Wear a salmon on your head,
the wild Orca said,
make it a big chinook
or perhaps a steelhead.
It's very avant-garde;
it makes a fashion dent,
and kittens think the smell
is heaven sent.
A salmon hat is a cultural fad displayed by orcas, where they wear dead salmon upon their heads. It was first observed in 1987 with southern resident orcas and was a relatively short-lived phenomenon. In 2024, the behaviour was observed again with orcas in Puget Sound. The motivations for salmon hats are unclear, but other orcas will mimic the behaviour once it begins. One hypothesis is that orcas wear salmon hats to display high food availability, or that the same individuals that originally started the trend revitalized it. It may also indicate playfulness. ~Wikipedia
thunder rumbles
constantly
off in a distance
even more thunder
thunder
gets closer
intensified
howling tempest
lightning flashes
thunderclaps
clap again
house shakes upon its foundation
gust's speed picks up
constant lightning flashes
bringing nitrogen to earth
i feel it turning plants green
wind chimes dance
jingle
play their tunes
independently
in the mist of the bluster
God's presence is real
i know He's here
in this chinook
i know my Protector lives
He cares
He's real
my humanness still is afraid
each shake
each flash
each intense billow scares
His presence keeps me
from falling apart
running scared
or panicking
Desire balanced fulfilled
climax flight tolerance you
leave out on your Chinook
my breath within the wings
of the craft you are my mind
my sight my mind focused
hanger four we load the
cargo saying goodbye why
I cannot fathom I only whisper
sit down buckle your belt
and kiss me we shall meet
on the other side of the world
dance with me one more time
sing to me let's live like we
are dying cuddle me as
we embrace Tim mcgraw
lyrics I shall always remember
you when this air craft falls
on the wings of love my dove
Male Parasite Stabs Female in Neck With Peenis.
Males,which live up to six hours,fly around looking
for these embedded females,with which they'll mate
and then die,After the larvae emerge from the female,
she dies too.This is called suicidal sax or lethal sax.
Pacific salmon die after spawning the chinook species.
After her first batch of eggs hatch,mothers first
regurgitate food for newly emerged spiderlings and
then let the spiderlings eat her.Sperm competition drives
suicidal reproduction in antechinus and other marsupials.
These marsupials show extreme sexual behaviour and physiology.
Note.Are you ready to die Miss Luna Silver??? tha tha injection??
When the new harvest Moon,
shines in the night sky.
The orange pumpkin fruits,
are ready for pie.
The standing feed corn,
hasn't quite dried.
The warm days recede,
summers passed by.
When the new harvest moon,
shines in the night sky.
When the mid harvest moon,
shines in the night sky.
The leaf's brilliant hues,
will splendor our eyes.
The potatoes are picked,
Sorted by size.
And The Chinook are running,
they might spool your line.
When the mid harvest moon,
shines in the night sky.
When the late harvest moon,
shines in the night sky.
The migrating birds,
are flocking for flight.
The fully ripe apples,
make a baker's delight.
The wood's stacked high
dried for the fire.
The Seasons have changed,
and winter is Nigh.
When the late harvest moon,
Wanes in the night sky.
The trip was a riot of color,
It brings a myriad of queries,
Fantastic tales of utter darkness,
Views' visible roots were explored.
Mainsail surges,
pungent froth carried wave tips while,
blast swings moaning openly.
superb mountains,
Convey streams into streaming rivers,
Down slants shrouded in woods.
And the majesty of the stars,
Is confronted every morning,
Under soft white clouds,
is with each foot I set down.
I relish the quiet of the sound,
how each slant embraces,
the still raw bay.
Home to unglaciated cervids,
Gnawing animals and polar bears,
Willow grouse, deer,
Also, the renowned Chinook Salmon.
More genuine than the Arctic flow,
Afar-off state refuted,
In both word and deed,
Anyhow of these ever tender wishes.
Atop mottled strands,
I let my emotions air dry,
Orange tulips were selected,
I regained faith; I can fly.
5Th Place Contest Winner
Written: June 18, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Little lady bug by my window how pretty you look
with your fragile wings and sweet tiny polka dots
Fate brought you to me like a great chinook
you landed on my heart, like a Cupid shot !
Ladybug of luck, bring me happiness if you may
If I place you on my finger, may I make a wish
will you grant me a gift before the end of day
will you grant me true love, on a silver dish
Lady fly of beauty where did you come from today
did you stop at every port or only by my house
lady beetle, messenger and harbinger of play
dance upon my palm a little longer while I douse
I've seen you around before but never at my door,
please send me a man that I surely can, adore ?
January 18, 2022
Sponsor Angela Tune
Contest Name Insects
Ilchee, the "Moon Girl".
She paddled her own canoe ~
Bronze gaze, heart of steel.
Featured: Poetry Soup homepage. Week of 12/10/23
blogsview/4848702/ilchee--moon-girl-gazing---waterfront-renaissance-trail--vancouver-wa
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1R8nJSe8Jb0
Dreams are made of fairy dust and gold my mom once said
as she tucked me in real tight and kissed my sleepy head
you will see stars of bright and little angels baking bread
there upon a cloud, a Pegasus with wings of finest thread
Dreams are made for human bodies full of goodness, light
you can get there if you try and wish with all your might
you'll see blueberry moons with eyes that wink so bright
magic swords with pixie dust, that never fear the night
Fairies will rock you in their cradles by their garden nook
while you sleep five winks and create with just one look
up here you can be a butterfly lost in the winds of chinook
reveal most anything, be transparent as an open book
Dreams are made of fairy dust and gold my mom once said
as she tucked me in I fell asleep, with angels in my head.
We fished close to where he supposedly drowned.
Tossing lures into the black heart of the bay.
Trying to fool coho and Chinook, but only attracting a soul.
The sun retreated as old fishermen must do.
Orange lanterns glowing, rising to the chalk heart of dusk.
A Little Boy’s gun with a barometric trigger,
showed a Fat Man how to
blot out an Empire’s rising sun.
Proliferation’s need pushed
Sellafield and Kyshtym to trip chasing Manhattan.
Twenty two years later and just
three miles south of Middleton,
failed safe assurances lied again and signed
Pripyat’s some thousands years lease that left
eighteen billion rubles around one elephant’s foot.
Fukushima’s seven year menses – Pacific stained –
west coast tide pool colors an invasive green
as Chinook escapements fill five year graves.
Intractable cesium hangovers bleed MOX cocktails
Nostrils blowing bubbles over damned lips
fused to the tit of a beast we can’t tame.
-----------------------------------------------------
Contest: Remembering What You Want to Forget
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Date: 09.04.18
I like talking to you too much
the way you think and dream and dare
I like talking to you too much
drawn like a flame pulls in air
I like talking to you too much
your depth and passion and charm
I like talking to you too much
unexpected wind the Chinook disarms
I like talking to you too much
spinning in your smile, catching in your laugh
I like talking to you too much
momentum of a wave caught in a photograph
I like talking to you too much
fingertips scrape for more
but I'm talking to you too much
even if it's only a whisper under the door
COLLEVILLE SUR MER
In uneasy rest
He faces west.
They all face west to America -
So far away from this beach,
So very far out of reach.
He no longer feels the chinook
Nor the glance of mother’s knowing eye
Over the range on his Utah farm.
He is the son and brother
Of Omaha, Nebraska, and the Sandhills
Beckon him home.
Silence now
The tolling of the trolley
Car bell over the Bay.
Hear only the swish of beach sand.
He dreams endlessly
In the cold Channel breeze,
From the ocean
Between him and home.
......................................................
NOTES
Colleville sur Mer is where the American cemetery is located in France. All names on the gravestones face west.
Omaha and Utah are the names of invasion beaches on the Channel coast
of France where thousands of US soldiers died in 1944.
So, this is where butterflies go to die.
Atop this burning ochre beach.
Amidst the palomino stones, party streamers, and chinook bones.
They folded up their powdery dreams.
Awaiting the pallbearer's tide.
Toting emerald caskets, silver-lined.
So, this is where butterflies go to die.
TWO FOR FEBRUARY
i’m crossing fingers
mild february thus far
blue skies atlas smiles
blue bird on the wing
color against winter’s nap
harbinger of spring
Dave Austin
*inspired by “Chinook” – forgot the author
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