Time movement

This is my winter solstice poem for 2021


Water drop in time. by Hudley Flipside 2021

There is something

Real and magical

Between a breeze

And the top of a

Pool of water

An in between language

A pattern of symbols

Mandalas, ancient texts

It gets talking so fast

I don’t understand it all.

Then Silence as is now.

I wait

Beginning again

A rich diplomatic dialogue

Transcendence

Old time ancient rhymes.

Spirit moved across the face of the waters still…

How it moves upon the face of my waters

This ancient

Rogue tongue….

Breathe it in …

A constant story

For us all

rebuilding

renewing

Inspiring life to unfold …

An in-between place

I wait for the elves …

The Fay move …

stretch and turn.

Ophiuchus

Chiron is a comet, planetoid, or asteroid which is the ruling planet of the zodiac sign Ophiuchus. It is found orbiting between Saturn and Uranus, but its orbit is quite erratic nature.

Asclepius Trained by Chiron

Rod of Asclepius, staff of Asclepius

The Serpent – entwined Rod (One)

Ophiuchus (November 30 – December 18th) 13hth constellation. Even today, the staff of Asclepius – the symbol of the world health organization pays tribute to the constellation Ophiuchus the Serpent Bearer.

In Mythology:

Ophiuchus was associated with Asclepius, the son of the God Apollo. He became a great healer – in part because of an encounter with a snake one day, he saw one snake and resurrected another laying some herbs on it. Zeus names him the serpent bearer.

Chiron:

As she (Koronis (coronis)) was being consumed on her funeral pyre, he (Apollon) snatched her baby (Asklepios, Asclepius) from the fire and took him to the Kentaros. Kheiron (Centaur Chiron) who was raised by him, taught him medicine, and hunting.

Sweet note: Some mistake the Caduceus two snakes and wings above with the one snake on the Rod. It is different. The Caduceus is associated with Mercury and Hermes Trismegistus.

Lyrics

There’s great danger (danger)
For the loneliest ranger in town
No silver bullets (bullets)
Tonto’s split the scene

Next week will solve your problems
But now, fish fingers all in a line
The milk bottles stand empty
Stay glued to your TV set (TV)

There’s great danger (danger)
At hand most caped crusader of all
No cloak of justice (justice)
Robin’s quit the scene

Next week will solve your problems
But now, fish fingers all in a line
The milk bottles stand empty
Stay glued to your TV set (TV)

Stay glued to your TV set
(TV) Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
(TV) Stay glued to your TV set
(TV) Oh, why, don’t ya, don’t ya, don’t ya?
(TV) Stay glued to your TV set (TV)
(TV) Stay glued to your TV set
(TV) Oh, why, don’t ya, don’t ya, don’t ya?
(TV) Stay glued to that and your TV set (TV)

Like ground up coffee grounds

Today I was looking at all the bullies in my life.

On Facebook I noticed a friend put up a thought. When she was young, she thought she was ugly. Now much older she realizes how lovely she really was. I am glad she found this out about herself.

I hang fabric up to cover half of my windows. I do this to enjoy the shadow and light on the fabric. When the window is open the fabric moves and I often see the texture and fun pattern within the fabric. As one lives a long life one can begin to see shadows, light, texture, and the pattern of one’s life. This is a wonderful ability I have acquired in my life. My insight is reflection the ability to see my life as a pattern with texture and light and shadows.

Elementary school there were two major bullies. Both I followed through what we called Jr. High and then High School. Lisa and Lori were the worst of the worst. They were pretty, popular, and mean to all those who were not part of their click, I always let their image of me influence my self-worth.

Now I know that it was not about me but about them. I do not believe them anymore.

Also, when I had my white mustang Sony, I found instead of everyone enjoying my bliss and best friend. Jealousy took hold and nasty gossip formed. The boy next door started the lies, and this gossip ran its course throughout Jr. High and High School. I cannot even imagine how pungently immoral the gossip was. The collective shadow of peers is a grandiose thing to have to deal with.


Now as a crone an older woman I can look back with a type of disconnection. I like myself now more than I ever have. These new positive feeling shine out and my libido is renewed with hope and creativity. Those old ways burn down and fly away into the underworld of no more.

Like ground up coffee grounds. Fragrant, recyclable and transformed. Soul soil for new possibilities.

Bob and Zachery, Grease lightning and the Green Sweater.

The Green Sweater

Living on the east coast in Rochester New York as a Home Health Aide was challenging work. I went into strange homes with new family customs that I had to learn and respect. I experienced diversity and listened to the stories of mostly older patients.

The family owned a Chinese restaurant. During the afternoon while the family was working, I took care of the matriarch. A mother who had a stroke. I did all I could to make her life as comfortable as I was trained to do. I collaborated with the nurses and physical therapist that visited once a week.

This lady was a rock on what she wanted. She would often hit me. I would let her know that was not appropriate. We would battle it out sometimes. Yet overall, I knew she liked me. I enjoyed her company too.

Her sons brought me a meal from their restaurant for lunch every day. I love Chinese food, so it was an incredibly special treat. Sweet and Sour Pork, lots of greens and noodles.

I was not use to the freezing weather and snow. Living on the west coast my whole life I found driving on black ice especially scary while driving to the home of this family who lived out in the country.

As the patient got better, she no longer needed my service. The day I left this strong woman gave me a gift. She would not take no for an answer and gave me a lovely Asian green sweater with lovely buttons. They were round and covered with a type of enamel with little designs.

I loved it and so when I traveled back home to California it was one of my prized possessions.

I ended up in Santa Cruz California. One night while I went out with my man, I had one too many Grease lightnings. The bartenders at the Poet and Patriate Pub were supplying us with many a pint. Bob and Zachery combined Amestein Lager with Guinness. We coined it “Grease lightning” because once served you had to power it down.

A big biker dude came up to my man and asked,

“Hey John why do you two power down your brews?”

John just smiled and then we walked over to play some darts.

On one of our many adventures playing darts with the local community of poets and patriots, or a few pirates, I got suckered into a conversation with an incredibly sad lady. She was cold on St Paddy’s Day and was not wearing green. I was wearing my green sweater, with green shirt and green shoes. I had plenty of green on. So, I said she could wear it a little while to warm up. The night went on and as I left to the lady’s room when I came back, she was gone and so was my lovely green sweater. I even told her my green sweater story story.

As we left that night to walk home, I heard one last song playing from the pub. One of my favorite Irish tunes. So, I danced the jig in the parking lot next to the pub. Then out of nowhere I swear a large Leprechaun danced awhile with me. We laughed and danced.

Around 1991 John and I sure did have some good nights at that local Pub in Santa Cruz. Wherever the green sweater is I hope whom ever has it is enjoying it’s beauty and warmth.

Cheers to Tito, books out @ Pre-orders…

1978- Los Angeles Flipside # 10 Photo Al Flipside.

“When you’ve jumped the fence into the bath

we will understand if you have the last laugh.

Just as things seem as they were before,

down with the field up with the air conditioner.”

~GBH Forbidden Zone.


Before we got our new fence it was a forbidden zone for our cats. The fence had holes and was leaning over into the neighbor’s yard. To make a long story short we decided to just go ahead and fix it with a new fence…

“A flash of lightning. Dionysus becomes visible in emerald beauty.”

~ Pg. 65 Dithyrambs of Dionysus / Friedrich Nietzsche  

No longer a forbidden zone, it once was a dark night when the rains came with lightning and took our Football kitty away from us. Was it the hole in the fence and the neighbor’s German Shepherd? Was it the nasty drug dealer now gone due to the dumb bloke being taken away by the police? Or was it an alien mutation … it sure looked like one. If you do not know what I mean look it up? Finally, it could have been the other side fence that is also now new. It was replaced a couple of years ago. A jump over by local twister trickster coyote? Coyote told me this,

“Nope not me.”

What was once a forbidden zone is not forbidden anymore.

This autumn has its forbidden zones. I must be honest my once explored forbidden zones have become zones of good fruits of wonder.

I am turned on because a hearty harvest has come in. It feels good. Here are some projects I’ve been part of. Here is the harvest…

Where The Wild Gigs Were –~ Tim Hinely & Friends, HoZac Books.

https://hozacrecords.com/where-the-wild-gigs-were/?fbclid=IwAR0UFeZvrMwWWWWDJcrgfMkPDgw8Y6MSyEwQ_M8wU1rkLoZfGA95uJPZqZg


New Wave Chicken, Steve Hart, Art Issue, Fluke Publishing,

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https://fluke.bigcartel.com/product/new-wave-chicken-9

FORBIDDEN BEATS S.W. Lauden, out on Rare Bird Books.

I must say the “wheeling and dealing” is fun and sometimes hope filled activating. A learning experience. Contributing in a new way I am like our new red western cedar dog ear fence.

I am shining from the inside out.

The back door man is not someone I deal with … it is all up and up now.

It is amazing when a major film company takes the time to mail you an original designed t-shirt. It feels nice to be valued and treated with respect.

So, the new fence got some dirt, mulch and a couple of lavender plants.


Universal Pictures Feature Production, Universal Pictures is in production on a theatrical horror motion picture by Jordan Peele (Get Out, Us).


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Tito Larriva Los Plugs. Oct/8/2021 Origin ID-AHCA Alex Bovaird t-shirt.

Day before Autumn Poem…

A fluff Faerie

The autumnal equinox is tonight.

I feel like I cleaned some stuff up.

Today I hear ringing in my ears.

 I don’t mind much. I feel something in the air.

I think through generations of life lived.

I opened my art closet.

I let it air out.

The cats are curious right away.

Me I am not so curious.

So much time, creativity,

and options of delight, yet not today.

I feel like it needs to be a rainy day.

Every item in my art closet has a story.

Inspirational hopes.

A magic place that turns my imagination into projects.

I sit waiting for I don’t know what…


Innocuous Surreal-intrinsic

One of the three sister goddesses known as the three Graces who are the givers of charm and beauty in Greek mythology…. I call upon her now…. we need real beauty….,

You may think the story I am about to tell you is a bizarre story, but it is real, we are living it… yes now… it is redundant.

I have foresight. It means I can see things. The Covid-19 and all variants are not what you may think. It lives and expands through our bodies. Spreading from human to human …

If you could see it like I can, I encourage you to change your mind about things. If you are playing it safe, you will understand that what you are doing is for the common good of all human beings.

From another realm the Covid-19 virus is like a vast spider’s web. It takes and expands. It goes around and around. Humans are just a source of temporary expanding blissful glory of this multidimensional expanding life force.

It hovers and attacks those who are unaware and stupid. It can read minds and goes after those who play this death game. Some humans are in on it. They think they have control, and they want other people to die. It is a form of mass hysteria of denial that the virus picks up on. It is not stupid. It wants to survive. Until the very end.    

I can see it. My foresight tells me to tell people to beware, be careful… yet they play a lost game of denial, ignorance, and defiance. They tease it. This only makes it hungrier. The common good of humanity is not their concern.

I wait and watch from my cave. Deep grieving I feel.  I see it all from my electrical fire. I see the variant spreading. A dancing organismic virus web going around and around… and every time I see it from a distance, it sees me very aware.

I give it the finger because mine is cleaned and watched, my mask is on and I social distance. That is the one thing this creepy multidimensional monster hates.

I hope you know what this vast nympho wants… close together people, human beings who sweat on each other, jumping up and down against each other. It is a nightmare, Surreal-intrinsic… and all I can do is watch from a distance.

Innocuous in my cave around the electrical fire, for now… what a real sickness I see…

The beauty of a flower and a bee.

From my garden

A Summer Poem

By Hudley Flipside : An Underground Bard


So much given to us for free

All of creation

Watch the flowers open up

To share nectar to the bees, butterflies, bumblebees

The hungry hummingbirds.

In return pollination.

A free giving cycle…

We humans are as flowers,

We can open our psyches

Give out our creative soul nectar

Out into the world

And in return get pollinated

There are the invisible makings of nature

As there are the invisible happenings in a human being…

How accidentally nature shows us this beauty

From our living gardens.

We look out and there it is

Sharing, sharing, and giving

Life vast and beyond.

Following the motif of

The simple flower.

Clouds that hold moister

Then rains upon the earth

A summer overcast day

That cools the dry dirt.

The open window that shares

This active beauty from tall trees overhead

And above me.

A song that inspires us to be

Loving and understanding

The beauty of a flower and a bee.

A Call to Narrative Flipside Fanzine Poem

Creation

My creative dream

Of challenging work and dedication

Is dissected over the electric fire.

Let it go but

Sometimes I gather it around me

The memories, bands, and friendships

To tell a story…

We were more than

archives of words and images

now history

once a living reality.

A modern-day folktale

That has a dance

And songs and stories

Of myths and some say

Legends.

A curse to me because

It will not let me go

Created then sold and shared

Brought tighter and tangled

Its web around me

Around us that remember.

More than dust on a fanzine

It is more than an image

Of rebellious youth….

Piping songs of pleasant glee with the Moody Blues and Charged GBH

Tralfamadorians watercolor by Hudley

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The fabric of prophet’s ages old

Drones on and gathers mould

Gets a weekly airing from a fool on high

Who talks and talks till his throat’s dry

The Prayer of a Realist

GBH ~ City Baby Attacked by Rats

I awoke to an amber moment this morning swirling in my mind and like Kurt Vonnegut’s character Billy Pilgrim from the novel Slaughterhouse-Five, I like to dwell and investigate these moments of experience. See if some golden truth is pushing itself up from my unconsciousness to my consciousness. It may be similar as a grain of sand irritating an oyster some wonderous pearl. Maybe only linking up a few different generations of people or friends like butterflies taking their nectar from the same sunflower. Is it all randomly placed in time … maybe not? In truth I do not think so. Which gets an old dame to pondering.

Two bands from Birmingham, a major city in England’s West Midlands, brought forth two of my favorite bands. Each band speaks and supports a different generation. The members of the band walked the same streets and know the smell of their home. Mothers (music venue) lingers in both of their memories.

The Moody Blues and Charged GBH were playing the same week. One at the Greek theater and the other at the Roxy Theatre (West Hollywood). They both touched down on southern Californian soil. It was revelatory to me. Just the fact that they were both playing the same week was enough to satisfy my glowing and rebellious soul.

Was this a random happening or is there more to the story. What is the possibility of this happening and did anyone else notice this random act of Birmingham music? A mist joining two generations of music ached in my inner being of light and dark particles and both danced and started vibrating to a strange tune.

It was a contrary experience for me. I got two tickets for the Moody Blues. I bugged Ross to be on the guest list at the Roxy. This was going to happen … I felt it when they both touched Los Angeles county. I think the best feelings are when waiting for a band to play while they are touring. The element of music and surprise and favorite songs playing is a revolutionary experience… even if I am the only one feeling this.

It was so intense that coming week. It was like when I found out that my great Grandfather was born in Middlesex a historic county in southeast England. It was a big deal for me because William Blake also was raised there as a child, they both walked the same streets at one time. Both sharing the smell of their home. Though I never met either my great grandfather or William Blake they both left me with stories and share in that pleasurable place of my good imagination.  

“Piping down the valleys wild

Piping songs of pleasant glee,

On a cloud I saw a child,

And he laughing said to me:

‘Pipe a song about a Lamb’…”

The “Song of Innocence,” ~ William Blake.

On Sunset. May 2015.. also I am wearing my Bernie Sanders T-Shirt for president 2016…

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Husband was not able to attend the Moody Blues with me. I could not find another at such short time to go with me. I was not strong enough to attend myself. The parking, crowds, and elements of being alone did not appeal to my nature at the time. Maybe in younger years I would have taken on the challenge by myself. I do regret not going.

We hit my old romping punker ground on Sunset. The streets and the alleys of friends, clubs and running wild in the streets. It was different now. Husband and I had a pizza and then a couple of beers at the Rainbow Bar and Grill. When we got to the Roxy, I found I was not on the guess list and the show was sold out. Since it was a Goldenvoice event, I spied Gary Tovar and he got us in the show. There I found Ross Lomas hanging out with Dora Sundoval and Alison Elliott.

Ross: You must have been bumped off the list.

Hudley: Do not worry Gary got us in.

Giving Ross a big hug around his waist I said.

“It is so good to be back and walk the streets of my youth as a wild young punk.”

Ross gave me a look and that was the last time I talked to him.

The aroma of the event was exhilarating but filled with smoke. Husband had a major asthma attack and we had to leave early. The good news is I met up with some punk chicks from a younger generation. We had met up at other shows. The continuity of them going to see GBH made me happy. I’d have to say I think the band most likely prefer these beauties then the old punker I’ve become.

There are times in life when one must pursue a dream. Run to it and become one with it. Other times one needs to step back and let it happen without you. I read about the Moody Blues in the news after their event. I saw the pictures posted on Facebook backstage with GBH. It irritated me a little but not too much. I made the effort, yet I guess the random act was not complete. At least I can write about it and share my memories.

What would the Tralfamadorians say?

“There is no beginning, no middle, no end, no suspense, no moral, no causes, no effects. What we love in our books are the depths of many marvelous moments seen all at one time.”

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