“The Bonfire” published at Spillwords Press

On By Mike U.In Poetry

Hey, friends. I’m excited to let you know my poem “The Bonfire” has been published at Spillwords Press. Many thanks to Dagmara K. and her team for sharing this piece. I truly appreciate this opportunity.

This piece is especially important to me as it reflects America’s new fascist government’s crackdown on freedom of speech and basic human rights. Censorship of any type is oppression, and our current darkness here in the USA is a direct result of the evils of fascist authoritarian ideology, as well as hatred, racism, bigotry and power run amok. We need to fix this soon, my friends, lest it destroys us all.

“The Bonfire”
(c) 2022 by Michael L. Utley

“in our exuberance to burn the words
Bradbury sagely nods and Orwell sighs
as shock-troopers corral the motley herds
and churlish masses watch with sullen eyes

bonfires glow red in every city square
eight thousand million names recited there
black smoke and fetid fumes assault the air
as filthy faces flicker in the glare…”

You can read the rest of my poem by clicking this link. And once you’re there, take some time to check out the work of many other talented writers at Spillwords Press, where you’ll find a treasure trove of good writing.

48 thoughts on ““The Bonfire” published at Spillwords Press”

    1. Thank you, Russ. I agree–terrifying, indeed. So much destruction has occurred since January 20, and so much more to come. The fear is real, and so many of us won’t survive what’s coming. I appreciate your kind support, my friend.

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    1. Many thanks, Robbie. Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 and George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm were definitely inspirations for this piece. Those three are among the most deeply disturbing novels I’ve ever read. At the time I wrote this piece in 2022, a hate group here in the States called Moms for Liberty was constantly in the news for their book banning/burning campaigns. It’s insane, and it’s fascist, and here we are now in 2025 in an all-new America led by a fascist dictator and his personal Gestapo. It’s a nightmare.

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    1. Thanks, Jeff. Yeah, I wrote this one in 2022 when the maga crowd and their marmalade messiah were squealing so loudly about the Big Lie, and the assault on the Capitol was still fresh in everyone’s minds. Moms for Liberty was all over the news with their book banning/burning insanity (they’re officially listed as a Hate Group with the Southern Poverty Law Center, for many good reasons). I’m a big fan of Bradbury and Orwell, so this is a nod to them, of course (Fahrenheit 451 and 1984 are two of the most profoundly disturbing novels I’ve ever read). I’m sure both of them are rolling over in their graves right now…

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    1. Many thanks, Carol. If worse comes to worst, I’m gonna be like the old woman in this poem. She’s the tragic hero of this piece, refusing to sacrifice love or succumb to the enemy. All I have is my voice. I’d better be willing to use it, even if it’s only protest poetry, you know? I appreciate your kindness, my friend.

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    1. Thank you kindly, Annette. It’s a frightening time we live in, isn’t it? I mentioned both Bradbury and Orwell in the poem, and I just wonder what they’d think of our country and our world today…

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  12. “The Bonfire” is masterful writing in a time when it feels as if the world, as we know it, is on fire. The silence you reference to me is a sense of fear for so much of what has been arrogated and the worriment of what is next. “Like cluster bombs,” this astute piece speaks to me about the daily assault on my inherent tendency to feel safe. “The Keepers,” are those that have the power to take away my entrustment of what I have relied upon to keep my family safe.

    Your reference to sin associated with speaking “our” truth and the penalty of darkness or hellfire is a splendid comparison to the helplessness I feel. The crowds, the fire, and the purging of words that define the ideals I have grown to expect are frightening reminders of what I perceive to be my current reality.

    The woman in this discerning piece is the voice of reason, the hope I cling to, and her word, “love,” which seems to be missing in our world, the lump in the back of my throat. So many have sacrificed their lives to obtain the rights I have grown up with. Checks and balances, with which I am conversant, feel easily burned away. Your poetic prowess is one I have also come to expect when I read your words but this is an extraordinary example of your talent.

    Thank you, Dagmara and staff, for this publication and for your unwavering efforts to publish great works that contain both beautiful and truly concerning elements for the populace. Congratulations, Mike, and thank you for finding such a profoundly creative way of expressing how I have been feeling.

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    1. Hey, Joni. Here’s the reply I left for you at Spillwords (it’s currently in moderation):

      “Thank you, Joni, for this insightful appraisal. I’ll tell you what–right now I feel like I’m standing in that crowd of terrified people, holding my own slip of paper, watching the world burn around me… Fascism is monstrous, and it’s set up shop here in the States now. I’m not sure if it was inevitable, but for some insane reason millions of people voted for it, and it sickens me to see my country in flames. I’m a big fan of Bradbury and Orwell, so this is a bit of a nod to both of them. I wonder what they’d think of what’s happening in our country and our world right now? Your comments are always so thorough and profound, Joni, and it means so much to me to know my poetry speaks to you so deeply. Thanks for your stalwart support and endless encouragement, my friend. I’m so glad to know this poem resonated with you.“

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    1. Thanks so much, Liz. I agree with you wholeheartedly. All I have is my voice, and I don’t know if it has any power to change things for the better, but I feel like I must try, you know? It’s a scary world we now inhabit. So much uncertainty.

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    2. Sincere thanks, Kritika. It’s very kind of you to say. I love story-poems. They’re so lyrical in nature, and have a unique flow that prose doesn’t have. I appreciate your generous support so much, my friend.

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    1. Thank you, Jane. Yes, may we live to see this darkness end. I’m too old for this stuff. It just takes the wind out of my sails and I end up in a cocoon of deep depression and despair. It’s a helpless feeling to be so powerless as the country and the world burn around me. Your kind support is a godsend, my friend.

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      1. It really is a frightening and heartbreaking time. Who could have imagined it could be this bad. Wrap yourself in whatever kind of cocoon works, Mike, but make sure you have one or two people you can stay connected to so you keep the depression at bay. Sending hugs.

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