The world is full of amazing love poetry, but what if you want to take it to the next level?
Perhaps you’re looking for something that goes a bit deeper. You want a poem that penetrates your partner’s…heart. Set the love poetry aside and bring forth the lust, heat, and sex.
You wouldn’t be the first looking to bring dirty poems home. Countless playwrights have opened the door to intimacy and created some of the greatest bawdy verses of all time. Read on for some of the best dirty poems to share with your special someone.
“A Perfect Lady“
Her phone’s out of charge.
So what? She won’t blink.
We just were at large:
Her friends’ wedding, I think.
She finished the wine,
So, now she’s aglow
While I walk the line,
Enjoying the show.Her tone makes me shiver,
Her gaze is intense.
Words pour and deliver:
From her moist lips, they commence.
I call her a dirty
Name: her one single ear
Is better than thirty
Shaw’s plays, loud and clear.Her nerves, taut like harp strings,
I yearn to penetrate deeper still,
Your Majesty! She reigns and rings:
She wants me more, as she always will.
Her thighs’, hips’ burning’s
Too much to bear.
Til morning’s warning
No sleep, I swear!She’s ever so slight…
I relish the scope:
The sinful, the trite –
There is no false hope.
Her succulent mouth
Whispers: “It’s odd:
You did fool around!
Did you like that mob?”Bra, don’t let me down…
Street lights fade away,
Soft as a kiss. The town
Welcomes a brand-new day.
We’re melting like wax…
Dawn breaks, bright and new.
“You blew their minds to the max!”
“Some couldn’t be helped, mind you!”
D. Rudoy is a contemporary American poet who doesn’t beat around the bush (unless that bush is so worth it). “A Perfect Lady” is a celebration of physical love and passion, painting a vivid picture of a bright night of intimacy. The poem navigates the between the emotional and carnal aspects of love, merging the two in a raw, unfiltered depiction.
With its vivid imagery and candid language, the poem doesn’t shy away from the primal facet of human relationships, embodying the modernist ethos in literature. The poet uses a conversational tone, turning an intimate moment into a relatable narrative, while also exploring themes of desire, passion, and the sensory experience of love.
- Get a printed copy of D. Rudoy’s poetry collection for free and decide if you want to pay for it later here. Limited quantity.
For Him (18+)
“Coming Home”
(a rude & dirty sex poem)
Your wife has been used like a whore, and she loved it.
Her panties are plugging her pussy and ass,
Both full of another man’s сum. Will you notice,
My sweetheart, or talk about that football game?
That close, unforgettable four-point encounter,
About that momentous homerun, and the ref?
Oh, honey, I told you before: I don’t care, and
You don’t have a clue, like you’re blind, dumb and deaf.
You fuсk up, and big time. You take me for granted.
You fuсk me like I am your porcelain doll.
Perhaps I have not been a good wifey to you?
Okay, let me give you a chance, after all.
A millionth chance to rise to the occasion,
To prove you’re a man, not an average fool,
To catch me, a cheating slut high on endorphins,
Completely red-handed. Cum-pussied. Ass-plugged.
I started this mess, and I want to be fair, so…
So, I’ll stay a slut till it’s time for desert,
And if you grab me before that, you will know it,
Who wouldn’t? And, as you go on, to avert,
I’ll say you’re the best, and I’ll beg for forgiveness,
I’ll tell you that I have been wrong, and forgot…
But if you do not… Baby! If you don’t kiss me,
It means you deserve it, and then some, a lot!
***
The wife’s in the kitchen, she’s taking a selfie
While squatting stripped over a plate of desert.
A long strand of cum’s hanging down from her pussy,
She pushes. It lands on the cake. She’s alert.
The selfie is sent to her lover. Its title’s:
“More cream for my husband”. She turns off the phone,
Adjusts her attire, returns to the dining
Room and feeds that cake to her husband alone.
“Arrival”
William Carlos Williams was an American poet known for his vivid imagery and distinct style. His sultry poem Arrival paints a vivid portrait of a man carefully undressing his lover.
Williams likens the women’s dress to autumn leaves falling from a tree, leaving her naked and exposed. Once the body has emerged, the speaker trails off with an ellipsis, leaving the events to follow up to the reader’s imagination.
“Wild Nights”
If you are a poetry fan, then you’ve most likely heard of Emily Dickinson. She was a reclusive author and poet who grew up on her family’s homestead. Unlike many women of the time, she never joined a church and never married.
Her beautiful lyrical poetry and letters only became known after her death in 1886. All of this you may have been familiar with, but did you know that little Miss Dickinson was also a dirty poetry connoisseur? Wild Nights is a lusty tale of desire that describes the ecstasies of sex in nautical terms.
“To His Mistress Going to Bed”
Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy,
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,
Is tir’d with standing though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven’s Zone glistering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear,
That th’eyes of busy fools may be stopped there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime,
Tells me from you, that now it is bed time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off, such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th’hill’s shadow steals.
Off with that wiry Coronet and shew
The hairy Diadem which on you doth grow:
Now off with those shoes, and then safely tread
In this love’s hallow’d temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes, heaven’s Angels used to be
Received by men; Thou Angel bringst with thee
A heaven like Mahomet’s Paradise; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know,
By this these Angels from an evil sprite,
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
Licence my roving hands, and let them go,
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O my America! my new-found-land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man mann’d,
My Mine of precious stones, My Empirie,
How blest am I in this discovering thee!
To enter in these bonds, is to be free;
Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.
Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee,
As souls unbodied, bodies uncloth’d must be,
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta’s balls, cast in men’s views,
That when a fool’s eye lighteth on a Gem,
His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them.
Like pictures, or like books’ gay coverings made
For lay-men, are all women thus array’d;
Themselves are mystic books, which only we
(Whom their imputed grace will dignify)
Must see reveal’d. Then since that I may know;
As liberally, as to a Midwife, shew
Thy self: cast all, yea, this white linen hence,
There is no penance due to innocence.
To teach thee, I am naked first; why then
What needst thou have more covering than a man.
This poem was written by the English poet John Donne near the end of the 1500s. During this period, bawdy and dirty love poems were commonplace.
In this particular poem, the speaker entreats his mistress to join him in bed. He begs her to remove her clothing, insisting that he will be unable to sleep until his “solider” has performed his task.
The speaker confesses his jealousy of the woman’s corset for it sits so close to her breasts. He goes on to praise her beauty, declaring her body a pure and undiscovered land that he fully intends to explore.
“The Floating Poem, Unnumbered”
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.
Some dirty poems use imagery and subtle analogies to get the point across. That is not the case with this contemporary poem by Adrienne Rich, where there is no room for misinterpretation.
If you are looking for a dirty poem that dives into oral sex, this is the one for you. The speaker describes in vivid detail the touch of her partner’s tongue on various parts of her body, as well as the joy of reciprocating those attentions.
Dirty Poems for Him: “The Platonic Blow”
Written in 1948, this poem was enough to make mothers blush and fathers grumble in disapproval. W.H. Auden takes his time to vividly describe a sexual encounter between two young adults on a hot summer’s day.
First, he sets the tone with a friendly invitation and the characters’ awkward ice-breaking conversation. Lust takes over as pants are unzipped and a beautiful symbol of masculinity is revealed, all nine inches of it. From there the poem gets X-rated, building to the ultimate climactic end.
“The Encounter”
This sensual poem is by the contemporary poet and winner of the 2020 Noble Prize in Literature, Louise Gluck. She is the author of twelve books of poetry that cover a number of themes and motifs.
Rather than getting down and dirty, The Encounter portrays a lighter and more intimate side of sex. The longing between the two characters is not strictly hormonal. This poem highlights a deeper connection and knowledge that brings the two lovers together.
Dirty Poems for Her: “The Atheist”
This twenty-two-word poem by Megan Falley doesn’t play around. Falley describes the first sexual encounter between two lovers and a resulting realization.
In this short, sweet, and to-the-point sex poem, the speaker confesses that she or he has never prayed. She or he claims this is because each person is limited to the number of times they can declare, “Oh God.” For this person, every declaration is made in the bedroom.
DIY: Funny Dirty Poems
You don’t have to be a recognized and revered poet to come up with dirty poems. Here are a few templates to follow to come up with your own creative verse.
Dirty “Roses Are Red…” Poems
We are all familiar with the age-old classic:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you
However, when it comes to creating dirty love poems, the last two lines are entirely up for interpretation.
Try something sultry:
Take off that lace
And let me inside you
Or go kinky with it:
Handcuffs and whips
Will make me cry ou
With dirty roses are red poems, the sky is the limit. Have fun playing around with different word combinations to find what works for you.
Dirty Limerick Poems
Limericks are five-line poems, three long and two short, with a rhyming scheme of a-a-b-b-a. Although there are limericks of all sorts, the most common types are bawdy and humorous.
They go a little something like this:
There came a young girl from South Bowers
Who cornered her men in their showers
She’d ask for their dick
To suck and to lick
Until they fell under her powers
Coming up with dirty limerick poems is a fun activity to do with friends, especially at a bachelorette party. Then you can take everything you learned home to surprise your partner with all the dirty poems for him.
The Best Dirty Poems
Whether you are reciting proven classics or creating your own, dirty poems bring a little spice and excitement to your love life. Use them to get your partner in the mood. Or, have a good laugh about funny dirty poems with your closest friends.
Once all the fun is done, finish the night off with one of these romantic goodnight poems.
We all need some fun and naughty during these times.
Awesome!!
Women’s Desires
Between the sheets of satin and silk,
Where passion drips and honeyed lust is spilled,
There lies a realm of flesh divine,
Where women revel, decadence enshrined.
Their bodies ripe, awash with sacred sin,
With eager mouths, they drink the nectar in.
They feast on desire, on pleasure’s golden wine,
Between the folds of silk and satin fine.
From dawn to dusk, in moonlight’s pallid glow,
The symphony of pleasure, it does grow.
Their bodies locked in an erotic dance,
In this realm of pleasure, they prance.
Where others balk, they dive in headfirst,
Slaking their primal, carnal thirst.
In rivulets of desire, they bask and roll,
Unfettered, they surrender control.
In their realm, taboos hold no sway,
They dance on the edge, the filth their ballet.
In the thrall of lust, they moan and sigh,
Underneath the satin sheets, they lie.
They take, they give, they share, they taste,
With brazen hands, they trace and chaste.
The lines of pleasure, drawn in cum and sweat,
In the realm of desire, no regret.
With eager eyes, they watch and learn,
The fire of desire, in their bellies churn.
From mouth to breast, from heel to thigh,
In the realm of pleasure, they fly.
Where the world sees filth, they see grace,
Their passions, they do not efface.
In the throes of ecstasy, they writhe and scream,
In the realm of desire, they reign supreme.
*A nasty sex poem*
In the realm of whispered desires and hidden thrills,
Where pristine facades mask the rawest skills,
She strides with pride, an unapologetic core,
Seeking out pleasure, always craving more.
Her pussy, a chalice of decadent sin,
Begs to be stretched, filled deep within.
The thrill of another’s seed, so profound,
Dripping, oozing, a forbidden sound.
Every illicit touch, a dance with fire,
Igniting a primal, unchecked desire.
Her lover’s grip, demanding and tight,
Pushing her deeper into the night.
The taste of danger, the scent of deceit,
Makes every encounter feel so complete.
Her husband unknowing, tasting another’s essence,
Every drop a secret, a potent lesson.
In this world of debauchery and lust,
Every moan, every thrust, a breach of trust.
Yet in this dance, she finds her power,
A proud, filthy gal, every passing hour.
Her journey of self, of seeking the high,
Chasing the stretch, the fill, the sly lie.
For in this realm of raw fervor and might,
She finds her true self, in the darkest of night.
i love the part of her husband tasting another’s essence