A poem by Captain Paul Watson.My poem for World Ocean Day Ask Not for Whom the Whales Bleed They Bleed for Thee! Cruising with anger through ribbons of sleet, The ships push on through the freezing tempest, Pursuing the Japanese whaling fleet. For six weary years this battle has raged, Fought upon a worldwide media stage, Both sides engaged and bitterly enraged. In distant dark waters cold and remote, Punished by piercing howling Banshee winds, In Southern oceans where the icebergs float. The coldest of seas receives the hottest blood, In the dark frigid waters it flows, Pouring off sad decks in a scarlet flood. The world’s greatest minds scream in abject pain, They die before eyes devoid of pity, Eyes that see profit in the crimson rain. Thrashing in agony on the surface, Spouting boiling blood in scarlet fountains, Flesh melted by the merciless furnace. Armoured black hearts dismiss their fiery pain, All that they ponder is what they will gain, And thus has humanity gone insane. Against this foul arrogance we throw our rage, Sailing into harms way to save the whales, Eco-pirates born of another age. Sailing against winds of opposition, Weathering vicious and vile contempt, Seeking the whale killers abolition. Ships are rammed, scuttled, boarded and sunk, The bullets fly and missiles are exchanged, Into chilling seas the small boats spill and dunk. What is this obsession we can’t resign? Why do we care when the world turns away? Is there any reason or grand design? The whales close their eyes when the harpoon sings, They kiss goodbye to the miracle of life, Puzzled by the apes with the deadly stings. Men who inflict cruel death without remorse, Whaling this loathsome task, hellishly dark, Men astride an apocalyptic horse. Armed with the most lethal of evil spears, Plunged into flesh so sensitive and warm, Their screams fall upon insensitive ears. Sparkles of scarlet dance in the salt mists, The sea churns violent swells of crimson pain, Justified by the lies of scientists. To describe the horror this inspires, Is not a task that mere words can perform, The blood of the whales feeds these vampires. Our dream is to drive a stake through their hearts, Destroying their industry forever, Of their culture of death, we wish no part. We come as chariots riding the storm, In the name of the three laws of nature, We seek to force the poachers to conform. Black samurai harpooning gentle whales, These neurotic narcissistic ninjas, Lethally impaling pregnant females. The gentle giants of the deep blue sea, Mysterious, magnificent and real, Before mankind’s evil they cannot flee. Up from the sea an iceberg cobalt blue, Reflects the dim light of the Southern Cross, Thrilling each member of our gallant crew. Each one of them have come from far and wide, Ready to risk their lives for the great whales, Weathering the winds, the swells and the tide. Circling around the floating abattoir, Tossing stinking, rotten, foul, butter bombs, High seas comedic drama, très noir. We are myth weavers on the dark oceans, Inspired by Leviathan’s sad song, Guided by such powerful emotions. We must not leave nothing to chance but chance, We inspire our own realities, Enhancing all our chances to advance. I close my eyes to glimpse nature’s stern face, Feeling the music of this wondrous sphere, Safe in the protection of her embrace. The lord of death no longer makes me weep, My eyes have gone bone dry of mortal tears, We live now with promises we must keep. We can no longer afford to lament, The lives of whales we save sustains our souls, Yet we are so far from being content. We must approach with tempered violence, Fighting a war with patience and restraint, Not for us, passivity and silence. I am the Captain and thus in command, The lives of so many lie in my hands, At my command they will defend and stand. The tactics we deploy could be tragic, But I know that shall never be the case, None but whales shall die in the Antarctic. It was there in the dying eye of a whale, A promise made and a promise tested, A promise that we cannot, must not fail. The salty seas sing a deep mournful tune, Warning that collapse may come very soon, Bringing death to immortal old Neptune. How does the briny ocean suffer death? We all know the answer to that question, We all die when the seas take their last breath. Our species has become a multitude, A viral plague upon this blue white pearl, Soon our cities will witness solitude. The green eyes of Princess Cassandra plea, Begging the world to heed her dark warning, This is a disaster we cannot flee. The whales are the guardians of the future, If they die, the oceans die, thus we die, It’s hope that we are working to secure. In this gallant effort we take chances, Change is brought about by profound courage, Their Achilles heel is their finances. We speak the language of economics, It’s the only language they understand, Cutting kill quotas dictates our tactics. Sailing into harm’s way for the great whales, Tens of Thousands of miles in pursuit, Riding the Cape Rollers through raging gales. What will end this mindless insanity? When will they stop tormenting the great whales? Whaling – this disgrace of humanity. Sometimes it takes pirates to save the day, Rules must be bent and a fine edge walked, We fight to prevent the oceans decay. We mount cameras instead of cannon, Replacing bullets with digital chips, Learning new ways to defend Poseidon. Playing the silly new media game, Print replacing old powder magazines, Television thriving on fame and shame. Harnessing McLuhan to our affairs, Disciples of the rules of media, Ignoring craven critics in armchairs. There are many factions to consider, So many strategies to contemplate, Paths both hypocritical and bitter. Truth is just a complexity of lies, Spun by cyber whores on computer screens, The story leads best that bleeds, screams and dies. But beneath the sham of shameless posers, Is the truth that we each hold in our hearts, And no hearts are blacker than the whalers. To our own species we may be traitors, And very proud traitors we are indeed, Condemned by cultural inquisitors. Where this will ever end I have no clue, We do what we do, that’s all we can do, As we pursue killers on the deep blue. It’s not just the whales, it’s the vast ocean, We cannot surrender this living prize, Guided by fair reason and emotion. In the end it is our strong love of life, Our utmost respect for the living sea, That gives us the strength to endure such strife. -pw
Posted on: Sun, 09 Jun 2013 16:13:38 +0000
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