I will always be grateful to whales…
for one simple reason why:
The first time I saw a whale fly
I thought…
if he can do it
so can I.
I will always be grateful to whales…
for one simple reason why:
The first time I saw a whale fly
I thought…
if he can do it
so can I.
May we all at least once on our lifetime
(because oh what a thrill it brings)
be blessed to be in attendance…
when a whale starts to sing.
Have you ever watched whales sleep? They have this wonderful adaptation.
They float effortlessly in the water…a kind of suspended animation.
Have you ever watched a baby sleep? If you ever have the chance to
you’ll see how in a dreamland they float effortlessly…a lot like whales do.
It seems we’re similar in a myriad of ways with our companions of the deep.
one way in particular…is the way in which we sleep
We are both beautiful in sleep…a time when worries and troubles cease.
We become united in our serenity…our silence, our solitude, our peace.
And sleep is where our dreams are made…be they simple…or extreme.
I wonder while they’re suspended in their sleep…of what do whales dream?
Do they dream of leaving the ocean? Do they dream of floating up to the stars?
Would we be surprised if they could tell us…how their dreams are similar to ours?
If their dreams are similar to ours…as I suspect,
when we take a moment to compare…
we begin to find between us…many other things we share.
We both are born, we eat, we breathe…
we love, we die…we weep.
Isn’t it amazing the things we can discover
while watching whales and babies sleep?
I'm born to kill. My name betrays
brutality in each grim ton.
I'm all my moniker portrays.
I'm born to kill.
But can I stop what I've begun
as my great appetite obeys
a blood urge? Can it be undone?
Will once I learn to change my ways?
Will I break through to see the sun,
so, my genes won't say all my days -
I'm born to kill?
Image 5
Clicks, whistles and pulsed calls
coming from whales you can't see
Within the compounds, no walls
only ocean water and Captain Lee
Sonograms and ultrasounds, its a joy
when whale voices are heard !
Binoculars views, soon they deploy
leviathans swim without a word
The echo returns not for they do run free
always returning to their summer grounds
Into the womb of the deep blue sea
they go, to a place where they can't be found.
Pink skies infest the starry dark.
Pest sprays reject the fireflies’ spark.
Bald eagles chopped by green windmills.
Right whales lie beached as sonar kills.
Rage that I can no longer view,
Bids my sense of wonder adieux.
Singers in the cold dark Atlantic Sea
Humpback whales crooning for free
Complex songs that are repeated for hours
Just one of the ocean’s mighty powers
Sperm Whales
From this Tuesday until I
die sperm whales will
no longer secrete
the waxy stuff used in
producing make-up. That’s why all the
make-up wearers are
no longer talking to
sperm whales.
What happens when someone falls out of love?
Is there a single, frozen in amber, sanctimonious moment when
you decide you’re too good for whomever - the falling-out moment
- where imperfections are revealed like a magic trick?
“Huh,” you find yourself saying, “Weren’t you cuter, half-an-hour ago?
Or is it a slow, drip, drip, drip Chinese-water-torture-like seepage?
Maybe breakups are written in the stars, you know, Mercury drifts into
retrograde and suddenly there’s empty air where your lover used to be.
I’m not in a breakup, but I like to be prepared - these are just questions.
like
Isn’t every male whale a sperm whale?
.
.
A song for this:
If I Didn't Have You (Live) by Tim Minchin
Minke Whales and The Songs They Sing
Their vocals were serene
like those of Smokey 007
humming
beneath
the ocean's waves
The peaceful lyrics they sang
ignited ripples
of saltwater tears
from the roaring spring tides
beneath
the constellation tainted sky
Jonah, praying in the great fish,
with putrid slime on red eyelids,
has the sudden faith
of near death -
sings on the beach,
fish-vomit in his beard.
Whale-songs drift,
doubts echo,
luring a pod to sand spits
where waves throw up bones.
Beneath the sun-kissed sky of Coastal California's domain,
Where Pacific waves meet the land, an eternal refrain.
Golden shores stretch along the rugged terrain,
A canvas painted with nature's utmost pertain.
Majestic cliffs rise with stoic grace,
Overlooking the ocean's vast embrace.
Seagulls glide on the breeze, a ballet in the air with grace
As the salty mist weaves tales without balance.
Beneath the azure sky, dolphins play,
With joyful leaps and flips, they lead the way.
Silhouetted against the sky so sunny,
Their laughter echoes, in a complete harmony.
Whales, majestic giants of the deep,
Gracefully traverse the waters, secrets to keep.
In rhythmic dance, their tails let tales slip,
Of distant journeys and ancient trails to keep.
Surfers ride the waves with skill and grace,
Chasing the rhythm of the ocean's embrace.
As the swell rises and the tide pulls in balance,
They become one with nature, in the Pacific’s embrace.
"Whales take four fish to water's edge"...
a crossword clue that I abandoned.
Instead I have returned to knitting a blue jumper.
I might add whales to it for fun.
They may well take fish to water's edge,
but no one will know this except me.
Fair-minded whale playground, compass dismisses
Ceylon sapphire zero horizon echo orchestral chamber
Forge rolling bow voyages of uncharted distance
Cut water instant recovery, oily onyx giants' undulations
Gleefully refuse gravity's hard ground insistence
Halloween door creak elaborate speak, torso of paisley
Gyrations ridicule keel knife edge flow resistance
Harried sails flap before collapse with human impatience
Dugongs admonish monolithic ships gritty missions
Adventure crave creatures flank vessels for playful races
Delight in the chase, never capture small victims
Allure fluid, serene serenades resonate clarinet cadence
October 31st
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