Burning water — Summary

Njogu_MagzRomantic

She was a pond of water, accumulated from droplets of rain, tears and tears of pain with mud at the bottom, moss on the sides and hyacinth on the top. No fish dared be found in her, no life ever nurtured by her, no form of attraction whatsoever displayed by her.

He was a bonfire, made alive by sticks of burning wood, rough and hard being slowly added. With ashes at the bottom, stones on the sides, and a burning light at the top. No creature dared to touch, no life ever not burnt by him, no form of safety whatsoever displayed by him.

They swam in her, inserted their bodies into her sanctuary, splashed her everywhere and left their dirt in her. Spat in her.

They warmed by him, used his heat to please themselves, used his light to see themselves better and left him in ashes. Spat in him.

He took a part of him dipped it into her and they, created something spectacular. He was not just a bonfire and she was not just a pond. They became burning water, dangerous yet calm.

Show the whole poemHide the poem

Learn Poems app

Try the Learn Poems app

Everything from the website trainer, and more: new exercises, voice recording and sharing, reminders, quick review.

Njogu_Magz builds the poem on two parallel portraits: a woman as a stagnant pond and a man as a bonfire. Both are described by what they lack. She is muddy, mossy and choked with hyacinth, so nothing lives in her. He burns everything that comes near, so nothing is safe with him. The imagery suggests that each has been shaped by pain, her "tears and tears of pain," his rough, hard fuel being "slowly added."

The third and fourth stanzas turn to other people, who use them and move on. They swim in her, leave their dirt and spit in her; they warm themselves by him and leave him in ashes. The repeated "Spat in" feels bitter, as if the speaker knows this treatment well.

Then the tone shifts. When the two meet, they make "burning water," something spectacular. The mood moves from bleak and resentful to quietly hopeful, though the last line, "dangerous yet calm," keeps a note of caution. Their pain hasn't vanished; it has become a strength.

Read also

More by Njogu_Magz

All poems
ContemplativeNjogu_Magz

Flocking the flock?

You try so much to be As kind as your maker Making your face as busy as a bee Not wanting to become a faker.
SadNjogu_Magz

Solitude

My days are grim My nights are blue, My memory tainted green, My vision has lost its hue
SadNjogu_Magz

Why oh why?

Hide that pain, Wash away that stain Throw it all in a pail Don't let them see you frail.