Species Protect Save Sacred Whales
water birth born
cry ocean songs...
communicative
across vast
surge arena Pacific
surf ocean songs
cry whale haunt
marine species protect
save sacred whales
all life marine species...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
Kiwi Heartbeat Poetic Chants
are tuned in distempered souls
mānuka honey is kiwi wild
wind clover flax fibre twist plait knot
ropes pull waka
rata season scarlet
letter tui bellbird chant
forest call
dawn chorus
awake spirits
melody songs
kauri earth rooted
sky stand poet
chant flies
spindle poet taxes
starvation soul
screaming write
visions boil in own blood cells
eyes boil flay flesh in vision quests
time spins fast
in seer sight
ebb tide beaches siren whales
water birth born to cry ocean songs
communicative across vast
surge arena Pacific ocean songs
mist child of Aotearoa
ride wide current ocean tides
to tip of embracing Cape Reinga
Pohutukawa
tree is rest eternal spirit
step home waiting...
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Killer Whales
Come my friends give an ear to this tale
It's all about the ocean and the big black whales
They are humongous, and hardly seen
Unless you are submerged in a submarine
Their home is the ocean,
They swim to the depths
And can easily escape the fishermen nets
In books you must have read their tales,
They are sea monsters called Killer Whales
They use echolocation to communicate and hunt
At times when the come up, you can watch their stunts
They are black with a few spots of white
And swim the ocean at the speed of light
The feast on marine mammals, fish and seals
That makes for them a wonderful meal
Each whale weights six tons or more
And are mostly found on the ocean floor
The enjoy the ocean without any fear
The King of the seas, thrust up like a spear.
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Whales
Whales.
What can I say about whales? I’ve seen them blow geysers of hot water
on the coast of Canada and Norway. Great innocent beings with small
brains living in peace, but for man. So much meat and fat; have you ever
tasted whale meat, it is dark and tender but it has to be soaked overnight
in vinegar or it will taste like cod liver oil. In the old days its fat made liquid
was good to lit lamps. We have got electricity now, so if you want a steak
kill a cow, they are plentiful, mind they are innocent too, graze and do not
know they are targeted to end up as burgers. The whales have a complex
language marine biologists say I don’t think it is hard at all, they are saying
in surprisingly feminine voice … where are you? I’m here two miles away
from you and watch out for boats, with propellers”. “Ok, thank you”
Sven Foyn, the whale murderer, nearly hunted them to extinction with his
exploding harpoon gun, but thanks to a few nature lovers this cruel practice
ended… Today there are many whales in the ocean sooner or later someone
will say there are too many of them, we have to cull them and make a little
money on the side. And unseen by us, but known by whales, a dark hulled
ship with a captain Ahab onboard is still hunting for an illusory white whale.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Steer through this ocean of emotion, which is your own creation
You are on an ocean
And on a small boat
Exclusively for you
You the lone passenger
You know what all could be there down under
The vast expanse of water
The marine life
Its varieties
Their beauties, strengths
And even their wild behaviours
You know also the
Great hidden treasure
At the bottom of the seabed
But you are always worried
About how to go about
Reaching the invisible shore
And you do not know
How far it is and in
Which direction
Rising waves raise fears in you
The unseen big marine animals down under
Occupy your thoughts
And threaten your very existence
There is shine
There is shower
There is cold
There is storm
But, you need to stick on
And to proceed till the time
You reach the shore
You are unaware of the
Nature of the shore
Where you will be landing
And in what shape
The above is the description
Of birth and death cycle
In Oriental thinking
The ocean personifies
The emotional turbulence
That occurs in you life through
Emotions are as strong as ocean
And they have the powers
To sustain livelihood
To create and to destroy as well
A check on emotions
Is the way you steer through
The ocean of life
Nurse those emotions, which are
Creative, proactive and productive
And do away with those
Which can drown you
And can be destructive
Seeking divine assistance
For safe landing on the shore
Is what these philosophies preach
Orienting yourself towards
Spirituality and self realization
Help you perform worldly duties
Without emotions
But, with passion and devotion
Steer through this
Ocean of emotion, which is
Your own creation
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Swift Kill Biting Mosquitoes
goldfish are a sacred species
cats are a sacred species
all life is a sacred species
somewhere to their devotees...
already a few honour all species
already a few honour all life
Buddhists honour all life sacred
most swift kill biting mosquitoes...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Underwater
Scanning at the blue bended headlands
White flurry scudded, a dark silhouette flashes by, in the wet
It is glistening flesh
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
There is room for make believe out in the ocean
There is room for make believe out on the land
In the wet, in the dream, if its flashing then seen
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
Looking to the white framed headland
Green pockets dropping, a bright cockatoo
Circles up in the breeze, in the realm you cant reach
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
There is room for make believe out in the ocean
There is room for make believe out on the land
In the west, crashes by, its a green silhouette
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
No one can make her, no one can break her down
Underwater, over land
No one can make her, no one can break her
Underwater, over land
No one can make her, no one can break her
She is what she is and no one can bring her down, bring her down
Looking to the white framed headland
Green pockets dropping a bright cockatoo
Circles up in the breeze, in the realm you cant reach
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
There is room for make believe out in the ocean
There is room for make believe out on the land
In the wet, flashes by, its a green silhouette
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
No one can make her, no one can break her
Underwater, overland
No one can break her, no one can fake her
She it what she is and no one can bring her down, bring her down
Underwater, overland
No one can squeeze her, no one can freeze her now
No one can make her, no one can break her down
No one can seize her, no one can freeze her
She is what she is and youve got to see it
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walking Seed Own Time Lines
creative soul quite out of sorts
are you really source defined
by what you past have done?
remembered by what you have written?
does not forest, lakes, rivers,
windswept beaches, ocean tides,
ebb flow in kiwi artistic souls?
do you not hunger starve feel
beginnings are glory dawn chorus
with an eternal day sun bean streams
birth begging come write me?
past writes be they haka or poi songs
lilting lullaby soft night whispered blessings
stretching dark far back to jaw thigh bones
stretch dark far back to ancestor jaw thigh bones
ancestor blessings running sleeping
dream running in waking
eye infant sleep listening...
eye infant ancient sleep listening...
artistic walking time lines
artistic walking seed own time lines
hooks fishing catch spirit minds
wear colour cloak rainbow bird feathers...
to be an artist and deny art
is to deny self decades
may be devoted invested
into deep wound near fever social causes
delving into tunnels lighting candles
holding lamps high warming other hands
but art denied crucifies poetic souls
song of self is wine sung trodden in life caverns
art is not mainstream commercials remix copycat dance routines
gaga sales pitch rip offs
never climb stairways
to heaven sung unique songs
are tuned in distempered souls
mānuka honey is kiwi wild
wind clover flax fibre twist plait knot
ropes pull waka
rata season scarlet
letter tui bellbird chant
forest call
dawn chorus
awake spirits
melody songs
kauri earth rooted
sky stand poet
chant flies
spindle poet taxes
starvation soul
screaming write
visions boil in own blood cells
eyes boil flay flesh in vision quests
time spins fast
in seer sight
ebb tide beaches siren whales
water birth born to cry ocean songs
communicative across vast
surge arena Pacific ocean songs
mist child of Aotearoa
ride wide current ocean tides
to tip of embracing Cape Reinga
Pohutukawa
tree is rest eternal spirit
step home waiting...
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gulf Aftermath 2
Gulf Aftermath
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted August 15 2010
BP causes a fire ball disaster from Louisiana to Florida
tar balls with oil streaming about the ocean top,
while tar balls with oil streaming about the ocean bottom.
BP spraying some kind spray to get rid of the oil on top
even on the ocean floor killing everything in it's path marine life,
dolphins with birds found dead in Louisiana to Florida.
Louisiana afraid to fish again because they found clams dead
shrimp is alive, but afraid to fish than eat them
The same goes with the rest of marine life.
Florida afraid to fish again, because of the spray
the only place to swim is inner coastal waters as long it not the ocean,
like alligator point bay, rainbow river, the gulf ocean maybe altantic are not safe.
We cannot answer about the other two states, earth hurts for human error.
poem by Lori Triggs
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The Mistic Ocean
It's a beautiful the mistic ocean.
I‘m intoxicating because a unknown mystery.
The Ocean feel as my inside world and
the surf break as drops of water.
The soul was very lonely so came to see a the Ocean's kept a dreamed and
It wanted to be similiar to the Ocean.
The wide the Ocean is the native place of everything life very long time ago.
At the Ocean my mind is easy fall in love if exist person that well suit to me.
I felt the cold weather of life so I came to the Ocean.
Here I seek for that The dream of my soul.
Sometimes the Ocean was melancholy and furious.
It shows to we irdirectly that the various foms of the life
I want eagerly that
always as friend I'll do with Ocean and
permenently I'll live to keep the dream of Ocean.
They are a fairly aggressive conservation organization that was started to protect the great whales particularly, but in general all marine life around the world. So those are the people I'm trying to attach my name to.
quote by Richard Dean Anderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The real threat to whales is whaling, which has endangered many whale species.
quote by Dave Barry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sea So Deep
the sea so deep
it never sleeps
by day or night
it lives on the fight
against the rocky coast
which is its host
rushing ramming
against its side
then it (wave water) does
a quick fast dive.
down below
its calmer there
for no waves roll
way down here
ocean surge
current swell
foaming water
tales to tell
marine life dwells
in tidal margins
lunar pull water turns
undercurrents chargin
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Poetic fragment surviving lines 1–14 written when I was thirteen.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Gulf Aftermath
Gulf Aftermath
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted August 15 2010
BP causes a fire ball disaster from Louisiana to Florida
tar balls with oil streaming about the ocean top,
while tar balls with oil streaming about the ocean bottom.
BP spraying some kind spray to get rid of the oil on top
even on the ocean floor killing everything in it's path marine life,
dolphins with birds found dead in Louisiana to Florida.
Louisiana afraid to fish again because they found clams dead
shrimp is alive, but afraid to fish than eat them
The same goes with the rest of marine life.
Florida afraid to fish again, because of the spray
the president was down here with his family
was swimming in alligator point with his daughter it was not the ocean,
alligator point bay, so he told a lie the waters are not safe.
We cannot answer about the other two states.
Do you trust BP?
Do you trust our government?
Do you trust our president?
poem by Lori Triggs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Member Of The Corps
He was small for a Marine,
The dying boy there in the bed.
Three times he'd fought off cancer
but now, inside his head,
a serious infection
would claim his life instead.
Cody Green was only twelve.
All his life he'd loved the Corps.
They made him a navigator,
The insignia he wore.
An honorary soldier
A marine in time of war.
The crises was upon him.
He would not win this fight
A fellow member of the Corps
Stood honor guard all night
There would be a flag draped coffin
for this member of the Corps.
Cody Green, a Young Marine
A Marine in time of war..
poem by John F. McCullagh
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World’s Fisheries In Deep Crisis
April 2009 stocks
we already knew
world’s fisheries
were in deep crisis
do math shocking
more fishing boats
chase last shrinking
smaller fish stocks
half this world’s
fish caught fishing
we are throwing
back dead or is sales
sold no regard paid
to whether net fish
stock is endangered
or a species bycatch
38 million tonnes
of marine life taken
every year from seas
is not catch intended
target of fishing
vessels numbers
of most popular
species fall rapid
poem by Terence George Craddock
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No Goldfish
Who will care
for my poems
when I die?
I have no goldfish
or pet cat
to give away.
My poems will cuddle up
serenely curl up with you
on a long winter’s evening.
My poems will swim and flash
tails of intricate golden detail
on a long cozy winter’s evening.
Who will care
for my poems
when I am gone?
Goldfish are a sacred species
cats are a sacred species
all life is a sacred species somewhere.
Poems are also
a sacred life force.
For it is the task appointed
to the divine poet to render;
foolish humanity worthy
when seeking redemption,
through hidden wisdom written
within sealed lines, in a starlit poem.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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It has long been a fact familiar to geologists, that, both on the east and west coasts of the central part of Scotland, there are lines of raised beaches, containing marine shells of the same species as those now inhabiting the neighbouring sea.
quote by Charles Lyell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Ira Hayes
Gather round you people and a story I will tell
About a brave young indian you should remember well
From the tribe of pima indians, a proud and a peaceful band
They farmed the phoenix valley in arizona land
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till their white man stole their water rights and the running water hushed
Now iras folks were hungry and their farms wene crops of weeds
But when war came he volunteers and forgot, the white mans greed
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
They started up iwo jima hill, 250 men
But only 27 lived to walk back down that hill again
And when the fight was over and the old glory raised
One of the men who held it high was the indian ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Now ira returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand
But he was just a pima indian, no money crops, no chance
And at home nobody cared what ira had done and the wind did the indians
Dance
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
And ira started drinking hard, jail was often his home
They let him raise the flag there and lower it like youd throw a dog a bone
He died drunk early one morning, alone in the land he had fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, but his land is still as dry
And his ghost is lying thirsty in the ditch where ira died
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Respond To The Call Of The Blue Whale
i
and for this reason
you shaun
too shall
live,
ii
live too
shaun
you and for this
reason
iii
the whale is blue
and lives in the ocean
blue
blue whale
in a blue ocean
deep
whale
iv
shaun blue deep
blue whale
ocean blue
we are one
i am also
blue in deep ocean blue
whale
v
ok.thanks, there is so much
to do when blue
when whales are blue
when oceans are blue
when everything is blue
blue, blue, blue, blue,
yes, thank you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Rock
Departed species are caught
to eternity in stone
and the mastodon, Compsognathus, Archaeopteryx
are forever frozen like plants, trees
and marine life buried in shale,
limestone and sandstone.
Yet, the rock of the ages
are still sheltering me
from the impact of destiny
in a world of sin
where the havoc
of life wants to enter in
and alone by His sacrifice
I am totally free.
poem by Gert Strydom
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