Hearts Buoyant

To U.S. Representative for California’s 28th congressional district Adam Schiff


I see an illuminated bright 
five pointed star
Over the emotional ocean
Of black and greasy-greedy oil
The light moving upon this darkness 
Wavering leaps of sparkling exuberance.

This star ascends 
as the current below moves 
like the waves of a darkened 
Depressed ocean. 

Shall we focus on the star 
For the exuberance is like
A cleaning soap
A detergent affirming justice 
The Eagle is scrubbed clean.

I see an illuminated bright 
five pointed star  
I hear the waves of the ocean 
Calling to break the
Eagle clean.

Returns the rhythm to the rogue waves
I see justice there  
hearts are buoyant 
Upon that black and greasy-greedy oil
awareness and mindfulness
The Eagle is scrubbed clean! 

My heavenly shower

Jerusalem ~William Blake



My heavenly shower
is a sacred place
of hot, warm or cold water.

It is there for me in worst of times
bones ache and chills of fever
cleaning a dark soul quality away.

I sing, talk and compose there
I talk to my medicine animals there
and say my prayers.

It is an old shower with a whacked head
yet the water cleans me inside and out
my holy shower that sings me sweet words.

 

A Reading: Headless Horseman Road

A reading from my novella To Ride A Painted Pony Wild

Chapter 3. Headless Horseman Road



 



Luck be a lady tonight !

Murder, My Sweet (1944), Dick Powell


Today is a special day. Monday was a special day. It is interesting how maybe in one weeks time I may complete a mission giving The Ten Year Anniversary Issue to three people of my glowing punk rock rebellion . I gave one to Ian MacKaye and one to James. (Punk The Capital; DC Punk)

Jame and Hudley holding a Los Angeles Flipsde Fanzine Anniversary Issue… a night of adventure.

I now am focusing on on Joan Jett and Mike Ness and Shane his manager. I have an advantage knowing these characters from my youth when we hung out in the same tight scene. I trust that the fate or willy dilly that brought us together in the first place will bring us together again . A continuation of friendship, at least from my perspective ! We will see… yet I am happy regardless.

To hug both Mike and Ian an give them an issue of the Flipside Anniversary issue would be amazing . In one weeks time a punk rock miracle. At one time it would have been easy now …. now not so much ! Let’s see how Lady Luck will treat me tonight ? See getting older one can be bolder and have fun still…haha

Thank you to Shane Trulin from Relentless Artist Management , INC / Social Distortion Manager… We were treated like VIP…”Very Important Place In My Heart Friends” I hope they got the issues left at the entrance because they did not let us take them in ) Much love

The guys and dolls in the band got up there and were use to the superabundance of projection. I have always been a ‘behind the scenes’ punk. Yet projecting the history of the original punk voice is a honor I hold attentively in my heart.

So Be It…


Where you can order the Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Ten Year Anniversary Issue. (Check out around the world offers/// you can order this locally.)

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1691716995



 


 

October 21st, Los Angeles Punk The Capital

October 21st, Los Angeles CA, The Regent – Q and A with Henry Rollins, filmmaker(s) and others moderated by Ian Svenonius


Spit Face Girl


Spit Face Girl By Hudley Flipside


At 5AM the alarm went off. Not that sleep was possible at this camp. Whispers crying and bolts of laughter were a constant noise here. Breakfast was served in the big house. Dark wooden tables and chairs lined up two hundred youthful assumed rebels in a large cafeteria. Any light in the room did not help take away from the declaration of order and obedience.

The cool chair-wood felt good against her skin. At first this 13 year old rather small girl let the bullies take her gruel! A pat of butter and a quarter cup of cream is all these youths got.

One day she suddenly grew wise for now as soon as she sat down she quickly put her butter in her mouth.Then she slowly sucked the rich fat around her mouth before she spat it back into her cream dish. She did this as her eyes scanned and confronted any bullies around her.

Drip drip as the fat warden looked away. Then this milky fat, now a delicious  homogeneous cream butter, topped her gruel. She mixed it up with her spoon and then ate it down. None of the other hungry girls took her food again.

The first time she got food wise a bully smiled starry at her whispering, as the heavens above, in her ear,

“So…I guess we’ll call you … spit face.”


Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Number 54~10 Year Anniversary Issue Paperback Documentary (replica) Punk Rock 1977 – 1987.

Available here…

Just in case you didn’t know you can order Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Anniversary Issue #54 (replica) in the US, Canada, UK, Germany, India, France, Italy, Spain, Japan, Brazil, Mexico, Australia. Amazon Kindle Print On Demand is available there. Save on shipping fees. A mighty good deal.  promotional hashtag…. #losangelesflipsidefanzinetenyearanniversaryissue


For Sale Here…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1691716995


Only a new cover otherwise this is a replica of the original but better. The yellow patina is gone, and the pages are all straight. If you want it without all the fuss and facelift you can still purchase the squirrely eBook. It is cheaper.  This issue of Flipside was originally printed on newsprint, paper, so the pages did yellow with time.

I put a great deal of time into making this paperback into the sweet little punk rock number that it is. Some punks have told me that this was their punk rock bible. It is Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine issues one through fifty. A lot of punk voices. The integrity of what punk was at any time during the original punk rock scene is shared here.

 

Flipside Fanzine number 54 captures the continuity and real experience and thoughtful wild exuberant expression of many interesting individuals. It was a passion of mine to share in this documentation of a scene.  It still is which is why I continued over the years with this project to have a new handheld Flipside 54 for anyone who may want it. I think it is very special, in a punk kind of way,  I hope you will enjoy it too.

Within this paperback book is our history of the early punk rock scene. We at Flipside covered that scene thoroughly, what we wanted to cover that is. It is best you read the editorial included at the beginning of this paperback to get a real sense of who we were. Ten years of documenting a scene included in issues one through fifty is a great deal to read. A magnifying glass may be needed.

ISSUE #: 12

I always say the proof is in the pudding. Shift workers who worked on each issue are clearly defined in each issue. This is what I mean by proof.  Always a lot of hands in the cookie jar at the Flipside house. Suffice to say I’ll let this spectacular punk documentary speak for itself with a giant community of punk voices.

I recommend my memoir My Punkalullaby as a sidekick to this paperback book. Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine the Ten-Year Anniversary Issue (replica) is a punk rock opus and I am very proud of it.

I guess it was up to me to reprint it…

https://hudleyflipside.com/flipside-fanzine-staph-those-who-worked-on-los-angeles-flipside-fanzine-1979-to-1989/

Be More Than A Witness,

Hudley Flipside

The Seminary Of Praying Mantis Publishing

58E12F79-3500-4F71-9418-7E2A071C0622


 

The Nasty woman is me.

The Nasty Woman and the

Smörgåsbord of words and feelings… some very nasty…. like me.

“In his late works , he embodied these and other ills in the nightmare ridden figure of the cosmic giant Albion, or universal humanity, who has fallen in to deadly sleep of mundane existence. In humanity’s coma, the divine is a remote and forbidding sky-god: nature a sterile heap of atoms, lovers and family members, enemies; and one’s own innermost being, an unrecognized alien.” 

~Blake’s Poetry & Designs ` A Norton Critical Edition.

I realize I am being confrontational, nasty and outrageous. It is that two-week time as we move into the autumnal equinox. I hate this time of transition, but I love autumn.


Today I had to get gas on the way to where I was going. This local gas station charged me a 30 cents gas fee. Yet this is the normal way to skim the top and make a lot of money off millions of poor people. I remember when gas stations had attendants pour the gas, check the oil and fill the car tires. It was service with a smile.

I wish one of these monster gas companies would be brave and bring the service attendants back. They could collect the cash and we could give them the service charge… instead of a fucking machine.

Every time we take away a person’s job and replace them with a machine, we become less human.

I went into the mini-market and the cashier, who seemed to be acting as an employe,  knew nothing about the fee and said,

“I don’t know why you are asking about it. You are the only one that cares? No one else has asked about it.”

I looked at her silently and squarely.

“You should know about it and all the things around you here. I must pay a fee and it is dirty filthy outside around the gas tanks. I remember the day…”

A man came forward and interrupted our conversation and the cashier looked away.

“Excuse us,” I said. “We are talking.”

I used a figure to point to the cashier and me.

“Grumble, “said the man under his breath.

I left telling the cashier she should lose her job for not knowing anything.

Then I came home to find standing outside my home a strange older man smoking a cigarette.

“Are you waiting for someone,” I said.

“No.”

“Then why did you park here?”

The street had no other cars around. He then looked up at the tree. I then asked him to please move his car I needed to part our truck there. He seemed nice enough for not having a reason for being there besides smoking a cigarette. We talked back and forth.

“We have had issues with drug dealers around here,” I said.

He soon left and I moved the truck out. I know I was being ridiculous. I thought it strange that he would get out of his car with his cell home in hand to smoke a cigarette under our lovely olive tree. I did say to him.

“I don’t like the smell of cigarettes and I am sure the tree doesn’t either.”

I think upon a poem I wrote that I have changed a bit.

Any time of the year but now it is moving into the Autumn poem.

Green-gold olives

This eve
I take my broom
Last ray of sun is dead here …
it is real…

The shy clouds hide stars
Only the Moon, Jupiter and Saturn shine their breastplates.
Of radiant light…

I take my broom to the front of our home into the dustpan goes
Dry brown and yellow
Pointy olive leaves and hard green-gold olives…

Into the waste bin… away away.
Goes all the thoughts of this day
Of a wooing Crone…
Looking around as I sweep and bend

For any Fay to show their haunting ways 
In the clouds sailing on the night or
Upon the grasping arms of the olive tree. 
Queen of Elphame mocks me
As I move quickly and consistently,
I call her Sabrina…

How symbolic have I become?
Wild movement… yet strangely calm.
Sweet sweat dripping
My dusty perfume…

I do as many an old Crone
Sweeping clean the front of their home
At this transforming time.
Today I am a nasty one...

 

 

 

 

Get ready for a praying mantis punch…

Praying mantis shows me her story of life, death, and rebirth. For me she is an image or symbol of the divine in all things. I watch the praying mantis in my garden and have taken her image as my logo. She is an amazing little creature, and I relate to her connection to nature. We are both wild and part of this strange world. She is a part of my mythology as I am part of hers. Pg 7. ~Hudley Flipside, My Punkalullaby, The Seminary Of Praying Mantis

Paperback…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1687250707


 

Chi Chi Hawa Harmony



th (2)

Chato from Painted Woman / The Mustanger and the Lady (The Brandiron) ` Dusty Richards