N07h1ng 15 51mpl3

I just learned yet again: Nothing is Simple. Or in leetspeak: N07h1ng 15 51mpl3. (Leetspeak is short for “elite speak”: communication where a letters replace numbers or other characters. e.g.: “leet” in leetspeak is 1337).

But “N07h1ng 15 51mpl3″ is perhaps more positive than Nothing  is Simple backwards: Simple is Nothing.

OK: time to go back to work.

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+1

A positive (+) look on life this morning:

+1 = 1 year since my last post (50/20) which celebrated two important events – the most important being my 20th wedding anniversary. Continue reading

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50/20

50 years ago today John F. Kennedy challenged America to put a man on the moon within a decade. (Yes, I know: a man). And in 1969 it came to be, with a Giant Step for Mankind (Yes, I know. Man again). And the world view was forever changed. 20 years ago today, Julie married me. That was a Giant Step for Womankind; my world changed forever. 20 years later I am still over the Moon with happiness…

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clefts of reflection

between

romps, adventures, clatter

come as leafly rustles

Continue reading

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pohaku/wai

at first glance a wall

but a  visage lovelier

for weathered sculpture

 

beyond the surface

freshness – shadows and depth

beguile and confuse


Continue reading

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cross words on 2

In 1967 I worked part-time as a Special Effects helper on a  TV game show at the Beeb – the  BBC, or British Broadcasting Corporation – where I saw crosswords and heard cross words. Continue reading

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oozing hillsides

Today’s San Francisco Chronicle newspaper had a story on hillside failures in the San Francisco Bay town of Hercules: “Oozing Hillside Imperils Home“.  ”Oozing hillside” is a poetic way to describe “landslide”. Even more poetic is the explanation given by the reporter (attributed to the “associate city engineer”) for the cause of the ooze: Continue reading

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Jam, honey, bread, syncline

Browsing through the March pages in my 1986 diary, I found a tasty entry. I had just finished a horrible job at Bandar-e-Taheri,  on the Persian Gulf, in Iran. I was there to supervise drilling exploration for a proposed oil terminal. The job was horrible for several reasons, none of them due to being in Iran, or working with Iranians. Rather, it was a lot to do with working with some unlikeable ex-pats. And the food was dreadful. And I was sick (as was almost everybody in the construction camp, including the doctor) due to some mix-up between sewage water and drinking water… Continue reading

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blue:bicycles:red

 

blue me, wandering beside blue canal -

I  laugh at a hawsered laundry of

bicycles:

bicycles everywhere;  stacked, leaning, piled, jumbled in scrums

yet these two, almost kissing

a chaste synapse separating blue and

red:

red lights, not chaste, yet separated from me

by the synapse of canal and too little money

so: blue me

Amsterdam images, compressed into poesy, from vagabond visits in 1985 and 1986

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Trainspotting

“4-6-2!”.”4-4-4!” “Little sod! Bugger off!”. These  expressions  still chuff in my ears 50 or so years after I first heard them, as a  trainspotter.  Continue reading

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