Tag Archives: The Seminary of Pryaing Mantis

Proud Punker Publisher

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Original Cover 

It is the direction and not the magnitude which is to be taken into consideration. ~Thomas Paine

Today May 17 2016 is when I am finally coming out with my first Journal. A 40-page journal. This journal is based on my memoirs entitled The Seminary of Praying Mantis, My Punkalullaby. A D.I.Y project which rides the wave of punk rock nostalgia. I will continue to come out with these journals until the original written book is complete. Since my publication of poetry books, and my work on New Wave Chicken ‘Zine (and the reforming of the Misfits), my libido has increased. The first journal will be for sale soon. Consider this a little complementary journal to go along with the BIG PUNK ROCK books out there. Linking hands with the underground story to give the reader a brighter picture of punk rock diversity. A new look at the Los Angeles punk rock scene. This journal is a behind the scenes story of punk rock. A wrench in the machinery kind of journal movement.  Sorry no big beautiful pictures artfully done. Just a few words.

Honest and reflective…

Early Los Angeles Punk Rock Scene… 1979 -1989

Remember… To Be More Than A Witness…

Flipside Fanzine Poster


One – four… new covers and more added and edited…

https://hudleyflipside.com/the-seminary-of-praying-mantis-presents-once-more-my-punkalullaby-1-4/


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Hudley member and  wearing original Fiend Club T-SHIRT


obscurity-absurdity

How can we tell the world who we really are if we mask our wisdom, our soul,  and ourselves behind plastic faces of obscurity-absurdity?

The limousine drove up and parked near the vegetable produce store. It was a cold morning and the mist from storm drains, coffees shops and exhausts merged and played in the air. A round woman was bending over some tomatoes and grabbed one to put in her cart. At that time her head-dress fell exposing her face and grey hair. She must have been about seventy years old.  The man in the limousine saw her before. It was part of his routine to park and look at her in the morning. This was her routine too, yet she looked different to him of course. He sensed it and today he saw it as he thought to himself,

“Women today never age past thirty. Plastic surgery is as common as buying toilet paper. Why is she not young-looking as well?”

He was intrigued with this woman who held herself with such natural grace and wisdom. Her deep purple head-dress highlighted the grey in her hair. Today he got out of his dark car and walked over near to her.

“Yes the tomatoes look fresh today!”

“Yes,” she said with a firm look in her eyes.

He then noticed the wrinkles forming around her eyes and mouth, and as they continued to talk her words and facial expressions showed so much wisdom. He thought to himself,

“I can see that every wrinkly has an echo of many laughs and tears. Her experience from living life shows on her face. This is refreshing and honest. I think I will ask her for a ride in my car.”

“Not today but maybe tomorrow.”

This went on for a few weeks until the day when she said yes. They spent the day driving around the city in his cool limousine. He offered her pink champagne and in return she told him why.

“I am not like other women, I know. I will tell you why. As our culture became more and more obsessed with beauty, I became more and more withdrawn. I had a wild tomato plant growing near a drainage ditch near the end of my small backyard in the city. Throughout the year I watched it grow; from blossoms, fruit and then towards slow decay. I’ve learned to appreciate life cycles of the tomatoes plant and of nature in general. This is the wisdom it shared to me!

He held her softy and listened.

“How can we tell the world who we really are if we mask our wisdom, our soul, and ourselves behind plastic faces of obscurity-absurdity?”

And so the two of them found a small room in the city and grew old together. Keeping to themselves and growing a small little garden with herbs, flowers and of course tomatoes.

The End

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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/12/writing-challenge-health/