“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
~ Jack Kerouac
I grew up during the 60s, 70s and 80s. I was 30 years old when I was bumped blindly into a world of a new education. Each generation I lived though, I loved. As a song, friend or lover, which in fact… all three generations supplied me with abundantly.
I fell into the late 70s punk scene blindly and without any ambition but the rebellious call of youth and ideology built on an underground scene. Yet what I witnessed in the 60s was wildness of a different rebellion. I miss the hitchhiker’s ways. People on the streets at every corner. I felt safe and awake.
Then as I have written before, the end of the 70s brought the multiple attacks of serial killers and we all pulled into ourselves. Now I drive by the many blocks where I grew up and see all the streets are empty. Cars and more cars blindly drive right through my memories of those street kids. They were just hanging and talking. They improvised life without any hand-held device. Only the feel of a hand.
I feel the need to move to a new place where there are no memories. I did it at the end of the 80s. I left to a place of no memories for a short time.
As a culture we have become so pulled into ourselves. I am guilty of this as well. I am not blind to what is going on yet, I am getting to old to do anything about it.
“The Greek poet Orpheus carried Willow branches as a symbol of the inspiration this sound gave.”
I pause outside as bee and lady bug fly around.
Sweet is the nectar from
lemon tree and lavender.
Letting go of worries and
desires that do not serve me now.
An old friend, a song, comes to mind
as my "leaves in the wind."
Perfect are old recorded songs
and the insect, flower and tree!
Somehow as I pause in breathing,
I am lost in this perfection.
The recurring of pause of being,
the repetition of listening to old songs
the heartfelt listening and watching nature,
Is my catalyst for artistic expression.
Never to let us down !!
Posted in "In the beginning there was a void except for the written word." The Avengers (Band)
Tagged Alternative music, Art, beauty, Daily Prompt, Goddess and Home, nature, poetry, postaday, punk rock music, spirituality, Women
“My Punkalullaby is incredibly brave journal about the early days of Flipside, High School, discovering Nirvana, and the LA punk scene. Many of the stories about the LA scene have been told repeated ad nauseam, but Hudley has a unique perspective on what happened and what it was like.”
~ Steve Hart, New Wave Chicken Magazine
Out today! Take off where the last one left off. The journey continues… this is the drugs and foolish love issue.
I AM BE !!
Set or Anubis on T-Shirt…. both are cool..
Baubo (Greek: Βαυβώ) is an old woman in Greek mythology who jested with Demeter, when Demeter was mourning the loss of her daughter, Persephone. She is also known as Iambe.
Current and new like the fresh fallen show or a baby’s behind…
ANother terrible and worthless piece of crap comic from the Flopside Bubblegum comic series…
Hitler as an Art Student…
A jerk that was willing to pose for a good cause… his words not mine…
It seems contrary that Venus goes retrograde
As Spring vividly approaches!
The underworld is spilling upwards
I’ve noticed shadows and illness
Addiction, handicaps, and depression.
My heart is hurt and overwhelmed.
Man at the parking lot asking for money
Young man in a wheelchair
As parents push him through the supermarket
his eyes deep in a world of despair.
I hold on to the pain as it washes over me with tears
Helpless tears of acknowledgment and power
As we walk through these dark times
To acknowledge it all with observing hearts
That hear and feel!
We help by our vibrations of
compassion, empathy and caring.
A silent prayer of hope,
So, the wounded can find a gentle joy
That pleasure brings
upon their vivid blood-red hearts.
She knows and she descends to us
the gift of her sweetness
for all times.
Walking with those that hold the lanterns
In the dark desending spiral into the underworld.
Light that eliminates the darkness
By acknowledgment, letting go.
As hearts grow in applied ways
This is our wisdom
A balm for our world…
Breast bending up
Chest falling down
And love will be found there too.
Venus on seashell, from the Casa di Venus, Pompeii. Before AD 79.
Posted in Holly Duval Cornell's Poems & Pose
Tagged beauty, current-events, Depth Psychology, Esoteric, Goddess and Home, nature, poetry, postaday, Venus Retorograde, Women, Writing
Trump wants more money but no words of “OUR NATION IS AT WAR”…. nothing new in the scheme of lies told by our presidents… at least this guy, Army General Tony Thomas commander of U.S. special operation forces, has the balls to tell the truth. Last year under Obama’s eye of fine etiquette and diplomacy, he silently bombed the hell out of other countries… and Trump is lying about it still. We at Flopside COmics oppose war and bombing other countries but we love the truth when we hear it!!
“Make whoopee the Marlon Brando way, not war the american way” ~ Mr. Shit (he has dementia but I think you get his drift…)
Volume One, number two of the Daily “FUCK” Gazette!
“etched into eternity” was trump’s real to honest words… I changed it! Let’s talk chaos theory boys !! ~ Mr. Fuck
Flopside Comics suck. Adult toilet paper humor!! Absurd, ridiculous, and nasty to the core.
Volume One, number one of the Daily “FUCK” Gazette!