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Resisting the desire for a new phone in the name of conservation.

What was I thinking? My new phone had two faults and I am returning it now for a refund. However, during this period I have been battling with the thing, adding apps, taking them off. Also, all my political poems always complain about "getting a new phone" as the world seems to be locked into this crazy cycle (among many other decadent landfill items). I have reverted to my old phone which will only die as the app makers stop supporting it. So I realise I am bending to pressure to have to have a new phone, and for what? Complete stress for these stupid apps that I realise, I don't actually want, and a nasty battery to poison the planet. I guess I have to suppress my inner geek for new stuff and turn it to preserving old stuff again. Much more in line with my conservation desires! It's not easy being green!!


Straight out of Woolwich (poem)

Straight out of Woolwich you and I walk out to the Thames bank the coffee shop had pumped us with caffeine for us to observe the water boats, birds, the ferry across the bank a park green oasis the sugar factory up the river industry down our phones are quiet and we chat about the river about the boats about lost loves we walk easily towards the ferry soon the over half a century year old boat rumbles around us as we sit on the wooden benches it repeats the journey across a worn furrow in the water as it has done thousands of times as many others will do this journey, repeated not you and I but others and others many many times, again and again

I am a: INFJ (Myers Briggs)

I just did the Humanmetrics Jung Typology Test (Myers Briggs) a second time via a different website:
https://www.16personalities.com/infj-personality
and the result is the same, I am a: INFJ
Individual traits: Introverted – 75%, Intuitive – 66%, Feeling – 69%, Judging – 58%, Assertive – 58%
Role: Diplomat
Strategy: Confident Individualism

Big train - Virginia Plain

Big train - Virginia Plain, Roxy Music cover
I know I've posted this several times but I just can never get over how funny it is: 

Deja vu at the British Museum.

Today at the British Museum I saw some art I'd seen before.

Greek Geometrical art

A freeze


Where had I seen this before? In a South American Mexican tribal art book! Then it got here:



Nice pic of the museum for you:




Off to write at Royal Festival Hall

Off to write at Royal Festival Hall:
https://youtu.be/xmAJy2cXTt4
And the view, slower this time :
https://youtu.be/L-jJb-RMJzw

2 Visits Over 3 Days To A Nuclear Bunker In A Forgotten Zombie Park & 5p Down (creative non-fiction)

Monday 16th Jan 2017
To save time and energy, rather than walk, he takes the Docklands Light Railway from Cyprus Station to Canning Town and changes for Woolwich Arsenal via London City Airport. The Silvertown stop slips by, and he gets off at Pontoon Dock, a high concrete station with a quick ramp into the Thames Barrier Park.
As he rounds the corner of the high hedge, into the wide dew soaked grass park, disappointment strikes. The café is closed. The metal shutters on the oblong building are all down, making it look like a nuclear bunker.
As a recompense, he walks to the end of the park, and the edge of the Thames. Ahead the silver towers of the Thames Barrier stick up like capped canines. He surveys the empty water and the flocks of screeching seagulls.
Then, turning for home, walks back to Cyprus, but half way there gives up and boards the D.L.R. at Royal Albert, blowing £1.50 to cut out two stops and a bunch of walking.
Wednesday 18th Jan 2017
Rounding the corner of the hedge, he feels jubilant that the nuclear bunker is now a café. Behind is the same journey on the D.L.R. However, this time he had cocked up, and waited on the wrong platform at Canning Town for 10 minutes, as two trains went by on a different platform.
He passes through the automatic doors of the café and turns sharp right into the newly refurbished toilets. A very clean and bright, plush place to relive one’s bladder.
Back in to dog eared entrance hall he walks into the café. The owner is sweeping worn wooden floors. He is surprised to be serving anyone at that time in the early 10:30 am morning.
“You want coffee?” he asks.
“Er, yes please.”
The owner, a tall black man, in smart, but worn shirt and trousers, makes his way behind the smart, but worn, counter. The man requests a small cappuccino with no chocolate. The owner makes this and delivers it in a mug. The £1.95 coffee receives £3 change from a new style fiver. The man looks briefly at the carrot cake for £2.50, next to the note sellotaped to the counter: “please to not place your children on the counter” and decides against this decadent feast, already 5p down that day.
“Thanks,” he says and picks up his mug and supplied napkin, possibly a 5p napkin.
He makes his way to the low comfy, but worn, chair. Removes his coat, woolly hat and woolly gloves and sits down, his coffee is on the low, but worn, table. The owner resumes sweeping, as exuberant classical music wines out, trying to do battle with the refrigeration sound coming from the bank of chilling units arranged along the left side glass wall. The owner, presumably, has put this music on to motivate his sweeping.
From behind comes the sound of people entering to use the public toilet, but no one comes into the café. The man sips his coffee and gazes out of the glass walls ahead and to his right. Beyond the decking, with tables and chairs, the broken ones stashed up ahead, is the dew soaked grass and bare trees, framing the silver metal tusks of the Thames Barrier towers. On the grass dog walkers stalk like zombies, and group together in hunting packs; and the dogs pack together in order to sniff each other and their excretions. Crows and seagulls get on with their jobs of, whatever crows and seagulls do.
The man sits with his mobile, texting, or sexting; and the owner returns to the counter in order to tidy up and listen to Radio 4. As the froth goes down in his mug, the man discovers the text on the rim: “deliciously refreshing” which is nice to know, as the text on the outside says: “Natural Speciality aroma” which, he feels, gives little away as to the nutty beverage.
            The combined din of classical music, refrigeration, talk radio and toilet usage, soon persuades the man to finish his coffee, and depart to walk home, in order to save £1.50 on train fairs, as being 5p down he’s not feeling too flush right now.


Ead’s Invisible Bin Spaceship



Ead pressed the buttons of his spaceship and brought it into land at Trafalgar Square. It was 1pm in the afternoon on a Saturday.
            No one saw the spaceship land as he had cloaked it. All that happened was that a bin appeared in Trafalgar Square. However, Ead had been even more careful and decided to make the spaceship invisible. Therefore, an invisible bin arrived in Trafalgar Square but did not appear, as much as, failed to add to the number of bins.

Jade was standing near the landing site of the invisible bin/spaceship. She certainly felt something but with the lack of actual – bin, she put it down to having had one too many coffees. Then when a man appeared from nowhere, she could only assume this was perfectly normal for someone as wired as her.
            The man looked at her with, well, complete lust. She just knew that the dress was too skimpy but it had been so hot that morning.
            “Hello earth woman,” said Ead. “My name is Ead. Error 451…”
            Jade never talked to funny men, especially with funny accents. She tugged the dress around the bust in order to hide them a bit but she felt the hem rise up her leg. Her plan had backfired and she now felt quite creeped out. She decided to walk away but found that she was unable to.

Ead congratulated himself on having packed his mobile tractor beam. It worked as well on this human as it had worked on the giant Bastardaril warship he had encountered on the way to earth. Now it would hold the human until he could get his translator back online. The human was struggling.

Scot was prowling around the square when he saw a pretty girl with great legs struggling to get away from a weird guy. Scot was never one to pass a damsel in distress. He ran over to them and called to the girl.
            “He troublin’ you babe?”
            “I want him to go away,” she shrieked.
            Scot landed his best right hook on the funny man. The funny man went over backwards. The girl virtually leaped into Scot’s arms. Scot took this as a good sign and made away from the man holding her hand.
            They ran for a few blocks out towards St James’s Park. Scot felt very manly that day.

Jade had felt the tractor beam loosen its grip, and as she had been struggling to free herself, was flung towards the muscly man wearing shorts. She collided with his sweaty torso. Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and tugged her off to St James’s Park. After the effects of the tractor beam she felt helplessly pulled along.
            When they got to the park, the man stopped tugging her but failed to let go of her hand. He turned to her.
            “Lucky I was there darlin’”
            He leered towards her, his other hand came up and touched her leg, pulling at the hem. She could feel fresh air where it should not have been. The muscle man bought his face close to hers and his tongue lolled out, then he pitched forward and placed his face in her cleavage. For some reason he then slumped to the floor and passed out.
            She looked up and standing before her was the other weird man. She wondered if the day could get any worse.

When Ead was punched, he went over backwards and the tractor beam generator flew out of his hand. However, it did put the translator unit online. When the stars stopped floating around his head, he saw the woman being tugged away. He got unsteadily up and followed. When they got to the park, the man started to do things to the woman that were unacceptable by Ead’s standards. Ead fired a stun bolt into the man and he slumped forward and then to the floor.
            “Sorry,” he said to the woman, “English not good, that not a nice man.” He pointed at Scot. “Please, can you tell me the way to Tesco? I’m starving.”


This is from my book: Project Icarus and Other Stories

Siem Moxie and Atlantic Enterprise windfarm ships! none of your old oil exploration here!

Siem Moxie and Atlantic Enterprise windfarm ships


None of your old oil exploration here! Looks like something from Dispicable Me.
These were taken at the Royal Docks in London.

Siem Moxie
Siem Moxie
Atlantic Enterprise
Atlantic Enterprise

DJ/Musician returning to my hobby drawer

I'm removing DJ/Musician from my list of professional interests. Sticking to #webdesign and #writing for now. I've had a great time with the music and gigging in London and Goa but the money is awful. Turning it back into a hobby again. #Conservation is still the core value behind all that I do.

School of Electronic Moby Dicks

This may seem an odd poem. I was asked to do it for my degree. We took our degree guide, which has information, critical text and poems in it. I took a line from different pages starting from the cover and working through. In other words, these words are the words of others!



School of Electronic Moby Dicks
1.      School of 
2.      the module
3.      way to get the most out of
4.      signature sheet
5.      specified in the module
6.      electronic card reader,
7.      hard copy:
8.      critical
9.      Moby Dick.
10.  This short book
11.  lacked strength to overcome his anxiety
12.  in which that life-cycle is enacted
13.  condemned to just this unwisdom;
14.  characteristic work.
15.  Systemic chemicals,
16.  last evening we went dancing and
17.  walking naked
18.  by this distant northern sea
19.  clash by night
20.  like the folds of a great shining used condom
21.  my wife
22.  Random
23.  Ebony fish
24.  in hell’s mirror
25.  plum bossoms
26.  from where
27.  in this world
28.  tiny blue hands and green arms
29.  went looking for a new house.
30.  McClure
31.  shits on the
32.  spider web,
33.  on the pink petals,
34.  while crickets sing
35.  and go in and kiss them
36.  with a dark brown moustache
37.  looking like a man
38.  in the form of boobs
39.  My nipples when he kissed them
40.  over two pizzas
41.  have yet to know what love is
42.  frigid at the kitchen table
43.  so my breasts
44.  gently fucked
45.  in the heady days leading up to
46.  its Paris premiere,
47.  billboards, signs and murals
48.  and her bloodstained women
49.  pointing to each
50.  gas chamber