Looking for a copy of "a burners prayer"

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Misty_123_
Posts: 1
Joined: Sun Mar 22, 2015 2:46 pm
Burning Since: 2015

Looking for a copy of "a burners prayer"

Post by Misty_123_ » Fri Sep 11, 2015 3:32 pm

Just got back from the burn and I'm looking for a copy of this beautifully written poem. It was placed in the temple to burn and a burst into tears when I read it. As a virgin burner, it summed up my whole experience and what I wanted to bring into the world. I'm wondering if anyone knows anything about it. It takes about seeing Hondas and Toyotos as art cars, and accepting people as they are, etc etc. if it wasn't meant to be shared and to be burnt, that's alright. Lots of love!

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islandkat
Posts: 40
Joined: Sun Feb 17, 2013 9:39 pm
Burning Since: 2009
Camp Name: Storytelling Camp
Location: California

Re: Looking for a copy of "a burners prayer"

Post by islandkat » Wed Sep 16, 2015 11:08 am

I agree! I saw the same poem hanging in the Temple. I found there were copies in Center Camp, later, and I was able to grab one. Fortunately it is also on the web. Here you go:

http://www.molohaus.com/burners-prayer/

Burner’s Prayer written (it appears) by Mo Lohaus

May I burn the man at home this year, and finally become a full participant.

May I kick the culture consumption habit cold turkey, and get on with resonating funky genius and vulnerable enthusiasm on my own channel, 24-7.

May I see every public space as center camp, and roll around on the ground with strangers, lovingly and with worshipful presence, as we contact one-in-other.

May I strut my feathers, leathers, muppet cape, and naked benevolent childish soul everywhere I go, feeling fully in character.

May I trick out my apartment like a theme camp, and invite people in off the street to lavish them with exorbitant gifts of presence and affection, lovingly prepared.

Because I can. Because I am rich and overflowing, and giving is why I am here.

May I share shattering rock-bottom truths with everyone, as casually as tea; like old lovers with nothing left to prove or improve on, in the utter safety of the silky oscillation between me and we.

May I strip the locks off my heart and hold open house with everyone I meet; on the bus, in line for groceries, or at the gas station; granting them the hallucinated embellishments of fur, goggles, nudity, and dust, and allowing myself full excitement and wonder at who they might be.

May I look past the surface and see into every- one; recognizing pirates, alien ambassadors, superheroes, and translucent mermaids.

May I call my campmates or show up at their houses at all hours, as easily and shamelessly as I might wander up to their tents, and never need a reason for pressing my nose on their cheek or flopping on the couch and snuggling.

May I love fully, fluidly, everyone who pulls me deeper into living, and put away any residual shame about how my love looks.

Remembering: We are in the desert! We are dusty, unkempt, and beautiful! We are mad ones and saints and divas all, and there is no expectation of tidiness!

Remembering: There will be grit and friction, There always is. But in the cathartic blessing of our meeting and self-discovery no one notices.

Remembering most of all that my emotional nudity is my ticket to the event, past the gate and greeters, to unity and a friendly universe; always honored and gratefully received.

May I hallucinate freely, seeing Volvos as giant bunny slippers and Hondas as mobile cupcakes.

May I notice the installations of genius and wild vision all about me, the dreams made real in my daily built world, and may I touch the wide round belly of the pregnant possible with both my hands.

May I witness those around me strutting their beauty and hope, their frailty, unfinishedness, and quirky unique poised artful equilibrium beside the abyss of judgment, and may I yell out my approval and applaud.

May I witness the gifting that happens every moment; the trade of glances, smiles, and kind words that are as quenching and comforting in this daily wasteland of formality and alienation as popsicles and mist baths ever were.

May I burn the man every day. May I take his idealized ass down. May I take the icon of who I am supposed to be and gently release it to flame.

May I take his habits, opinions, head noise, timidity, and ego-protective arrogance and lovingly douse them with gas.

This is my religion; humbly, devotedly, and persistently performed: THAT MAN will BURN.

May I build the temple every morning, and honor and celebrate those who have sung the song of my life; who have held my life like their own dear infant in their arms.

May I build the temple every morning; be awestruck by its beauty every day; smear it with prayers and tears; and then, at dusk, release it in holy smoke.

May I smell it burn and know that was it: This day was my whole life, and it is over.

And if I am blessed to wake once more.…May I do it all again.

May I do it all again more fiercely and passionately.

May I do it all again more graciously, goofily, and generously.

May I do it all again…until my life measures up to the love I feel as I walk, bike, or ride an octopus through the eternal city of dreams in which my soul feels at home.

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Isotopia
Posts: 2848
Joined: Fri Sep 05, 2003 11:26 am

Re: Looking for a copy of "a burners prayer"

Post by Isotopia » Wed Sep 16, 2015 4:46 pm

With apologies to National Lampoon an anyone else stupid enough to read my version of the Playa Prayer
Walk carefully among the moop and the piss divots
And remember the BLM fine associated in contributing some of your own
Avoid quiet and aloof people for they are boring and more than a bit unhinged
Do not kick the playa chickens
Speak abysmally of those richer or smarter than yourself,
and only heed their advice if it will garner you a staff priced ticket.
Know which ass to kiss and when.
Consider that a two way on the open playa is OK but a three way fucking ROCKS!
When questioned by BLM or other LEO – deny EVERYTHING!
Be comforted in your disillusionment of missing Daf Punk or Katy Perry,
and despite the shortage of soy latte’s at Center Camp,
there’s probably cold beer in the vacant camp where the RVs are.
Remember Camp Jiffy Lube.
Strive at all times to score drugs, sex, blue tarp or cold beer (in a can)
If you do too much Molly do not try to cuddle with the man holstering the 9mm pistol with the BLM patch on his shoulder.
Do your drugs in your tent.
Especially if those drugs don’t belong to you but
belong to the RV camp where you lifted the cold beers from.
Rest assured that EVERYONE is staring at you.
Especially as the acid strats to kick in.
Fall not on your face when you trip over the tent stake in the camp that is not your own.
And try not to fall into the tent at 3:00am when the couple inside of it are going at it like rabbits.
Be open to the mystery of the playa
and the mystery of where you last saw your lost car keys.
BLM agent Dan Love’s home phone number is (503) 468-1243.
He really is a dick.
Fondle not the passed out woman at Gigsville or her smokin' hot boyfriend.
Choco Taco is code for having sex with minors.
Reflect on your uniqueness and remember that and a quarter
will get you a hand job by a Reno hooker.
You are nothing and your friends secretly think you’re an idiot and a poseur
playing among the heat and the dust.
And whether you know it or not everyone else thinks so too.
You are a fool.
Therefore, make peace with your god and your family for they have
both abandoned you

And though you are alone in the world, it could be worse.
You could be a hippie.

And that would really suck.

Amen.

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Simon of the Playa
Posts: 19096
Joined: Thu Sep 06, 2007 6:25 pm
Burning Since: 1996
Camp Name: La Guilde des Hashischins
Location: Rochester, Nevada.

Re: Looking for a copy of "a burners prayer"

Post by Simon of the Playa » Wed Feb 17, 2016 1:23 pm

Isotopia wrote:With apologies to National Lampoon an anyone else stupid enough to read my version of the Playa Prayer
Walk carefully among the moop and the piss divots
And remember the BLM fine associated in contributing some of your own
Avoid quiet and aloof people for they are boring and more than a bit unhinged
Do not kick the playa chickens
Speak abysmally of those richer or smarter than yourself,
and only heed their advice if it will garner you a staff priced ticket.
Know which ass to kiss and when.
Consider that a two way on the open playa is OK but a three way fucking ROCKS!
When questioned by BLM or other LEO – deny EVERYTHING!
Be comforted in your disillusionment of missing Daf Punk or Katy Perry,
and despite the shortage of soy latte’s at Center Camp,
there’s probably cold beer in the vacant camp where the RVs are.
Remember Camp Jiffy Lube.
Strive at all times to score drugs, sex, blue tarp or cold beer (in a can)
If you do too much Molly do not try to cuddle with the man holstering the 9mm pistol with the BLM patch on his shoulder.
Do your drugs in your tent.
Especially if those drugs don’t belong to you but
belong to the RV camp where you lifted the cold beers from.
Rest assured that EVERYONE is staring at you.
Especially as the acid strats to kick in.
Fall not on your face when you trip over the tent stake in the camp that is not your own.
And try not to fall into the tent at 3:00am when the couple inside of it are going at it like rabbits.
Be open to the mystery of the playa
and the mystery of where you last saw your lost car keys.
BLM agent Dan Love’s home phone number is (503) 468-1243.
He really is a dick.
Fondle not the passed out woman at Gigsville or her smokin' hot boyfriend.
Choco Taco is code for having sex with minors.
Reflect on your uniqueness and remember that and a quarter
will get you a hand job by a Reno hooker.
You are nothing and your friends secretly think you’re an idiot and a poseur
playing among the heat and the dust.
And whether you know it or not everyone else thinks so too.
You are a fool.
Therefore, make peace with your god and your family for they have
both abandoned you

And though you are alone in the world, it could be worse.
You could be a hippie.

And that would really suck.

Amen.


how did i not see this until now, that is the question.
Frida Be You & Me

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