Psyche, Eros and Human Beings

From a distance from the earth,

there is unity,

the closer I fly towards her,

there is land and ocean,

animals, cities, cars…lovers and graves.

Minds, hearts and life,

war, innocence lost and continuous grieving

which never ends.

This is not a new experiment,

it is a now action,

holding hands again…

with Psyche, Eros and Human Beings…

Our souls are rich and reaching to us,

our spirits are clean,

watering the cosmos with

hope forever!

Fly out again with a powerful wind,

of ascending wings of imagination!

Here love is never lost !

 

 

She’s not there.

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If she laid her egg sack, which she most likely has, I have not seen her. Every year she comes and I paint her image, or take her picture. From the pool mesh fence I take her and let her crawl over my shoulders. This year only she indirectly shows herself. A floating exoskeleton on top of clear pool water, or images from friends. Her Praying Mantis tree with the beautiful purple anarchy flowers are as a waterfall and arbor waiting for her return. She will be golden green, large and graceful now. She facing death. I wear her tattoo on my left wrist. The purple anarchy flower. Last night at a local club again she told me that I was at the right time and place. I was meant to be here, even though she was not. The leather jacket with silver studs addressed me. The young man stood in front of me. There splashed upon his back, drawn and painted, is her anarchy flower. Holding up my wrist I knew it to be true. I tapped the young tall man on the shoulder and showed him the image. He acknowledged it and the music blew through and around us. The longitude and latitude the continuity of life. It was all meant to be, I was where I was meant to be…. but she was not there.

 

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A safety pin from the Punk Rock God !!

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“Such knowledge is too wonderful

For me,

To wonderful for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your

Presence?

I go up to the heavens, you are

There;

If I make my bed in the depths,

You are there;

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

If I settle on the far side of the sea,

Even there your hand will guide me

Fast”

~Psalm 138:2 New International Version

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Ironically this quote from Psalms is how I feel about Punk Rock. Exactly! How can this be? Is Punk Rock God to me? Yes it is, in a sense it is to me. Where can I go from the punk rock spirit? It is true it will not let me forget it! If I make my bed in the depths, punk rock is there.

As many others who were taken up by it, punk rock gave me a voice and said do it. If Punk Rock is dying to popular culture, this has no bearing on me. Punk Rock is an accountable community.

Punk Rock is a cultural underground musical pheromone of holy sound.. A spirit that rock & rolls around this planet. It is a rogue that generates change. However you plug into it, Punk Rock is a continuity that identifies a generation and so moves on in different ways.

I may not always be true to it, I often hide from it…but when I try to… it finds me again. I rise on the wings of dawn. Inspired and filled with that spirit of Punk Rock again. I was enlightened in an alley, where beer, anarchy and music became my God. To those that are vastly superior …those in bands, fans and, that strange brew called records collectors, I salute you.

AMEN!!

So what is all this mumbo Jumbo about? One of the original Los Angeles Punk Rock bands is playing around. I have been avoiding them.

“That club is too far to drive too”

Or

“I have to get up early the next day and take my kids to school!”

My heart aches and I feel guilty. I think upon what Ross Lomas from the punk band GBH said to me once,

“That is no excuse… I have seen punks on their death-bed at shows. If you are sick we can put you in a wheel chair and roll you back stage!!”

This is the punk rock accountability I was taking about. I have been but can no longer avoid The Weirdos because they are going to play a few blocks from my house.

“If I settle on the far side of the sea,

Even there your hand will guide me.”

This is a punk rock confessional!!

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Now for some oysters before the big meal….enthusiasm !!!

Weirdos Enjoy the BIG PUNK ROCK *1984 *the real deal * Flipside Fanzine radio *tape number eight.

This tape was released around 28 fucking years ago.  Where a  process of recording, organizing, mailing and airing  tapes live turned out to be a very successful project indeed !!…  Wow !! Projects took some time back in the 1980s. All sent through our post office box. The Flipside post office was a busy place in Whittier California. One little tiny post office box handled vast amount of gifts. Which consisted of records, mail, ads and money. It was like Christmas every day. Then there was the Post Office Master. A lady that I hated at first but who turned out to leave little gifts for us in our ‘pobox  each Christmas season. She thought we were weird at first with our wild ways… but later she became a part of our unofficial crew in her own dependable way. Enjoy a cameo appearance by Henry Rollins.

(You must trust your eyes you’re not insane)

To Mr. Cliff Roman….

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Who is stroking their carrots?

HudleyFlipside:

Today oldest son and I were talking about prostitution due to his philosophy course in college. Not all of us are unaware and stupid…!!

Originally posted on The Seminary of Praying Mantis:

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The apartment was adjoined at the hip to the subway. Every time the subway went by the building shook. It was either Queens or Yonkers New York where we watched; looking down from the tall building to the streets below. We were staying only for a few days while the bands where in town. At dusk the produce stores closed down and locked up, pulling down their metal roller type garage doors.  Later, the limousines drove up. The tall mannequin looking young women and the old gray-haired men were steeping out; the sounds of disco, a really terrible kind, blared below.It was the luck of being young and beautiful. It was of being old  and foolish… with loads of dough. We watched and listened until the sun came up. ~ Excerpt from The Seminary of Praying Mantis : A Punkalullaby: In New York by Hudley Flipside

Canoga Park, West…

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Poem 56

Stretching older;
Further away from,
The wilds of youth.

Being older newness;
More experience,
at being young !!

You’re A Big Girl Now

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Mr. Fuck watching the film Love Story. “that Ali MacGraw babe would make one great Go Go Dancer.”

When the film Love Story came out in 1970, I was around twelve years old. As a tom boy everything in the film repelled me. My nemesis and best friend Lynn looked just like that annoying woman Ali MacGraw,

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry,” PLEASE??!!

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The guys followed Lynn around like puppy dogs and the time we use to have, playing football and baseball on the golf course hole near her home, ended. All the guys who I use to play with started talking about the film. The naked scenes especially. Just like the pages form the first Godfather book. Everyone was reading the page where Sonny screwed some lady before his wedding. I felt just like Betty White, when the character Rose form the Golden Girls said, that sex;

“Was some colossal joke.”

I had it down. Life was about running as fast as you could, sliding down hills on cardboard, and having dirt fights with massive weeds. It was about hating school, and all of your teachers, and only enjoying kickball. My prime objective of,

“Never stop running as fast you can,” imploded when puberty hit. I blame the whole darn thing on the film Love Story.

 

 

 

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Big Boots and Dancing

 

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 Pete woke up on the Chinese New Year looking out of the hotel room window while a chicken’s head was chopped off. Right across the street at a restaurant/ café. Big boots and dancing…it be a trilling time for me.

This is one of my favorite images. I’ve posted it a few time before. It contains a lineage of Flipside Fanzine characters who worked on issues. It has an interesting foresight to It.; from left to right is X-8, Hud and Al. The picture is taken by Peter Lanswick. All four of us worked on Flipside together at an interesting time in the world of Punk Rock. It was before the Orange County scene exploded as well as the new generation of punk English bands. The early Los Angeles punks were much more silent now. X was going for a major label. The Go Go’s, The Bags and Fear were kind of changing their places and goals. The original punk scene of LA was dying and a new one was forming.

In this picture X-8 represents the original punks of Los Angeles. Who were creative, loud and in your face! I fell into the scene later at this time as Hud and then of course Flipside Fanzine went on for 20 years with Al.

I like the texture and graphic perspective of this image. Pete is a wonderful photographer. This picture was taken at an alley in San Francisco when we were tagging the underground mod scene. The Specials and Madness were still unknown and as wild as any youthful band. I think it is the best time of crazy characters and wild, free adventures.

I was reading Generation X and trying to find Prince Buster 45s.

 

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Comes Harbinger

Feel the striking Harbinger of the year,

moving powerfully into Autumn.

The deep dark nights,

windy days and white mornings,

the rain is fresh, cold and new,

when walking on grass,

chills bare feet.

The smell of cinnamon candles,

anticipation of many early breakfasts,

oft’ to school we go.

Leaves fall dancing on streets,

car heaters are not warm enough,

coats, sweaters and leather jackets,

boots, belts and long leg pants.

Exhale lingers in the air as if smoking,

warmth of hugs,

cuddling is always inviting.

Comes Harbinger,

Angel calls Autumn.

TRIANGULAR POEM

To Abraham

 This is a poem created on a triangular form for a fellow student in a poetry class at Los Angeles Valley College. Abraham was a wise mature student taking a course with a bunch of young adults. He teased us and spoke Yiddish in class. He had Holocaust tattoos on his arm that were expanded and dull. He invited the class to his apartment in Van Nuys. Every wall was covered with bookshelves filled with a verity of books. I found a book by William Blake there that day from one of the dusty shelves! I made this to remember Abraham, a simple man of extraordinary insight and purpose!

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Singed by Abraham Pesah Lenkawicki 3-11-1998