Playing with fire
Playing with fire
Watercolour painting and original poem by Kieran Gonsalves (c) 2025
Not for nothing tis oft said, 'Don't ever play with fire'
It invariably unleashes one's best and worst desires
Emperor Nero callously fiddled even as Rome was burning
Guy Fawkes in failure became the face of rebellion in yearning
God smote debased Sodom with balls of fire in sheer disgust
Vesuvius erupted sans warning, smothering Pompeii in dust
The wheel and fire once propelled the human race over apes
Craftsmanship bloomed with art of all colours and shapes
Instead of making ploughshares, we chose to make spears
Waging endless wars and driving Mother Earth to tears
Pray, O Prometheus, what prompted you to gift us fire?
Has it become the curse of the devil, our funeral pyre?
Footnote: The painting was an innocent throwback to my joyous Scouting days when we camped and cooked food on an open campfire. The poem took a darker turn when I started introspecting about the destructive uses of fire
Comments
God bless and thanks for today’s uplifting message. (WhatsApp comment from a very dear friend)
When excellence meets discipline and mental strength
Keep going Kieran. We are appreciating and clapping. It may not be obvious all the time but yes, we are.
(WhatsApp comment from a dear cousin)
I started doing water colour for the first time in my life, at the pace of one-a-day, following the advice of my mentor - keeping it spontaneous and fun.
This exercise is extremely rewarding as it teaches me to live in the moment. Each day a blank sheet of paper to go with whatever catches my fancy
I have been blogging for some years now but the poetry thing is new.
Yesterday, one of Mum’s co-teachers said, ‘I haven’t met you in person but from your art and poetry, I can tell you are every bit Yvette’s son.’
That was so heartwarming to hear. God bless. - Kieran
Stay well
Kieran
Fire is a good servant, but a bad master.
Fire is a good purifier, as gold will attest.
Also saptapadi around the holy fire, solemnizes matrimony. (WhatsApp comment from an alumni group)
Keith was also a scout in Karachi and still has vivid and happy memories of those times.
I joined an Outward Bound club in high school which my grade 10 science teacher started. We went on 5 day long trips through eastern Canada and US, joined by a group of all black students from Detroit’s inner city who were brought by their high school teacher, a white Bazilian priest who was the best friend of my high school science teacher.
We camped, hiked, snow shied, rock climbed, canoed and more in the wilds Mo matter the season or weather, spit into mixed groups of 4-5, each led by an outward bound trained person. We often didn’t take tents and learned to build our own shelters. These were not just experiences in learning outdoor survival skills but also cultural exchange. The smell of the open fire, warmth of the flames both literally and figuratively, the snapping of the wood as it burned, the fire as a beacon in the night, learning how to build a fire on a snow base, appreciating simple food for our meals cooked over the open fire: these remain vivid memories for me. I can close my eyes and breath in that wood smoke even today! Love this painting of yours - it takes me back! Thank you, Cuz! Xxo (WhatsApp comment from a cousin in Toronto)
Do please confirm your mailing address and I send it to you - my gift to you - Kieran