It might surprise you to learn that poetry written by women about the women they love, a.k.a. erotic lesbian poetry or Lesbian Love Poems, has been around since at least the 1800’s and is just as lusty and steamy, if not more so, than what we write today.
But what do we understand by poetry?
Poetry is described as: literary work in which special attention is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm.
But what exactly does that refer to?
Don’t authors of romance and erotica also express feelings of lust, desire, sexual climax and deep satisfaction?
The answer is ‘yes,’ but poetry has a style and rhythm that is unlike any other type of writing mankind currently uses.
Read on to find more about why steamy poems can provide so much value and discover the best Steamy Lesbian Poems!
By the way: if you look for some of the best Erotic Poems, no matter the sexual orientation, do not miss our large selection of the 30 Best Erotic Poems that supercharge your Love Life!
What Lesbian Poetry is all about...
The Chinese woman by the name of Wu Tsao was a celebrated lesbian poet who was well-known for writing poetry to courtesans. In one poem for the courtesan, Ch’ing Lin, Tsao writes:
“…One smile from you when we meet, And I become speechless and forget every word... You glow like a perfumed lamp In the gathering shadows. I want to possess you completely – Your jade body And your promised heart.”
There’s no doubt that Wu Tsao knew how to express her longing through poetry and she’s certainly not the only one. Throughout time and especially into the last decade or so, poetry has taken on new life and new meaning for lesbian women.
Natalie Diaz wrote a beautiful ode to female lovers that was in part posted to Auto Straddle and reads:
Wanting her was so close to prayer – I should not. But it was July and in a city where desire means, Upstairs we can break each other open the single blessing, I had to give was Mouth – so gave and gave I did.
What a sensual way to describe a sweet rendezvous in the height of summer and love’s delicate, delightful kiss?
Here’s a short and to the point poem from SachaG1971 on All Poetry.
I daydream of you for a moment or two, I can’t wait for you to be near me. You tantalize my thoughts, so they are all now caught, in my X-rated tale, of delight!
Here is a another snippet of a beautiful Lesbian Erotic Poem by poet Audrey Lorde, just to make you more curious...
…and I knew when I entered her I was high wind in her forests hollow fingers whispering sound honey flowed from the split cup impaled on a lance of tongues on the tips of her breasts on her navel and my breath howling into entrances through lungs of pain…
It’s easy to fall into the trap that all poetry, especially love poetry, is created equal.
But like all books or all paintings are as individual as the author or artist who did the work; poetry is as singularly individual as it’s author.
So, without further ado here are some super-sexy erotic lesbian poems to heat you up.
The best steamy, lovely and sexy Erotic Lesbian Poems
#1 A Night with a Teacher
A poet by the name Khan doesn’t hold back when it comes to spending a steamy, sexy night with a teacher. While this poet doesn’t elaborate on whether it was her teacher, she does give a peek into the erotic time the two shared ... and what has been taught.
I dreamed of you last night in a flimsy see-through robe You took me in your hands and kissed my vicious eyes fondling my tiny breasts
You laid me on your bed undressed me like a doll and tasted all I had
Your tongue was a hissing snake your mouth was a mouth of cat you seemed to be starved for years
You taught me how to be had by a teacher hot and randy who wants to taste my juices
You made me moan and scream It was a luscious dream.
#2 Poem by Emily Dickinson
It might surprise you to know that Emily Dickinson, a notoriously famous author and poet was one of society’s most policed lesbians, according to Go Mag. That didn’t stop her, however, from penning words of passion in her classic tone.
While this poem doesn’t have a title, it leaves no doubt as to Dickenson’s need for her partner, who is claimed to have been her sister-in-law, Susan.
Done with the Compass – Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden – Ah – the Sea! Might I but moor – tonight – In thee!
If you love the poetry of Emily Dickinson, we have special hint for you:
you should definitely read the collection of intimate letters between her and her sister-in-law, Susan Huntington. Although a combination of poetry and prose, it unravels the power of a love which has to be kept secretly!
#3 Love, Death and the Changing of the Seasons by Marilyn Hacker
In Love, Death and the Changing of the Seasons, Marilyn Hacker discusses the tragedies and triumphs of life.
And believe us: Marilyn Hacker is famous for her ‘in your face’ poetry that tells it like it is.
In the poem below she spells out exactly the heart-pounding moment when you’re so swamped with love and need that nothing else, but the one we love, will do.
Although I’d cream my jeans touching your breast, sweetheart, it isn’t lust; it’s all the rest of what I want with you that scares me shitless.
#4 Excerpt from At Deep Midnight by Minnie Bruce Pratt
No introduction needed - just enjoy:
Inside no bigger than a corncrib. The door shuts from outside. They can hear the board drop into the slot, the angry man shut in to stand stud, the woman on her back on cornshucks, who later, bloody, smothers her new daughter in rough homespun.
Inside a white-washed, lamplit room, a man bends over a ledger: Boy Jacob Seventy-Five Dollars, Five Sows and Sixteen Piggs Twenty Dollars. His pen flickers: how fast could the pair he bought cheap increase five-fold because God had said replenish the earth and subdue it?
Now the aunts are asking about her children, the boy babies who'd so pleased, with their white skin, silky crisp as new-printed money, a good thing too, with the farm lost long ago. Beatrice wonders if the youngest sister
remembers the noon she snapped the bedroom door open
on her, arched, aching, above the girl cousin, taking
turns on the carefully made-up bed. Flushed like dove
out of the room's dusty shade, they murmured denials.
They ended the long kissing that gets no children.
Her nipples had been brown-pink like a bitten-into fig,
gritty sweet, never tasted, lost as her cousin dressed
after a night they'd sunk together in the feather mattress
hip to hip, hair tangled, kinky brown, springcoiled blonde,
skin stuck to humid skin in the sandy damp sheets. Dressed,
at breakfast, elbow to elbow, they ate biscuits and jelly.
She never claimed her with a look, no wherewithal, no currency in love, no madness, no money, only a silent vacancy
Only the stupor of lying alone on the bed reading: The man
takes the woman roughly in his arms, pushes her down. If
she lay still enough, she might feel. Pressing herself
down. The bedspread's blunt crochet cuts into her face,
her cheek rouged and gouged by the thread's harsh twist.
#5 My Lover is a Woman by Pat Parker
my lover is a woman and when I hold her feel her warmth I feel good feel safe
then - I never think of my family’s voices never hear my sisters say bulldaggers, queers, funny come see us, but don’t bring your friends it’s ok with us, but don’t tell mama it’d break her heart never feel my father turn in his grave never hear my mother cry Lord, what kind of child is this?
my lover’s hair is blonde and when it rubs across my face it feels soft feels like a thousand fingers touch my skin & hold me and I feel good
then - I never think of the little boy who spat & called me nigger never think of the policemen who kicked my body & said crawl never think of Black bodies hanging in trees or filled with bullet holes never hear my sisters say white folks hair stinks don’t trust any of them never feel my father turn in his grave never hear my mother talk of her backache after scrubbing floors never hear her cry Lord, what kind of child is this?
my lover's eyes are blue and when she looks at me I float in a warm lake feel my muscles go weak with want feel good feel safe
then - I never think of the blue eyes that have glared at me moved three stools away from me in a bar never hear my sisters rage of syphilitic Black men as guinea pigs rage of sterilized children watch them just stop in an intersection to scare the old white bitch never feel my father turn in his grave never remember my mother teaching me the yes sirs & ma'ams to keep me alive never hear my mother cry Lord, what kind of child is this?
and when we go to a gay bar and my people shun me because I crossed the line and her people look to see what's wrong with her what defect drove her to me
and when we walk the streets of this city forget and touch or hold hands and the people stare, glare, frown, & taunt at those queers
I remember every word taught me every word said to me every deed done to me
and then I hate I look at my lover and for an instant doubt
then - I hold her hand tighter and I can hear my mother cry. Lord, what kind of child is this?
Pat Parker delivers huge themes in her four-stanza poem about her lover!
Heart-breaking and honest, Parker pulls you into the plight of the LGBTQA+ community and gives you just a glimpse of what it must be like to live a life in turmoil.
#6 Angel Falls by MP Hill
Is it considered a drought, if I'm thirsty for you?
Cascading angel who freely falls soft to rocks
Being that you are the only possible remedy for my parched lips...
Mother of all waters, I keep praying for you, safety through the devils mountain. purest and clairsentiant like crystals one scrys into for answers. playing and bending light several which ways to entertain me.
Famine and debris am I, to savor your dew would bring me rapture
Cascading goddess who falls with little to no fear
Not even a stream was I, but I drew in your mist, hoarding it till I became prosperous
Oasis that you are, much like a water sage to the mirage of my soul
You erode me and shape me like mud and clay.
You're limitless as a moist well, peaking on infinity. Oh, my tongue swells for your never ending glory.
Cast out of Heaven, you are all for me.
- Angel falls by MP. Hill -
#7 Floating Poem by Adrienne Rich
Whatever happens with us, your body will haunt mine - tender, delicate your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond of the fiddlehead fern in forests just washed by sun.
Your traveled, generous thighs between which my whole face has come and come - the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there - the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth - your touch on me, firm, protective, searching me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers reaching where I had been waiting years for you in my rose-wet cave - whatever happens, this is.
And our final choice:
Even though not written by a woman, this poem by M.R. Burch is short, straight-to-the-point and does fantastic job of boosting a woman’s self-confidence and cherishes the beauty of every woman!
#8 Expert Advice by M. R. Burch
Your breasts are perfect for your lithe, slender body. Please stop making false comparisons your hobby!
Need more? Then you definitely cannot miss this!
Are you interested in more steamy poetry?
Then check out our selection of the greatest Erotic Poems of all time.
And believe us: even though those poems are not "strictly" about lesbian love, they all celebrate the importance and beauty of love and lust in life!
And do you know that we here at Filthybooks love not only lesbian poetry but steamy lesbian literature in all its forms. So why not head over and check out our selection of the Best Erotic Lesbian Romance Novels or our free Erotic Lesbian Short Story!