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My Silent Undoing
my silent undoing
my silent undoing
my silent undoing
my silent undoing
my wasp in a jar
protruding hips
and skull, and spine
ribcage cuts a clear outline
oh, oh
all roped up and pinching in
distorted and disfiguring
oh, oh
my silent undoing
my silent undoing
my wasp in a jar
no photographs around the back
emaciated, iron flat
oh, oh
dehydrated cutting bones
today i'm over 7 stone
oh, oh
my wasp in a jar
my wasp in a jar
my wasp in a jar
twinkle little star
my wasp in a jar.
song performed by by Queen Adreena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Nest of Wasps
Closing the garage door
a wasp was flying past my head
but strangely it didn’t come for me
and for the first time
I saw a nest on the door
where there were plenty more,
some more small red stinging wasps.
At first I thought that the nest
was empty and when I reach for it
six more wasps flew past my head
and I drew my hand back instead.
By careful inspection
I saw many more wasps
sitting at the back of the nest
and these pests
were sure to sting somebody
time and time again,
but why they were avoiding me
I still do not know.
I couldn’t leave the nest there
and had to get them all dead
and yet somehow I pitied it
and which I could just instead
let them be.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Anger is as a stone cast into a wasp's nest.
quote by Pope Paul VI
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wasp
The wasp and all his numerous family
I look upon as a major calamity.
He throws open his nest with prodigality,
But I distrust his waspitality.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Robbin Tree
The Robin begins to build her nest
in the gnarled tree;
the twigs are twisted;
the branches lack leaves;
and the nest is exposed
offering no shelter.
She puts another twig
into the tree fork;
but it falls to the ground.
She looks away west
and leaves.
Her wings
flapping
out a message:
Nature is abandoning us.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Build Your Nest
Build yo' nest
Build yo' nest
Build yo' nest
Build yo' nest on tenderness
The nest is yo' home and launcin' pad
Vibes ain't good gotcha' feelin' sad
Build yo' nest on love that tells it all
Gives you the strength to walk mighty tall
With a song in yo' heart most every day
song performed by by Earth Wind & Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wasps!
I’m walking home, along the road,
Carrying my shopping; a heavy load.
I hear a buzzing sound right by my ear,
And my whole body fills with fear.
Without even looking, I know what is there.
I’m afraid that it will get caught in my hair.
I stand there stock still and totally freeze;
I’m terrified of wasps, but don’t mind bees.
A frown appears upon my face and I pray,
That this worrying wasp, will soon go way.
Soon, he loses interest and gets off my case,
But, even so, I purposefully quicken my pace.
The wasp disappears and I’m on my own again,
Thankful that, on me, he didn’t inflict any pain.
To date, I’ve been lucky and haven’t been stung,
But I’m so totally dreading my first ever one.
Freezing on the spot has worked for me so far,
And has managed to keep me from any harm.
When a wasp approaches, my shoulders hunch.
Needless to say, I’m not a fan of ‘al fresco’ lunch!
Some people wave their arms and go ‘shoo! ’
But, I know this is the worst thing they can do.
Of wasps, I’ve always been so totally terrified,
And it’s a fear, which is extremely hard to hide.
A wilful wasp flying around in search of food,
Can, in a heartbeat, suddenly change my mood.
Bees, unlike wasps, are useful and earn their worth,
But what is the actual purpose of wasps on the earth?
They just annoy people to the point of distraction;
Where there’s a wasp, there’s often some action!
I’m really not their biggest fan, and I really think
I’d be more than happy, if they became extinct!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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King Is White And In The Crowd
Talking by the pool of light, language from Americ.
a
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
They are not a melting pot, say no, say no tapestry
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
She takes his hand and she says you'll stay
She's lost in the crowd
King
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Lovers run camp Africa, Bars in town are civilised
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
Panorama, Citylife
Youth's dance proud from the waist down
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
Shot from where the action is, a rhapsody in black and blue
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
Love lies under western eyes, powerful yet transient
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freaks Of Nature
Freak of nature fact or fright
Puts up with pain puts up with spite
Scarred up shoes have lost their sheen
It looks like better days they've seen
Chameleon man naive tycoon
Will eat the poor with silver spoon
He'll jest and jeer through looking glass
But nest right near the upper class
Who'll be the first one pointing at the simple man
Now I know I'm only lucky every freak of nature should know
How to run the whole freakin' show
Freak of nature'd rather be no less a man than you or me
He'd rather look the other way choose to fight another day
I take things for granted turn the tables 'round
What if I was down
To much goin' on runnin' out of time
And I don't understand it
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the white collar
In the white collar
Of the lowly sparrow
Puts me to mind of the priest
And the flying nun
I use to watch on b & w t v
T V outs me to mind
Patty Duke
And the twins
My sister and brother
Family raised in a cruel year
My brother puts me to mind
Of the men I call family
The gays met at the bar
The bar puts me to mind
Of the men I took home
Just for once for a night of joy
Joy puts me to mind
Of the time I expressed with setime puts me to mind
That now I am old
And self assured
In the way I go.
poem by David E. Patton
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Lime Tree Arbour
The boatman calls from the lake
A lone dives upon the water
I put my hand over hers
Down in the lime tree arbour
The wind in the trees is whispering
Whispering low that I love her
She puts her hand over mine
Down in the lime tree arbour
Through every breath that I breathe
And every place I go
There is a hand that protects me
And I do love her so
There will always be suffering
It flows through life like water
I put my hand over hers
Down in the lime tree arbour
The boatman he has gone
And the loons have flown for cover
She puts her hand over mine
Down in the lime tree arbour
Through every word that I speak
And every thing I know
There is hand that protects me
And I do love her so
song performed by by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds from The Boatman's Call
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Is White & In The Crowd
Talking by the pool of light, language from america.
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
They are not a melting pot, say no, say no tapestry
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
She takes his hand and she says youll stay
Shes lost in the crowd
King
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Lovers run camp africa, bars in town are civilised
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Panorama, citylife
Youths dance proud from the waist down
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Shot from where the action is, a rhapsody in black and blue
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Love lies under western eyes, powerful yet transient
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Words & music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 7
The first streaks for dawn
broke across the Wye Valley.
The Armoured Flamethrowers were poised
around the giant wasps nest.
Just as the sky began to lighten,
pushing away the darkness of the night
the first wasp climbed from the nest.
Long spouts of flame poured over it.
As its body was engulfed in flame
out of the nest, more wasps swarmed.
Suddenly the sky darkened again.
Several RAF bases were scrambled.
Spitfires and Hurricanes crowded the skies.
This time the enemy
was not the Luftwaffe, but insects.
The pilots where not sure what tactics
they were to use
or how the insects were going to react.
They swooped low down the valley
just skimming the treetops.
Then suddenly they were confronted with the enemy.
They peeled off in different directions choosing a target.
The manoeuvrability of the insects was unexpected.
They swerved, dived, hovered
and even seem to reverse.
Several tried to sting the aircrafts.
As more and more the wasps were shot down,
more replaced them.
Several of the aircraft crashed
as more than one wasp landed on them.
Spouts of fames stretched into the sky
from the flamethrowers below.
A second wave of aircraft
flew into the affray,
they seemed to be swarmed by wasps.
Several of the pilots few upwards
drawing a number of the wasps with them.
Aircraft and wasps darted around
the crowed sky in arial combat never before witnessed.
Hundreds of wasps fell from the sky
and were quickly replaced by hundreds more.
As the aircraft began running short of fuel,
they few away from the fight
and others were brought in.
On the ground, the Armoured Flamethrowers
were being attacked as well.
The wasps crawled over the machines
trying to find a way in.
Smoke began to rise from the nest
as more and more wasps lifted into the air.
Quite a number were met
by long stems of flames that engulfed their bodies.
Several with their bodies still alight rose
and smashed into oncoming aircraft
and both plummeted to the ground.
A black cloud from the burning
nest and corpses of the insects rose high above the valley.
Hour after hour, they fought
before the number of wasps decreased.
After six hours, the fight was over.
Bodies of wasps littered the fields
where cattle once grazed.
The RAF flew the length and breath of the valley
to ensure that there were no surviving giant wasps.
Soldiers with flamethrowers walked over the fields
burning every wasp they came across.
None was to be left alive.
The nest had a constant jet of flame poured into it.
When ever it seemed that the fames was going out
gallons of petrol was tipped down the hole of the nest
and the flamethrowers ignited it.
All through the night
and late into the following day
the process was kept up.
They could not afford a
ny eggs or any of the queens to survive.
Finally, it was over.
The charred remains of the wasp’s corpses
were buried in deep pit.
A week after the battle was over
only small scars on the landscape were noticeable.
A year later there were no traces
of what had happened there in the summer of 1945
and life in the Wye Valley returned to normal.
Professor Hogarth sat in his favourite chair
and watched his garden begin to grow again.
Several times, he could have sworn
he thought he saw shadows.
He put them down to his imagination.
The end.
Author’s note:
Although this has been, a work of fiction of which he hopes the readers has derived some pleasure in reading. I wish to leave everyone with this thought. As the world is increasing yearly in population. More and more plants are being genetically modified to increase crop yields. As insects feed off plants and other insects feed off them. One can never tell if the genetic structure of those insects will, itself be modified. We know that it takes generations for species to mutate. What we do not know is whether they are mutating now somewhere in the world. Which leaves us with the question. What if?
David Verdun Harris
6 November 2007
poem by David Harris
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Kindness to Insects
I saw a Melancholy Wasp
Upon a Purple Clover Knosp,
Who wept, 'The Poets do me Wrong,
Excluding me from Noble Song-
Though Pure am I and Wholly Crimeless-
Because, they say, my Name is Rhymeless!
Oh, had I but been born a Bee,
With Heaps of Words to Rhyme with me,
I should not want for Panegyrics
In Sonnets, Epics, Odes and Lyrics!
Will no one free me from the Curse
That bars my Race from Lofty Verse?'
'My Friend, that Little Thing I'll care for
At once,' said I- and that is wherefore
So tenderly I set that Wasp
Upon a Purple Clover Knosp.
poem by Arthur Guiterman
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Build Your Nest
Maurice white & verdine white
Build yo nest
Build yo nest
Build yo nest
Build yo nest on tenderness
The nest is yo home and launcin pad
Vibes aint good gotcha feelin sad
Build yo nest on love that tells it all
Gives you the strength to walk mighty tall
With a song in yo heart most every day,
Is what you need along the way
Things get rough, pain comes around
Put up yo dukes, knock it to the ground
If it get back up, do it over again
Smack it hard on its chinny-chin-chin
Now things around you cant do you no wrong
Think about love in yo happy home
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Escape
Tree
Frog
eggs
leaf
glossy, gelatinous
Black
wasp
bodes
grief
Jelly viscosity
tight
Larvae in quivering
plight
Clinginess cedes to the
bite
Supper for babies in
flight........flight
flight
Days
pass;
not
yet
spinning and fidgeting
Wasp
back;
get
set
Jiggle is signal of
rip
Tadpoles instinctively
flip
Wriggle to liquify
grip
Perilous pondwater
slip.........slip
slip
poem by Diane Hine
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Wasp Sting
A diabolic deed:
A pebble I pelted
At the hanging shelter
On the stem of plantain cluster:
Vengeance vapours; war clouds.
A smart wasp dared;
Sting of sting; I writhed:
Smouldering compunction;
Pricking tension;
I rubbed red forehead mine.
As a balloon tiny,
Blown with atrocity,
My forehead swelled:
Pang resolved
Never to trespass the insect kingdom.
A big foe retreated;
An act self pledged
For the wasp hamlet:
An act, we bewail, rusted in our hamlet,
Exposed to self absorption.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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