling o poke me good)
with a big thick sword all flaming
—o my god i’m coming
Cummings explored many different moods — playful, crude, intimate. Or as here where even grim mortality is cast through the lens of erotic life:
When thou art dead,dead,and far from the splendid sin
And the fleshless soul whines at the steep of the last abyss
To leave forever its heart acold in an earthy bed,
When, forth of the body which loved my body,the soul-within
Comes,naked from the pitiless metamorphosis,
What shall it say to mine, when we are dead,dead?
(When I am dead,dead, and they have laid thee in,
The body my lips so loved given to worms to kiss,
And the cool smooth throat, and bright hair of the head—).
Cummings’s erotic poems is a throbbing, literary missile aimed to penetrate and titillate the sanctuary of your mind...
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 ease
the poem which i do not write.
—our second coming made stones sing like birds—
but o the starhushed silence which our third’s
Erotic. Experimental. Maddening. Playful. Incomprehensible. These are a few words describing these poems. Rarely actually prurient, occasionally titillating, and sometimes lewd, these poems are all masterful. Cummings’s erotic line drawings complement the text.
A few poems are more experimental than erotic, or have lost their eroticism by the time you’ve worked out what Cummings was saying. Others are enhanced by his experimental style — his language, form, and punctuation creating memorable moments. Some are straightforward, less experimental, and in these his phrases soar, vividly enchanting:
her flesh is like all the ‘cellos of night
against the morning’s single violin
Cummings excelled when being mischievous, playful, or cheeky, as here, in a poem both playful and irreverent:
devil crept in eden wood
(grope me wonderful grope me good)
and he saw two humans roaming
—hear that tree agroaning
woman chewed and man he chewed
(open beautiful open good)
and their eyes were wet and shining
—feel that snake acliming
lord he called and angel stood
(poke me darling o poke me good)
with a big thick sword all flaming
—o my god i’m coming
Cummings explored many different moods — playful, crude, intimate. Or as here where even grim mortality is cast through the lens of erotic life:
When thou art dead,dead,and far from the splendid sin
And the fleshless soul whines at the steep of the last abyss
To leave forever its heart acold in an earthy bed,
When, forth of the body which loved my body,the soul-within
Comes,naked from the pitiless metamorphosis,
What shall it say to mine, when we are dead,dead?
(When I am dead,dead, and they have laid thee in,
The body my lips so loved given to worms to kiss,
And the cool smooth throat, and bright hair of the head—).
Cummings’s erotic poems is a throbbing, literary missile aimed to penetrate and titillate the sanctuary of your mind...
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 ease
the poem which i do not write.
September 27, 2024
i don't recall the poems very well, several years down the road, but his dirty drawings in the margin remain fixed in memory. i suppose that means i have a pornographic sensibility rather than a contemplative one.
January 22, 2013
A gift from my guy--what could be better! I love these poems, but had never seen them collected together before--each classic cummings volume usually contains a handful. Love how the man is bluntly explicit and yet soars, and tickles, and whispers, he sings his appreciation of a whore or an exquisite tender passion for a wife, each in her own specific way, celebrating her and her-and-him honestly. A less romantic collection than Neruda's 20 Love Songs and a Song of Despair-- the nature of the relationships are depicted bluntly, without fancying them up, and yet the joy is unmistakeable. Such succulent delight, it at times reminds me of a kind of distilled Henry Miller, and yet Miller wasn't very good at distinguishing between his women and the kinds of sex they had, the kinds of relationships in which the sex is embedded. cummings was a very-tuned in guy. This would make a fabulous anniversary present for a fellow to give the lady in his life.
March 4, 2020
Nu spun că stilul lui Cummings este groaznic pentru că nu mă pricep deloc la poezie, însă știu cum vreau să mă facă să mă simt, iar poemele lui nu au reușit asta. Pentru mine poezia ar trebuie să fie ceva care să îmi transmită în timpul lecturii gândul ,,aaah, înțeleg perfect, și eu am trecut prin asta" sau ,,ce frumos trebuie să fie! Mi-aș dori să trăiesc și eu asta". În niciun caz nu cred că ar trebui să mă oblige să mă întreb ce a vrut să spună autorul prin figura aia de stil care n-are niciun sens sau prin metafora absurdă pe care poate a scris-o când era beat. Bănuiesc că trebuie să fii familiarizat cu stilul lui Cummings pentru a ajunge să îl apreciezi, cam cum e treaba cu brânza cu mucegai, dar mie nu-mi place nici mucegaiul, nici Cummings. Pe mine pur și simplu nu m-a prins. Am citit o grămadă de romane erotice, suficiente încât să fac diferența între erotism și pornografie, între senzualitate și vulgaritate, iar poemele astea m-au dezgustat pe alocuri pentru că vorbesc și despre lucruri care ar trebui ținute doar pentru noi, chiar dacă nu suntem singurii care le facem. Nu pentru că sunt tabu sau pentru că noi suntem pudici ori ipocriți, ci pentru că așa este elegant. Volumul este o ediție bilingvă în care sunt cuprinse și câteva dintre desenele vulgare ale autorului, care aduc a mâzgălelile pe care le fac băieții la pubertate pe bănci și pereții toaletelor. Mai jos aveți o mostră de poem erotic. Nu mai zic nimic. Recenzia aici: https://sandradeaconu.blogspot.com/20....
,,m-ai înfierbântat, îi zicea
dar ești însurat, spunea ea
intru acum
și-ncă cum
mă termin,
doar puțin,
oh nu, mor)
ia-o-ncetișor
juisezi?,
tu ce crezi?)
mă-nnebunești!
(Al Meu ești)
,,m-ai înfierbântat, îi zicea
dar ești însurat, spunea ea
intru acum
și-ncă cum
mă termin,
doar puțin,
oh nu, mor)
ia-o-ncetișor
juisezi?,
tu ce crezi?)
mă-nnebunești!
(Al Meu ești)
November 1, 2017
e. e. cummings però è stato tradotto molto meglio che non in questo libro.
mary de rachewiltz, figlia di ezra pound (qualcosa i cromosomi vorranno dire) l'ha fatto così:
I like my body when it is with your
I like my body when it is with your
body. it is something so new.
muscles better and nerves more.
I love your body. I like what he does,
and the like. I like to hear her spine
dorsal, his bones and the flickering
-flat-hard I kiss
yet again and again
you like kissing this and that,
I like, slowly stroking the thick
electric fur, and what comes to meat
that separates … and eyes big crumbs of love,
and maybe I like the thrill
below me so new you.
mi piace il mio corpo quand'è col tuo
mi piace il mio corpo quand'è col tuo
corpo. è una cosa tanto nuova.
muscoli meglio e nervi di più.
mi piace il tuo corpo. mi piace quel che fa,
e il come. mi piace sentir la sua spina
dorsale, le sue ossa e il tremolante
-liscio-sodo che bacerò
ancora ancora e ancora
di te mi piace baciare questo e quello,
mi piace, lentamente accarezzare, il folto
elettrico pelo, e quel che viene a carne
che si separa... e occhi grandi briciole d'amore,
e forse mi piace il brivido
di sotto me te così nuova.
(mettere il link di un film è terribilmente veltroniano, lo so. e vabbè, cippa):
http://youtu.be/xzA1KDxKXZw
mary de rachewiltz, figlia di ezra pound (qualcosa i cromosomi vorranno dire) l'ha fatto così:
I like my body when it is with your
I like my body when it is with your
body. it is something so new.
muscles better and nerves more.
I love your body. I like what he does,
and the like. I like to hear her spine
dorsal, his bones and the flickering
-flat-hard I kiss
yet again and again
you like kissing this and that,
I like, slowly stroking the thick
electric fur, and what comes to meat
that separates … and eyes big crumbs of love,
and maybe I like the thrill
below me so new you.
mi piace il mio corpo quand'è col tuo
mi piace il mio corpo quand'è col tuo
corpo. è una cosa tanto nuova.
muscoli meglio e nervi di più.
mi piace il tuo corpo. mi piace quel che fa,
e il come. mi piace sentir la sua spina
dorsale, le sue ossa e il tremolante
-liscio-sodo che bacerò
ancora ancora e ancora
di te mi piace baciare questo e quello,
mi piace, lentamente accarezzare, il folto
elettrico pelo, e quel che viene a carne
che si separa... e occhi grandi briciole d'amore,
e forse mi piace il brivido
di sotto me te così nuova.
(mettere il link di un film è terribilmente veltroniano, lo so. e vabbè, cippa):
http://youtu.be/xzA1KDxKXZw
October 31, 2018
Ένας από τους αγαπημένους μου ερωτικούς ποιητές! Όσες φορές και αν διαβάσω τα ποιήματά του δεν τα χορταίνω! Καθένα από αυτά μια πανδαισία αισθήσεων (ακόμα και οπτικών)! Το αγαπημένου μου είναι σίγουρα το May I feel ... ΔΙΑΒΑΣΤΕ ΤΟ και θα με θυμηθείτε!
January 18, 2025
I liked some poems, I did not like some. Some were good, some were not. (The drawings were pretty good.)
Would not have described myself as a Cummings fan but saw this at Barnes & Noble and I couldn’t resist the topic. Overall, some quite good poems in here, or at least some quite good phrases, and the general conceit of his poetry has an impact, as always!
But the book was kind of spoiled for me by this poem near the end that starts “in hammamet did camping queers et al)” and which seems to be both homophobic *and* orientalist/Islamophobic, although it’s hard to tell for sure because it’s, uh, written by E.E. Cummings. I tried googling and didn’t find much because it looks like the poem was originally unpublished. Other than a JSTOR article which I would have had to log in to read, the main reference I found which mentioned it was a white nationalist ~commentary~ on Cummings’ work that was neutral-to-favorable, which, YIKES.
I then tried googling the editor of this book to see what he could have been thinking, and turns out he is 97 or something and the main editor for Cummings’ posthumous works… so I’m guessing he was less than interested in providing critical commentary. Still, wild to me that in a book of mostly fine, straight erotic poetry he tossed “in hammamet” in like it was totally fine, no explanation necessary.
All of which is to say that I would recommend some of these poems but not so much this particular collection of them. I guess I could have given this 3 stars for the entire body of work it contains, but I’m subtracting one for making me stumble across a genuinely self-described white nationalist website, which I realized in kind of dawning horror as I read it. What the fuck!
Would not have described myself as a Cummings fan but saw this at Barnes & Noble and I couldn’t resist the topic. Overall, some quite good poems in here, or at least some quite good phrases, and the general conceit of his poetry has an impact, as always!
But the book was kind of spoiled for me by this poem near the end that starts “in hammamet did camping queers et al)” and which seems to be both homophobic *and* orientalist/Islamophobic, although it’s hard to tell for sure because it’s, uh, written by E.E. Cummings. I tried googling and didn’t find much because it looks like the poem was originally unpublished. Other than a JSTOR article which I would have had to log in to read, the main reference I found which mentioned it was a white nationalist ~commentary~ on Cummings’ work that was neutral-to-favorable, which, YIKES.
I then tried googling the editor of this book to see what he could have been thinking, and turns out he is 97 or something and the main editor for Cummings’ posthumous works… so I’m guessing he was less than interested in providing critical commentary. Still, wild to me that in a book of mostly fine, straight erotic poetry he tossed “in hammamet” in like it was totally fine, no explanation necessary.
All of which is to say that I would recommend some of these poems but not so much this particular collection of them. I guess I could have given this 3 stars for the entire body of work it contains, but I’m subtracting one for making me stumble across a genuinely self-described white nationalist website, which I realized in kind of dawning horror as I read it. What the fuck!
July 7, 2013
Here are some words: mucous
mud worms hole
big ol' thighs
and let's avoid punct
Uation because hey it's worked for us so far
(despite its tortured preciousness)
and throw in some more ()
which look sort of like boobies
so score
Eh Marj? O
yes dearie
and as erotic as a fart
to the nuts
AMERICA
mud worms hole
big ol' thighs
and let's avoid punct
Uation because hey it's worked for us so far
(despite its tortured preciousness)
and throw in some more ()
which look sort of like boobies
so score
Eh Marj? O
yes dearie
and as erotic as a fart
to the nuts
AMERICA
March 3, 2013
Not the best collection of his work, but it did have a few of my favorites
January 9, 2014
Absoutely brilliant. Gorgeous pictures too.
April 11, 2024
As a sometimes collector of names, there is something particularly enticing about a highly regarded writer who also writes erotic poetry. While I am confessing, the vast majority of poetry fails to carry its beauty to my ear. More correctly, my brain fails to register its beauty. This was not a problem with the erotic musing of Goethe’s excellent and tender, Erotica Romana. Like wise is the case for with Erotic Poems, Kindle Edition, by and illustrated by E. E. Cummings.
No, I cannot claim to have appreciated every nuance, but mostly the 72 pages left me appreciating that the poet certainly loved as much as lusted for women. No, I will go further, this stanza expresses almost exactly what I have felt and therefore know to be true:
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh…
There is more as gentle and self-discovering and others that more frankly celebrate the carnal facts of sex. What reached me most was his surprise over the touch and touching of such beauty that by some magic shares his bed.
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.
Of the drawings, the nudity and the occasionally blatant fact of coupling emphasize that this is adult material. The style is more of a period, arguably and effectively minimal, but well matched to the tone and intent of the poems.
Collected from various manuscripts, by George James Firmage, there is something here to win your lover, something to share with your lover and something to make her feel why she should be your lover.
No, I cannot claim to have appreciated every nuance, but mostly the 72 pages left me appreciating that the poet certainly loved as much as lusted for women. No, I will go further, this stanza expresses almost exactly what I have felt and therefore know to be true:
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh…
There is more as gentle and self-discovering and others that more frankly celebrate the carnal facts of sex. What reached me most was his surprise over the touch and touching of such beauty that by some magic shares his bed.
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.
Of the drawings, the nudity and the occasionally blatant fact of coupling emphasize that this is adult material. The style is more of a period, arguably and effectively minimal, but well matched to the tone and intent of the poems.
Collected from various manuscripts, by George James Firmage, there is something here to win your lover, something to share with your lover and something to make her feel why she should be your lover.
March 24, 2022
"i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric fur,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh...And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new"
***
"gosto do meu corpo quando está com o teu
corpo. É uma coisa de tal maneira nova.
Muscula melhor e enerva mais.
gosto do teu corpo. gosto do que ele faz,
gosto dos seus comos. gosto de sentir a espinha
do teu corpo e os seus ossos, e a trémula
-firme-delicada eza e que irei
outra vez e outra vez e outra vez
beijar, gosto de beijar isto e aquilo de ti,
gosto, lentamente acariciando a,penugem carregada
do teu pêlo eléctrico,e o-que-é-isso aparece
com a carne apartada...E os olhos grandes migalhas-de-amor,
e possivelmente gosto do arrepio
de sob mim tu de tal maneira nova"
e.e.cummings
Trad. Joana Jacinto e António Gregório
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric fur,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh...And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new"
***
"gosto do meu corpo quando está com o teu
corpo. É uma coisa de tal maneira nova.
Muscula melhor e enerva mais.
gosto do teu corpo. gosto do que ele faz,
gosto dos seus comos. gosto de sentir a espinha
do teu corpo e os seus ossos, e a trémula
-firme-delicada eza e que irei
outra vez e outra vez e outra vez
beijar, gosto de beijar isto e aquilo de ti,
gosto, lentamente acariciando a,penugem carregada
do teu pêlo eléctrico,e o-que-é-isso aparece
com a carne apartada...E os olhos grandes migalhas-de-amor,
e possivelmente gosto do arrepio
de sob mim tu de tal maneira nova"
e.e.cummings
Trad. Joana Jacinto e António Gregório
April 19, 2021
.... it's a tad lame to read erotic poems when one can't.... penetrate through the meaning of half of them, unless the author commits, as he puts it himself, an impenetrable transparency in writing.
xix.
my girl’s tall with hard long eyes
as she stands, with her long hard hands keeping
silence on her dress, good for sleeping
is her long hard body filled with surprise
like a white shocking wire, when she smiles
a hard long smile it sometimes makes
gaily go clean through me tickling aches,
and the weak noise of her eyes easily files
my impatience to an edge—my girl’s tall
and taut, with thin legs just like a vine
that’s spent all of its life on a garden-wall,
and is going to die. When we grimly go to bed
with these legs she begins to heave and twine
about me, and to kiss my face and head.
xvii.
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 ease
the poem which i do not write.
xix.
my girl’s tall with hard long eyes
as she stands, with her long hard hands keeping
silence on her dress, good for sleeping
is her long hard body filled with surprise
like a white shocking wire, when she smiles
a hard long smile it sometimes makes
gaily go clean through me tickling aches,
and the weak noise of her eyes easily files
my impatience to an edge—my girl’s tall
and taut, with thin legs just like a vine
that’s spent all of its life on a garden-wall,
and is going to die. When we grimly go to bed
with these legs she begins to heave and twine
about me, and to kiss my face and head.
xvii.
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 ease
the poem which i do not write.
April 20, 2015
What the fuck.... No. Just no.
I was so excited for this book because Tom Hiddleston read a poem that I'm in love with. These poems were annoying and such a let down. The entire book, I loved one poem. Maybe it went over my head, maybe it's just my preference, I don't care. I didn't enjoy this collection of ee cummings' poetry.
brought allofher tremB
-ling
to a :dead.
stand-
;Still)
WHY?!
I know it's supposed to be all "appealing to the eye" but it wasn't.
n w
O
h
S
LoW
h
myGODye
ss
Ughhhhh! Just STOP.
I was so excited for this book because Tom Hiddleston read a poem that I'm in love with. These poems were annoying and such a let down. The entire book, I loved one poem. Maybe it went over my head, maybe it's just my preference, I don't care. I didn't enjoy this collection of ee cummings' poetry.
brought allofher tremB
-ling
to a :dead.
stand-
;Still)
WHY?!
I know it's supposed to be all "appealing to the eye" but it wasn't.
n w
O
h
S
LoW
h
myGODye
ss
Ughhhhh! Just STOP.
November 4, 2013
This book exists simply as a marketing ploy for valentine's day. If you like ee cummings, it is sure that you already have his Complete Poems, and the only reason someone would be foolish enough to cough up $13 for this instead of the Complete (&superior) Poems is because they're hard up for a valentine's day present. Really. They do this with Anne Sexton, too (Love Poems). Truly, this is way too narrow a collection for cummings' fans, or anyone who likes poetry.
The poems get plenty of stars, but the publisher's intention is suspect. I admit it is good to try to get people interested in poetry anywhichway, but this rankles.
The poems get plenty of stars, but the publisher's intention is suspect. I admit it is good to try to get people interested in poetry anywhichway, but this rankles.
July 10, 2012
Many poems I've read before but I also found a couple new. I'm not certain it was worth culling his work into an "erotic" collection but for the price, I don't feel put out. There are images throughout, drawn by the man himself, very Matisse.
I once had a professor tell me she became a nun because she never found a man like Atticus Finch. Only E. E. Cummings will ever ignite such furor in my heart.
I once had a professor tell me she became a nun because she never found a man like Atticus Finch. Only E. E. Cummings will ever ignite such furor in my heart.
December 31, 2013
This slender book is, I think, intended to be brought along for a pleasant afternoon with one's lover. It's concise, easy to share, and slender enough to not get in the way. Seriously, this is all meant to be read aloud - have fun rendering cummings's visual work into a spoken piece. If the idea of reading poetry to and with your lover doesn't appeal to either of you, this is not for you. Also, I think that you're both really missing out...
June 26, 2016
This one isn't easy to read in public because of the graphic drawings accompanying most poems. I did like the drawings, by the way. What I did discover is that e. e. cummings isn't my favorite poet. Maybe I was reading too much into each and every phrase, but I just didn't "get" many of them. Mind you, I love almost any erotic writing. I decided to continue admiring the drawings and his unique and compelling formats. Those two things I appreciate much more than the actual poems.
2.5 Stars
2.5 Stars
January 7, 2017
I'm not really to sure why I loved this book so much, I think that I just have a deep appreciation for E.E. Cummings work in general. I love poetry and (maybe it's because this is the first collection of his poetry I read) this was relatable without actually being relatable at all. He just has this way with words that makes you able to read to book in one sitting, I loved it.
July 25, 2020
"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 ease
the poem which i do not write."
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 ease
the poem which i do not write."
Read
October 1, 2022if you see me logging this no you didn’t also this was from 2016 and it didn’t lead to the outcome you’d expect it would when my ex and i read this to each other
June 22, 2014
Cummings is one of the few poets whose work wholly humbles me every time. Usually, it is a mixture of (1) me having to read the poems multiple times to make sure I understand them (and even then...) and (2) a reverence for his irreverant (and that's a good thing here) manipulation of the English language. He takes a subject as arguably cut-and-dried as sex and conveys in stylized detail the honest romp--not only of the act being portrayed, but in his shuffling around of parts of speech to say things, as I see it, perfectly. And it doesn't come off creepy. He is a wordsmith, through and through, and I can only hope that even ONE thing I write has the same powerful and memorable effect on a reader as his work has on me...
August 9, 2022
o my wholly unwise and definite
lady of the wistful dollish hands
(whose nudity hurriedly extends
its final gesture lewd and exquisite,
with a certain agreeable and wee
decorum)o my wholly made for loving
lady
(and what is left of me
your kissing breasts timidly complicate)
only always your kiss will grasp me quite.
Always only my arms completely press
through the hideous and bright night
your crazed and interesting nakedness
—from you always i only rise from something
slovenly beautiful gestureless
January 14, 2022
Some of it maintains a nice balance of invention, playfulness and sensuality, some of it is great and some of it is frustrating and labored. Cummings' drawings are a nice bonus, but this volume is perhaps a bit too uneven to measure up to his best work.
EDIT: This brand new bilingual (PT/EN) version with artwork by Daniela Krtsch looks fantastic, though: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6...
EDIT: This brand new bilingual (PT/EN) version with artwork by Daniela Krtsch looks fantastic, though: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6...
May 7, 2012
raise the shade
will youse dearie?
rain
wouldn't that
get yer goat but
we don't care do
we dearie we should
worry about the rain
huh
dearie?
yknow
i'm
sorry for awl the
poor girls that
gets up god
knows when every
day of their
lives
aint you,
oo-oo . dearie
not so
hard dear
you're killing me
will youse dearie?
rain
wouldn't that
get yer goat but
we don't care do
we dearie we should
worry about the rain
huh
dearie?
yknow
i'm
sorry for awl the
poor girls that
gets up god
knows when every
day of their
lives
aint you,
oo-oo . dearie
not so
hard dear
you're killing me
April 23, 2017
April is National Poetry month, so why not read a book full of sexy poems. This is definitely a book to set beside the bed on the night table. "Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, now what I mean."
"May I Feel Said He"
May I feel said he
(I'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she.
(Try listening to Tom Hiddleston reading this poem.... Oh. My. Word.)
"May I Feel Said He"
May I feel said he
(I'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she.
(Try listening to Tom Hiddleston reading this poem.... Oh. My. Word.)
February 14, 2020
In one day, I read three poetry books. "On Love", and "On Cats" by Charles Bukowaski and this "Erotic Poems" by E. E. Cummings. Well, it was possible because I was traveling for last 24 hours and I just have no other work to get engaged.
Some poems are really good. There are explicit sex drawings. Well, I liked them. I don't think it's bad to admire sex. 😂
Some poems are really good. There are explicit sex drawings. Well, I liked them. I don't think it's bad to admire sex. 😂
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