Poems by Joie Bose
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