Joie Bose's Poems
"It's not a disease, it's memories. You need closures. From all the bridges that you've crossed. Burn them," the shrink said.
memories stand out as the freckles left on your face,
you had exposed it to the sun for too long.
memories burn the layers of your skin, and leave spots
not always that burn and itch, but you're marked.
memories torment you as a needle on a syringe at the clinic
which lies await, to pierce your veins before it finds the blood vessels.
I thought the shrink would say it's some sort of disease and give me a box of pills to get rid of this disease which makes me become so unlike me that often
when no one is looking I try to brush this self away - were it dandruff on my shoulders;
the shrink must have gone mad himself dealing with so many mad people, madness is a disease and this shrink must have caught it- why were I not prescribed those pills?
I can't afford closures, they are too expensive.
My body is a skin sack
fat filling in and out, seasonally;
summer, winter, autumn and spring
the bulges come and go, periodically.
Were I to hold on to my winter time
when I'd be shrivelled and gaunt
a cloth hanging on me, my heart cold
I know life would slowly leave this skin sack.
I let thus the warm fat sit around my waist
I let it slip along my arms and thighs
I let it come and cup my chin
and the face breaks into a smile.
I had starved myself for long and had forgotten to smile
My tongue had parched itself and the stomach had gone dumb
I was much less of a human then.
There have been nights when I've cried for food
There have been nights when I've cried for what the food did to me
And then there was that night when I realized
it wasn't the food that made me cry.
All my life I have sought for the approval of them
who handed out their disapproval to me
and that is what which made me cry
and all I did was blame the food and the fat in my skin sack.
My skin sack waxes and wanes, I accept, I admit,
and I try not to be ashamed of it.
It was a soap bubble and I was in it
and all the lovely people around
had rainbow halos around their faces;
People were laughing, as they always do
All people are all born to laugh
and I was born, to be in a soap bubble to
gaze at the people laughing-
perhaps one day too, I will laugh...
"Who will burst the bubble?"
they all chanted like a mantra
and they all reached out their palms
Their fore fingers outstretched as if they were all aiming
for a gold medal and if they could touch it
they could too become all gold, twenty four carats;
but I in my bubble all foaming from the mouth of ecstasy,
a champagne bottle opened on a twentieth anniversary
was soaring higher and higher
for all the people had rainbows around their faces
and how I love the seven colours...
Your love and mine is but a soap bubble, my love
as all human loves happen to get burst one day
and I don't fear it anymore as I don't fear those
outstretched hands that don't want me to see the rainbows;
But I fear you won't close my eyes...
When bubbles burst, rainbows go away-
the seven coloured circles that protect you from thorns
make you forget your desert
as you get drenched in the water of an oasis.
I have seen children stare at them who sell bubbles
at traffic signals, street corners and outside school gates;
and in their gaze I found me, staring at you from afar...
the water stands calm with ripples-
a poem will not make it still,
it still remains witness to the night.
your son now on your chest
my son on mine and her son on hers -
how we don't have daughters.
our bosoms hold more than sons
one day the water will come out
to intoxicate the world
with none to hear the witnesses.
this were a part of another story
but one day I will write ours.
I always have
Nothing to tell you,
I am nothing to you
Are nothing to me
And we have nothing
And I have nothing
Left in me to give,
And I accept nothing
In our nothingness, realizations dawn
Perfection, perhaps is nothing.
Can you equate
with your lover,
perhaps put a formula of
arithmetic, geometry or algebra
- this is why I fear love
and fall into the pit-
it often tends to become