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Best Poems Written by Patricia Henriques

Below are the all-time best Patricia Henriques poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Patricia Henriques Poem

Vacancy

I don't have filled spaces.
Nonexisting time lies to me,
making me feel as if I were not empty.
Space remains painfully unoccupied in me.
There is no prince
no poetry or sigh
that a sigh without cause is consequence of passion.
There is no romance or excitement.
Word or song.
Meaning or ignorance.
I don't have time, it's true,
for I am filled with the strange intensity of freedom and youth.
However, all the space of my soul I keep
like a ballroom with no ball.
. . . If someone shouted in me . . .
it would echo.

Patricia Evans

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This Whole Sex Thing

FORGIVE ME THAT I HAVEN'T BEEN THROUGH THIS WHOLE SEX THING,
DON'T KNOW OF THESE ORGIES OR  THE BACUS PARTIES,
DON'T KNOW OF SOME OTHER WOMAN'S CURVES,
OF SOME OTHER SCENT, EITHER STRONG OR WEAK,
DON'T KNOW OF THE WETNESS OF SOME OTHER VAGINA,
NOT ABOUT TWO MEN IN ME,
MORE THAN A SINGLE PENIS TOUCHING MY FEELINGS.
NO, UNFORTUNATELY I DIDN'T HAVE THESE PLEASURES
FROM THE HOOKERS,
WHIPS, ECSTASY,THREESOMES, SWING.
SORRY, I DON'T KNOW THESE BEDS,
WASN'T LUCKY ENOUGHT TO HAVE THAT KIND OF COURAGE.
NEVER GOT BEAT UP WITH A BELT,
NEVER HUNG ON THE CEILING,
NEVER STUFFED ME WITH DRUGS,
NEVER SAW UNREALISTIC IMAGES
NOR SAID ABUSIVE WORDS
WHILE THEY CALLED ME WHORE
OR WHILE THEY SPANKED ME
IN SEARCH OF A MASOQUIST PLEASURE.
POOR ME, NEVER BROKE THE TABOOS
CUMMING IN SOMEONE I BARELY KNOW,
NEVER TASTED DOZENS OF DIFFERENT NUDES,
RAGGED TIMES TEN INSIDE OUT
FOR BEING DRENCHED IN DIFFERENT SPERMS,
HAVING COUPLES BETWEEN MY LEGS
THAT I DON'T EVEN KNOW THE NAMES,
WHERE THEY LIVE, WHAT THEY WEAR OR WHAT THEY EAT.
NEVER PIERCED ME WITH PINS
THEY HAVE NEVER MADE ME A TOY.
NEVER TASTED AN ORGASM
WITH  PUBLIC WATCHING,
NEVER ENDED WITH APPLAUSE,
NEVER TRIPPED ON EXHAUSTED MEN
LYING ON MY LIVING ROOM RUG,
DRUNK FROM ALCOHOL
BURNING FROM ALL THEIR HOLES...

I HAVE JUST WHISPERED " I LOVE YOU" ,
ABSORBED ONE MANS JOY,
DROVE MY NAILS IN JUST ONE BODY,
RIPPED  A FEW SHIRTS,
ANSWERED TO JUST AN UNIQUE TOUCH.
I HAVE ONLY MEMORIZED HIS SIGNALS,
HIS SCARS
AND I HAVE ONLY KNOWN HIS CARNIVALS,
HIS FAULTS,
HIS MOANS AND HIS MANY GROANS.
WHAT A SHAME THAT I HAVE BEEN A GEISHA
FOR ONLY ONE MANS DESIRE
AND ONE IRRESISTIBLE "LET ME...".
BACK, SIDE, FRONT
ABOVE, BELOW, IN BETWEEN
I HAVE BEEN WHAT HE WANTED ME TO BE;
DAME, PROSTITUTE, ANIMAL, HUMAN
LADY, CRETIN, FATAL AND SWEET
BUT ALWAYS HIS,
NAKED ONLY IN FRONT OF HIM...

BUT NOW, WHAT WILL WE DO?
I STILL CAN LEARN ABOUT SEX
BUT WHO COULD TEACH HIM  LOVE?

PATRICIA EVANS

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Strip Tease

Unclasped my pearl necklace
and loosened my long, straight hair,
opened the buttons of my dress and let it fall,
took off my lingerie,
tearing the delicate silk,
and left me naked.
After that, with his finger-scalpel,
he sliced into my skin,
as though I were meat.
He put his surgeon hands
into my entrails and
ripped out my guts,
my ordinary cells
and all the primary ones.
All of the healthy blood,
all of the useless blood,
spurted from me.
He tore into what was healthy,
and into what was infected,
every pustule.
With eyes like rays
of laser light,
he pulled away my organs
and boned me.
I lay down 
next to my clothes
and to what was taken
with the wisdom
of a firm and sharp lancet.
From my lurid nudity
I begged him to possess me,
moaning into spasms,
and when he broke through my soul,
what a fantastic orgasm!

Patricia Evans

Details | Patricia Henriques Poem

About Dreams and Reality

When she really wanted to grow up,
she used to think it must be easier
to be grown than to be small.
She used to think, and she had faith in it,
that if she were a little more skillful,
dreaming would be worth it,
because the girl used to believe
that dreamed dreams
became true
with time.
And all the girl wanted then
was to see all of her dreams
racing through time
so they could become reality.
She became less confused
when a wise teacher
helped her understand
that we grow up faster
the more perfect
our learning is.
In every possible way
the child wanted to learn.
She wanted to know everything,
not just the fact, but the reason
for stars hanging in the sky,
for gravity and centifugal force,
for storms and for flowering.
The more the time passed,
the more she tried to learn.
And she touched everything
and she felt everything
and she read everything.
She used to eat
with the hunger of someone who wants to have
ideas,
and to understand them,
science and philosophy,
arts and eruptions,
names and abbreviations.
But when girl had finally grown up
as all creatures
do
a deep sadness
overtook her completely.
Now that she knew
about colors and transparent colors,
about Gregorian chant and itchy skin
about moons and circumferences,
about the world, about onomatopeia,
she could easily understand
that dream and reality
are parallel lines.

Details | Patricia Henriques Poem

Happy Birthday, Beloved

I have never come here
because I was sure I wouldn't find you,
but now that I have arrived
this silent autumn's garden
makes me feel you may be around
I don't hear your steps
like a lost tired ghost
or see your shining transparence
or listen to a whispered voice.
No, I can't feel hot or cold
or any creeping sensation.
It is just that when I read your name
in this clean and clear marble
and saw your black and white picture
where you appear so young, so healthy,
(I had chosen it myself)
when this silence invaded my soul
and the image of this garden
brought me the memories
of your happy and strong steps
through the grass of our house,
and these memories came so alive
I knew you were at my side
Well, what to do?
I sit in this nearby grave
and lay down on your lap
waiting for the old peace to come.
Dad, is it true
that you have talked to my brother
and that you have helped him?
Is it true that he has asked
and that you have answered?
I was the one who used to believe
in such unbelievable things, remember?
And yet I hadn't come here before today
for I was sure I wouldn't find you.
As you can see dad, I changed my mind.
I changed my faith and so did my way
two seconds after your leaving.
I was supposed to be the strongest
I am ashamed of my weakness
Would you forgive me, my father?
Could you?
I felt lost, dear
I felt angry, and I felt alone
I hated God, I hated to be alive.
Now that I have come
and that you are here . . .
I can see my wasted life
Not anymore, my love
Not anymore, heavenly God
Eat this marshmallow pie I brought
and let's enjoy your birthday.
Thank you for bringing me back
to the good old times
and o.k., Mr. Silly 
for next year, strawberry pie.

Patrícia Evans

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Abstinence

I 
predictably
made you accustomed
to my love
with daily and intense doses
of passion, enchantment
beauty and magical chaos
so 
one day
I could kill you 
like an addict dies;

in pain.

Patricia Evans

Details | Patricia Henriques Poem

Stay

Your burning look 
undresses me 
and fears 
Unmasked the secret 
your sweat 
drains 
drop 
to 
d 
r 
o 
p 
Under the lambskin 
you see the wildness of the wolf. 
Be brave.

Details | Patricia Henriques Poem

I Have Already Told You!

Yes, dear, I have already told you 
I can love you without knowing limits!
I can be the comfort for your doubts
the warm place
the safe shoulder.
Yes, I can lead you to peace
and please you to ecstacy
I can be the mother of your sons
the wife of your dreams
the perfect companion
the right woman.
I can guide you through darkness
I can make you smile a million times
I can dry all of your tears
all of your fears.
Yes! I have already told you
I can be your angel
your demon
your muse
your question
and your so wished answer
for your prayer
for your hopes.
I can be your sex machine
your gentle mistress
your respected woman
your femme fatale
your sweet lady
I can be predictable 
or your daily sweet surprise
I can quench your thirst
feed you
keep you happy
full of energy
alive
sensible
creative.
I can make you feel free
I can make you feel complete
in love
important
special
wanted and
I can make you my priority
I can teach you
I can listen to you
I can learn from you
Yes!
I can love you without knowing limits as
I have already told you!
And as I have already told you
Yes!
I can change my mind.

Details | Patricia Henriques Poem

Reasonable Madness

A billion of leagues
and one pair of legs

Hundreds of smells
So many tastes
torrents of views
innumerable colours
and one nose
one mouth,
two eyes . . . barely.

Countless strangers,
endless loves,
only one sex
and one heart .

Great opportunities,
a few good things
but an infinity of bad
and just one chance,
a short and brief life.


Patricia Evans

Details | Patricia Henriques Poem

But I Know!

They didn't admit it 
but I know what they saw. 
I know about every horror, 
I know about doubts and fears 
and also about their pleasures, 
their orgasms and their ecstasies 
that led them to the gates of infernal madness. 
An antithesis, I'd say, cruel agony full of candor. 
I know what they felt 
their essences, their insides 
I know them to the core. 
I know about their hands shaking 
and about the cold sensation in their stomachs. 
They are silent 
but I know what they talked about; 
flowers, seas, perfumes, 
balsams and table delicacies, 
smiles, strong colors, 
beating hearts and joy. 
About the newly born and about the "here lies," 
about huge storms 
and endless doldrums. 
All the heaven's angels and all their holy peace! 
I know more! 
I know about the loss of sleep, 
the hopes of autumn swept away. 
Blushing faces and sweaty hands 
messy beds, flaming bodies 
and abstractions described 
by their vain philosophy. 
I know about foggy eyes 
about panting breath, 
about laughing for no reason, 
floating humors 
changing the meaning 
of what made sense 
and of what had never made sense before. 
Blood running hot in the veins 
beautiful women looking ugly, 
ugly women looking beautiful, 
certainties and "who would say," 
the strong light of hanging oil lamps 
the weak light of their days, 
time eating candles, 
spiders weaving cobwebs 
and they falling into them. 
They never confessed 
but I know why they never disclosed 
the cruel candor of this intense agony, 
the eternal fire that cools every soul, 
what cannot be understood or explained, 
what provokes no fever but has no cure 
and what guides and what drives them all 
to that harsh and infernal door. 
An antithesis, I'd say, 
the peace of love and the hell of insanity!