When selecting a book for burning, begin with one that is memorable, preferable one that has a catchy title. Once it is gone you need to recall it easily, so a note worthy book can help there. Try to choose an author who you disagree with strongly. Avoid someone who is highly popular as only you will be cheering the little conflagration. The topic is most important as is the writer’s politics, anti something, or a cause which you detest. Don’t choose books in foreign languages, as this is a dead giveaway that you have not actually read the book. Just so long as you COULD have read the thing, we won’t tell.


A big book is more fun than a little one, they last longer. Try to find some associates to cooperate in your cause. Invite them to toss in a few of their least favorite books too. The size of the blaze is an indication of commitment. Note; soaking the books in a propellant is considered cheating, but works quite well at making your blaze a stand out event. Books are like ideas, they seem very substantial at first, but just add a little heated controversy and most folks will drop them like hot potatoes.


Lastly, think about the books creator and how they appear to the public. If they should be severely challenged, a cute little kid or have been awarded something really impressive, like a Nobel Peace Prize, you may come off as a big bully. This touches on publicity, like the press. Make a few phone calls ahead of time as you don’t get noticed for a pile of ashes. Location can also work to your advantage if there is a public space, you can get lots of attention. Just don’t pick a spot like in front of the fire house or inside your locked jail cell.


Oh yeah, don’t forget to have a message. The whole event could go up in smoke if you are asked, “what is your purpose?” and you are not prepared. Statements like “I just hate the guy, or “she is a really big poop” don’t cut it. Try working up a head of steam and spewing a lot of vitriol at the cameras. You would be surprised at how many people will follow a cause if you are really pissed off about something, anything. It also helps if you haven’t tried writing yourself. Since that could just make you appear all sour grapes if your stuff sucks. And they can always retaliate by burning your stuff, NOT COOL!


Now as darkness fills my sight
There comes this final thought
Always you had been there
As if pulling the strings
My ego and my shadow

Once we had a great confabulation
An inseparable alliance against the world
There was nothing we wouldnt try
You and I, my ego and my shadow

We were an example for the unsuccessful,
Young were amazed and the old did envy
Our pluck and steady pace
Money was plenty and the girls gave way
To us, my ego my shadow and I

When I thought I held magical charm,
Good hair and tight flesh brought a wink
But the reflection soon would tell
My hold could not sustain the weight
Of us, my ego my shadow and I

For you had allowed me a falsehood
Where I needed caution, you egged me on
Never concerned for the morning after
The ultimate disaster, for after I’ve gone
There will be only you, my ego and my shadow

When I was a young pup

I lived with a man who had no feet

Every night, prior to sleep

He’d arange his clothes upon the sheet

As if he was still within them.


And there, a shoe on each bedpost

He would slip beneath

Spread eagle and wide eyed

He would dream the night away

God knows where those shoes took him

When the fire rains down
We shall laugh at your massive homes
All you’ve built of wood will burn
When the fire rains down

When the Earth shatters all
We’ll watch as the dams crack and break
Water will smash and bridges will fall
When the Earth shatters all

When the mud covers stone
We shall dance the whole night long
Mud will bury and roads be gone
When mud covers stone

When the lights go out
Many will cry for light and sight
People of the land will parise and shout
When the lights go out

When the fire rains down
We shall lie in peace again
While the issueing work of the gods resound
We’ll rest in peace once the fire rains down

A Dying Rose



Among the petals of a dying Rose

A healing force gives presence

 To a thought



Atop a frozen hill

Warming sun breaks into crystal ice

And a drop of life appears



While the delicate whisker of a mouse

Passes over one fine seed

And life remains



When all the World is in

A heralded struggle to continue

Must we destroy?



Good, will touch and sustain a heart

That yesterday melted, to drop life

Onto one tiny Rose seed

I am Well Rider

I am well rider
Many buckets have I known
They press my feet into my toes
The windlass whirls
The rope in hand
Scratches at my cheek and nose

Echoes fill my head
When down the rocky shaft I plunge
Bursting far below, the tiny sky recedes
As black cascades and icy numb
The bubbles churn
Against my ears like drums

I am well rider
None can know my obsession
Many times Ive dropped down in
To see and feel my cold fixation
To sink into the deep
Below, where life is in cessation

But that is where I find the eyes
Long forgotten faces
How they hold you
Want to tell you of their stories
They have left our world
Each denied their places

I am well rider
Soon I must return
But here I found a solace
Here my ache and pain does churn
Her face and hair has bound me
My empty lungs now burn

Yet only here I see her
Her story sad and tragic
Cast, she was in shame
Taken by a lovers anger
Her only sin was loving,
A man who would not Father

Me:   Pinch me if I’m dreaming, but you don’t seem to be

        doing so many Big World Events, Like in the Bible.

God: Hummm…

Me:  You know, like parting the sea or huge plagues and

        the like. Exciting stuff like the Great Flood and Tower of

        Babel type retribution events.

God: Well yes….

Me:  See, I know many examples of whole nations gone

        awry, vast groups of people who seem to defie the life

        style which were exampled in your teachings.

God: That’s so…. would you pass the marmalade?

Me:   Well I thought you might be thinking about doing one

        of those great apocalyptic deals again, to show your disgust.

God: Well I just can’t do floods again. That thing in

        New Orleans, not my fault, you really can’t save a sinner

        once you have drowned em.  Pause. . . . .

        Your coffee is cold…there it’s hot again.

        Pause. . . . . Ahh, an image on toast?

Me:   That didn’t impress anyone. The face on Mars had

        great potential, something like that…

God: I’ll take it up with the Big Events Committee,

        run it up the pole, K?

Me:   Right, sounds good. Oh yeah, those pajamas were a gift…

God: I know.. I’ll drop them in the mail. Thanks for breakfast,

         be seein’ ya!

Me:   Say “Hi” to your mom for me. . . .