Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Benju Sharma

WAR WITH FIRE

I, hurled into the furnace
Did you mistake complacency and forbearance
for weakness and convalescence?
Did you take it as my sexless bearing, my cowardliness?
Our tenderness and vulnerability
allows even our own father to dominate us
Through the lens of a man
every daughter becomes a woman
But with the intense heat of the cauldron
even cold coal flares into fire;
even particles of gold flecked sand
gain value when refined
Yet so many were consumed unto ash;
so many died without existence
Destiny engraved on the forehead
scorched into the cauldron at birth
In grappling with fire
I was fiercely scorched
I was scorched with old beliefs
I was scorched by superstition
I was scorched by religion
I was scorched by legislation
I was scorched by integral rituals
My barbecued flesh toughened
Vitality grew itself inside the bone
My ego inside the marrow
blazed into unstoppable fire
Turned incandescent
my heart’s ocean of love
burned within its volcanic depths;
the maternal love I bare upon my lap
transformed into the flower of fire.
All pity, compassion and tenderness within
flamed. You threw me into the fire
For generations we’ve perished;
grappling with fire
we’ve become the essence of ash
But now
the power of resistance
has grown inside us
expelling the fire through our mouths
we have become Mahakali
waging war with fire–
fire has been defeated!
You threw me into the burning fires of the furnace
but now,
“I” has transformed into “we”
Fire’s incarnation has been born.

Aagosangako Yuddha

Aagosangako Yuddha

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WAR WITH FIRE

I, hurled into the furnace
Did you mistake complacency and forbearance
for weakness and convalescence?
Did you take it as my sexless bearing, my cowardliness?
Our tenderness and vulnerability
allows even our own father to dominate us
Through the lens of a man
every daughter becomes a woman
But with the intense heat of the cauldron
even cold coal flares into fire;
even particles of gold flecked sand
gain value when refined
Yet so many were consumed unto ash;
so many died without existence
Destiny engraved on the forehead
scorched into the cauldron at birth
In grappling with fire
I was fiercely scorched
I was scorched with old beliefs
I was scorched by superstition
I was scorched by religion
I was scorched by legislation
I was scorched by integral rituals
My barbecued flesh toughened
Vitality grew itself inside the bone
My ego inside the marrow
blazed into unstoppable fire
Turned incandescent
my heart’s ocean of love
burned within its volcanic depths;
the maternal love I bare upon my lap
transformed into the flower of fire.
All pity, compassion and tenderness within
flamed. You threw me into the fire
For generations we’ve perished;
grappling with fire
we’ve become the essence of ash
But now
the power of resistance
has grown inside us
expelling the fire through our mouths
we have become Mahakali
waging war with fire–
fire has been defeated!
You threw me into the burning fires of the furnace
but now,
“I” has transformed into “we”
Fire’s incarnation has been born.

WAR WITH FIRE

I, hurled into the furnace
Did you mistake complacency and forbearance
for weakness and convalescence?
Did you take it as my sexless bearing, my cowardliness?
Our tenderness and vulnerability
allows even our own father to dominate us
Through the lens of a man
every daughter becomes a woman
But with the intense heat of the cauldron
even cold coal flares into fire;
even particles of gold flecked sand
gain value when refined
Yet so many were consumed unto ash;
so many died without existence
Destiny engraved on the forehead
scorched into the cauldron at birth
In grappling with fire
I was fiercely scorched
I was scorched with old beliefs
I was scorched by superstition
I was scorched by religion
I was scorched by legislation
I was scorched by integral rituals
My barbecued flesh toughened
Vitality grew itself inside the bone
My ego inside the marrow
blazed into unstoppable fire
Turned incandescent
my heart’s ocean of love
burned within its volcanic depths;
the maternal love I bare upon my lap
transformed into the flower of fire.
All pity, compassion and tenderness within
flamed. You threw me into the fire
For generations we’ve perished;
grappling with fire
we’ve become the essence of ash
But now
the power of resistance
has grown inside us
expelling the fire through our mouths
we have become Mahakali
waging war with fire–
fire has been defeated!
You threw me into the burning fires of the furnace
but now,
“I” has transformed into “we”
Fire’s incarnation has been born.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère