The Hogarth Experiment Part 3
Police Constable Broadworth
was sent from the station
to go to see if he could locate Joe Harper
after a frantic phone call from his surgery.
It would seem as if he had missed
several of his appointments,
which was not like Joe at all.
He cycled down the same lane
where Joe Harper’s car was parked.
He could hear his car still running.
The scene that greeted him
was not he had expected.
The car was in the lane,
but Joe Harper was no where about.
Broadworth shouted out his name,
but got no reply.
Broadworth dismounted from his bike.
He felt it strange that Jo Harper
would have left his car running.
Broadworth searched the area
after turning off the engine of the car.
Joe Harper was nowhere to be found.
It was as if he had vanished into thin air.
He put his bike in the back of the car,
then drove it to the nearest farm
and telephoned the station
to inform them what he had found.
Even though the war was over
the battery near the town
was still occupied by three men.
It was about a half a mile from the hamlet.
The three privates there
were brewing themselves a cup of tea.
A humming sound unlike anything
they had ever heard grew louder.
They stood up and grabbed their rifles.
They gazed around,
but nothing could they see.
Suddenly shadows passed over them.
Each felt a chill run down their spine.
They loaded theirs rifles and fired
as the shadows came overhead again.
They reloaded and fired a second volley.
The humming sound got louder
as if it was amplified a thousand times.
After they fired each volley
one of the soldiers fell.
There seemed no defence
from these shadows from the sky.
To be continued…
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Joe Harper Saturday Morning
Well you thought I was a stranger when you looked upon me, when I came by
But to take you from disaster I cannot master, (the four winds...shy ? ? ? )
And the roamin in the gloamin you have brought, and set before me
And I think that its an omen, Im just not what so many people see.
And you shine your glory all around
Do not disguise what we did
I asked you for half a pound, and you said -
Go see joe harper, saturday morning, kid
Go see joe harper, saturday morning, kid.
And the child held a ball in the garden, with the old queen
And you kissed the lips and heart in all the (stranger? ), you know what I mean
And you walked on in the streets all lonely, in your own childish way
And you thought that you would only - do it for today.
And you shine your glory all around
Do not disguise what we did
I asked you for half a pound, and you said -
Go see joe harper, saturday morning, kid
Go see joe harper, saturday morning, kid.
And just went outside the club and the rain came down on his head and it got all soaking wet.
He said go for yourself, I said I know, sure joe, I aint conquered yet
And I walked away from the backstreets and the rain, and the (song? ), how many times have I died?
And we turned on outside of the bus shelter and I jumped on and said goodbye.
And I shine my glory all around
Do not disguise what I did
Tried to keep it underground and they said -
Go see joe harper, saturday morning, kid
You gotta, go see joe harper, saturday morning, saturday morning...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musical magic a logarhyme
The ancient harper starts to play.
All background noises fade away.
We sit spell bound
We are transported to the past.
Times iron rule is overcast
by his sweet sounds.
The present ceases to exist.
The silver notes will long persist
to be profound.
The ancient harper cannot see.
His eyes don’t work effectively
He can’t look round.
But we can see and we can hear.
We’re privileged to be here.
Applause resounds.
The harper starts to play again
A soft and gentle sweet refrain.
I am dumbfound.
As are the whole audience
The music holds us in suspense.
We are held bound
By the spell the harper weaves
and will be til the harper leaves.
We’re still spell bound.
Saturday,21 November 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Harper Valley Pta
I want to tell you all a story bout a harper valley widow wife
Who had a teenage daughter that attended harper valley junior high
Well her daughter came home one afternoon and didnt even stop to play
And she said, mama, Ive got a note here from the harper valley pta
Well the note says mrs. johnson, youre wearing your dresses way too high
Its been reported youve been drinkin and a runnin round with men and goin wild
Now we dont believe you ought to be a bringin up your little girl this way
And it was signed by the secretary, harper valley pta
Well it happened that the pta was gonna meet that very afternoon
And boy, were they surprised as mrs. johnson wore her miniskirt into the room
And as she walked up to the blackboard I can still recall the word she had to say
She said Id like to address this meeting of the harper valley pta
Now theres bobby taylor sittin there and seven times hes asked me for a date
And mrs. taylor sure seems to use a lot of ice whenever hes away
And mr. baker can you tell us why your secretary had to leave this town
And shouldnt widow jones be told to keep her window shades all pulled completely down
Now mr. harper couldnt be here cause hes stayed too long in kellys bar again
And if you smell shirley thompsons breath youll find shes had a little nip of gin
And then you have the nerve to tell me as a mother you think that I aint fit
Well this is just a little payton place and youre all harper valley hypocrits
Now I wouldnt put you on because it really did, it happened just this way
That day my mama socked it to the harper valley pta
That day my mama socked it to em at the harper valley pta
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm not going to do the Ben Harper house record or the Ben Harper drum 'n' bass record.
quote by Ben Harper
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 2
The fire raged out of control
and into the night.
Its glow coloured the sky.
Chemicals exploded
as they warmed to boiling point.
Hogarth’s assistant Adam Wright
pulled Hogarth from the flames
and across the lawn.
The clanging of bells
from the Fire Brigade and Ambulance
were soon to be heard.
Hogarth was rushed to hospital
where he would stay for just over a month.
His makeshift laboratory laid
a charred skeleton on his return.
All his work was gone,
destroyed in the fire.
He was a broken man.
He became a recluse in his home.
His hair turned white overnight.
He just sat everyday in his chair
and looked out the window
from dawn to dusk.
No one could reach him;
it was as if his will to live was gone.
Three years later and Hogarth hadn’t changed.
He would get up every morning
and in his chair would sit.
The war in Europe was over
and celebrations now had begun.
The mighty Germany had fallen;
its leader Hitler was now dead.
Soon the troops would be coming home.
The VE day celebrations were getting well into swing.
While on a farm not far from the valley
something strange was happening.
Ernest Rotherham went out to bring in his cattle
from grazing for milking time.
The sight that greeted his eyes made him cry.
There spread across the field
his cattle lay dead everywhere.
He ran back to his farm
and telephoned for the Vet.
The Vet was on call at the moment,
but on his return, they would send him out.
About twenty miles away
Joe Harper the local Vet
was driving down a county lane.
Bushes grew tall on either side
and from behind them;
he could hear a loud hum.
He stopped the car,
but left the engine running.
He opened the door,
got out and peered through the bushes.
A sharp pain like a knife pierced his back.
To be continued…
poem by David Harris
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 5
Peter levelled the shotgun
at the insect as big as a sheep
and pulled the trigger and again.
The blast knocked
the beast away from his father.
He quickly reloaded
as another giant insect
came close to his father.
The creature spun sideways
as the shot hit it.
Both creatures rose to their feet.
His father picked up the pitchfork
and jammed it deep
into the first insects head.
The insect wobbled on its legs
before collapsing dead.
The other moved giant insect
towards the fallen insect.
Peter had reloaded the shotgun
and fired both barrels at the head
of the advancing insect.
The head of it seemed to explode.
Peter reloaded the shotgun again.
His father ran towards him
pushing out of the way
of another giant insect.
They scrambled to their feet
and ran to the farmhouse.
They bolted the door
and moved to the window.
What they saw astonished them.
More and more giant insects landed
and seem to examine the fallen ones.
They then lifted them into the air and flew off.
John looked at his son.
Their battle was over.
All the giant insects disappeared
along with the two they had killed.
John went across to the phone
and telephoned the police.
He told them what had happened,
half expecting them to laugh.
They asked for his address
and said they would be sending
some people out to him.
They told him to remain inside with his family
and keep the windows and doors
locked until they arrived.
An hour passed and several armoured personnel carriers
stopped in the farmyard.
A dozen or more troops
emerged from the vehicles.
The Officer in charge
deployed them around the vehicles
before he and a short spectacled man
came to the door of the farmhouse.
John Fairchild let them in.
The short spectacled man introduced himself
as Raymond Constantine from Cambridge University
where he taught about insects.
The reason why they took so long to get there
was that he had to be flown down from Cambridge.
He asked if they could describe the insects
that they had battled with.
As they old him, Constantine frowned.
He then asked how many did they see?
John wasn’t sure,
but he estimated over twenty.
Constantine face grew paler.
He knew what kind of insects
had attacked them
and that very thought of that worried him.
He then asked what size they were.
John’s answer frightened Constantine even more
when he told him they were as large as sheep.
Constantine turned to the Captain
and said they must get back to HQ.
He then turned to John
and warned him
that he must not go out in the daytime.
Evenings and at night were Ok,
but not during the day.
Constantine and the Captain then left.
On he journey back to HQ
Constantine kept his eyes on the skies.
The insect John Fairchild had told him about
were social insects
and lived in nests of up to ten thousand workers.
Their nests were in a hole the ground.
The problem was going to be to locate the nest
and kill all the occupants,
but mainly the queen.
She would have to be destroyed.
Several times, he thought he saw something,
but they were merely birds.
As the continued, deeper into the valley
a humming sound arose around them,
slowly getting louder and louder.
Constantine turned to the driver
and shouted at him to stop.
The sky turned from blue to black
as a mass of insects flew overhead.
Constantine’s face turned ashen
with horror at what he saw.
Several of the insects seemed
to be carrying human bodies.
Others had small animals.
Several of the soldiers left the armoured vehicles
and were firing at the insects.
Sudden they swarmed them.
To be continued…
poem by David Harris
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 4
Professor Robert Hogarth sat
and looked out the window,
what he saw each day amazed him.
Where the remnants of his burnt out laboratory,
he watch each day the quickness of the new growth there.
Tiny shrubs were the next day mature plants.
He noted in his journal,
which kept hidden, everything he saw.
Each day the remains of his laboratory
slowly disappeared from sight under a sea of green foliage.
It was not only the plants
that were growing out of proportion.
Other things much more scary had begun to appear.
These made him order that none of his staff
go out during the day under any circumstance.
It was almost dusk when the empty battery was found.
The police notified the Army,
but couldn’t give them no explanation
as to why the soldiers had disappeared,
other than all three men were gone
leaving behind their belongs and their guns.
The Army’s reply was that they would send
their own investigation team down in the morning.
The reports of animal deaths and human disappearances
were mounting and the police were mystified.
They went to the unusual step
of arming their officers on the beat.
Each had to sign for a weapon
and ten round of ammunition
before leaving the station.
Not knowing the threat that had come to the valley,
they were not taking chances.
It was felt that just a truncheon was not enough protection
from what ever was doing the killings adductions.
The night was quiet and no new incidents were reported.
However as the dawn broke
a humming sound broke the stillness of the morning.
John Fairchild and his son Peter
came out of the barn
as several shadows passed over them.
John told his son to get back indoors
as he ran into the barn and grabbed a pitchfork.
Peter ran as fast as he could
to the farmhouse without looking back.
Getting inside he closed the door
and raced to the window to look outside.
He saw his father fighting a giant insect with the pitchfork.
Peter went to the living room
and grabbed his father’s shotgun from the wall,
then went to the drawer where the shotgun shells were kept.
He shoved as many as he could
in his pockets and loaded two into the gun.
He opened the door
to see one of the insects
had knocked his father to the ground
and had its stinger poised.
To be continued…
poem by David Harris
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Turlough Carolan
He was blind and illiterate that much of him we know
And still his music is with us from centuries ago
He had creative genius and his genius still shine through
A rare gem Turlough Carolan one of the chosen few.
The harper of the county Meath in music live today
His music known around the World in Countries far away
And Carolan's concerto still very much alive
The only test of genius is when their work survive.
The only test of genius is when their work live on
For centuries and centuries when they are dead and gone
And Carolan has passed that test a name to celebrate
His music live three hundred years the genius of the great.
A son of peasant parents and destined to be poor
And though addicted to alcohol his genius remained pure
I like that saying it says it all 'can't keep a good man down'
And the name of Turlough Carolan was destined for renown.
I just switched on the radio to hear the D.J. say
This is a tune from Ireland from Ireland far away
Carolan's farewell to music, oh let the music play
The music of the harper the harper lives today.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Remember, this was a world that was still ethnically separated. I was thirteen and ignorant of the social situation in America, but I felt these records were better than what my own culture was turning out.
quote by Roy Harper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From A Moving Train
Written by gerry beckley, 1998
Found on human nature.
Ive seen the ides of march
And Ive seen the fall of rome
Ive seen all kinds of stuff
But I never see my home
If my life-line is
These million miles of track
One thing I know by now
There is no turning back
From a moving train
From a moving train
From a moving train
From a moving train
If every venture was
A path to no avail
Id still be rolling down
This never ending trail
If we had a destination
In our sights
We would be helpless as
We passed it in the night
From a moving train (hear the engine running)
From a moving train (you can get on board)
From a moving train (hear the motor humming)
From a moving train (see, youve gotta see the light)
And if by chance you find a woman
That you might love along the way
You better hold her tight
Tell her everythings alright
Or she might jump along the way
From a moving train (hear the engine running)
From a moving train (you can get on board)
From a moving train (hear the motor humming)
From a moving train (see, youve gotta see the light)
From a moving train (hear the engine running)
From a moving train (you can get on board)
From a moving train (hear the motor humming)
From a moving train (see, youve gotta see the light)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Life
wild life
animals creatures
running floating flying
They need our help
MIRACLES
poem by Katelin Offord Harper
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That happens every time I get behind a guitar, regardless of what I'm saying, 'cause music is freedom and being free is the closest I've ever felt to being spiritual.
quote by Ben Harper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Judges pretty much act independently once they get on the bench so I'm not really sure why Harper's concerned that the court is currently being stacked with a lot of Liberal appointments.
quote by Alan Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Friend
Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it a year has gone.
And I never see my old friend's face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,
She knows I like her just as well,
As in the days I rang her bell.
And she rang mine but life went on with a whirl,
And now we are busy, tired girls,
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
'Tomorrow, ' I say, 'I will call on Harper
Just to show I'm thinking of her.'
But tomorrow comes nad tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows,
Around the corner, yet miles away,
'Here's a telegram miss, ' 'Harper died today.'
And that's what we get and deserve in the end,
Around te corner, a vanished friend.
Remember to always say what you mean;
If you love someone, tell them.
Do't be afraid to express yourself.
Reach out and tell someone what they mean to you,
Because when you decide that it is the right time it might be too late.
poem by Tiana Webb
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Beating Of Hearts
Do you know what noise awakes you
Every morning from your bed
A-coming from the farthest hillside
A-coming from inside your head
You have heard
You have heard the loudest sound
In this and every world you can think of
Chorus: louder than tanks on the highway
Louder than bombers in flight
Louder than noises of hatred
Dancing us from darkest night is the rhythm of love
Powered on the the beating of hearts
And did you know you had this power?
Drumming on it always stays
Never try to use it badly
Tunes of good are all it plays
You have heard
You have heard the loudest sound
In this and every world you can visit
Chorus
For a heart without love is a song with no words
And a tune to which no-one is listening
So your heart must give love and youll find that
You shine like rain on the leaves youll be glistening
You have heard
You have heard the loudest sound
In this and every world you can think of
Louder than thoughts of dictators
Louder than rattling swords
Louder than loading of rifles
Louder than screaming warlords
Chorus
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I grew up listening to spiritual music, Blind Willie Johnson and folk.
quote by Ben Harper
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Good Deed Done.
The old woman
was lying
on the path
from her
ground floor flat
along Harper Road
when you and Helen
walked by
on your way
from the shop
with your penny drinks
you both ran to her
and she said she'd fallen
so Helen
ran across
to the surgery
on the other side
of the road
while you knelt
by the woman
placing your
short sleeved pullover
under her head
you're a good boy
she said
but you'll have blood on it now
don't matter
you said
you stroked her head
and pushed
her grey hair
out of her white blue eyes
when Helen returned
with a doctor
he examined
the old woman
and said
he had called
an ambulance
Helen stood
next to you
her eyes tearful
her hand
touching yours
the woman said
thank you both
I don't know
what I'd have done
if you hadn't come along
it's the least we could do
Helen said
you waited
until the ambulance came
and took her away
and disappeared
off along Harper Road
look at your pullover
Helen said
it's got blood on it
don't matter
gives it colour
you replied
anyway Mum'll wash it out
she gazed at you
through her thick lens
her eyes awash
with tears
her small hand
still in yours
the path
from the old lady's flat
had a small stain
of dark red
where blood had seeped
where she'd laid her head
a bit like an abstract
pavement artist's work
you said
the white stone canvas
with that touch of red.
poem by Terry Collett
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The bike must go - a song
Got to keep the engine running - My soul's on fire
Like to see my baby - my one desire
Can't help this feeling it's hard to explain
It hurts my heart it gives me pain
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go
Riding through the city streets, with my leathers on
Looking cool in black as the day is long
I can't quite understand it but my baby's wrong
Plugged into her Ipod and listening to her song
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go.
She's driving me crazy with her stance
And I'm sure she's taking me for a dance
When she says I hate it - it's like doing time
Then she looks at me and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
There's no way around it, can't persuade her n-o more,
it'll be a pity but what can I do?
Sooner or later she's got to see
The bike's for cruising with her and me
And she says:
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
How can she be so cruel when I love her so
I tried ever thing to please her that I know
Got to keep my baby on the wild side
And she looks into my eyes and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
I love my baby like a dog chewing a bone
I called her this morning on the telephone,
There's no way around it
I tried my best
There's nothing more to say except
The bike must go
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
*I turned this poem into a song which you can listen to on Youtube or google. Just type 'the bike must go' Enjoy.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Casebook Of Oliver Cyriax - Case 1# The Burning Bush (Part 2)
The smoke from his pipe
rose up like a small cloud.
For a long time afterwards, t
he fire in the barn
was referred to as a ghost fire.
The next ghost fire happened
almost six months later to the day
in the midst of the summer sun.
A passing tramp had rested
for a while in a field
and fell asleep against a tree
as the grass around him suddenly came alive
with flames that burnt close to his feet.
The local Constable was riding passed
saw the flames and dismounted from his bike.
Racing into the field,
he tried to beat out the flames with his jacket.
Still the flames danced around the tramp,
whom was asleep and unaware.
The Constable yelled at him,
but the tramp did not arouse from his slumber.
The Constable looked around
and off to his left noticed a stream.
He ran across to it and filled his helmet with water.
Running back he threw the water over the tramp.
The tramp woke up startled and looked around.
He stood up and asked the Constable,
just what he thought he was doing
throwing water over him.
Watch out for the fire
the Constable shouted back.
The tramp scratched his head
and asked what he was talking about.
The fire, the fire, the Constable replied.
What fire? The tramp asked.
It was only then that the Constable realised
that the fire was no longer there.
He was mystified how it disappeared.
It was about six months after that,
another ghost fire occurred
in the very Inn where I was staying.
The bar was crowded
when suddenly against one of the walls
a fire started and seemed to burn ferociously.
The first thing the customers did
was to start throwing their drinks against the wall
in hope to dampen the flames.
They met with little success
and the fire brigade was called.
The bar was evacuated
and the firemen came in with their hoses,
which like the drinks had no success on the flames.
As with all the other incidents
the fire raged for several hours
before dying away of its own accord.
The investigation that followed
found nothing had been burnt or scorched.
There seemed no earthly reason
for the mysterious fires that engulfed things,
but never harmed any of them.
Then last month the burning bush began.
When it was discovered,
an attempt was made to extinguish it,
but failed like the ones before.
Presently each night ever since
the bush ignites itself and burns for several hours
before disappearing again.
Oliver paused for a few moments,
stroked his chin
and puffed a couple of times on his pipe.
To be continued…
poem by David Harris
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You have to do what you believe in.
quote by Ben Harper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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