To be born a white dolphin
\nPure driven snow
\nAn elemental
\nAnd how that does grow
\nThe ultimate spirit
\nSo driven in me
\nAnd my dear mother
\nWith me constantly<\/p>\n
We are bottle nosed Dolphins
\nIt’s a Funny old name
\nWith a very big family
\nAnd my claim to fame
\nIs my wonderful mother
\nHer knowledge so vast
\nAnd so very spiritual
\nMost were aghast<\/p>\n
When they met her
\nAnd spoke to her
\nAnd did realise
\nShe was angelic
\nShe was faithful and wise
\nOf course I am enamoured
\nIn so many ways
\nWhat she means to me
\nAnd how it all plays<\/p>\n
Into my psyche
\nThe matriarch she
\nHelps me to swim and to rest
\nAnd to be
\nSafe and alive in this ocean
\nOf ours
\nWith its great authenticity
\nAnd of course its powers<\/p>\n
We ran a big pod
\nA huge family tree
\nAunties and Uncles
\nAnd children and me
\nGrandfather grandmother
\nEveryone here
\nThen it happened the terror
\nThe awe and the fear<\/p>\n
The chaos of pipe banging
\nBoats up above
\nThose callous those vile men
\nDevoid of all love
\nIt plays with our heads
\nWith our feelings and brain
\nAnd really I can tell you
\nIt drives us insane<\/p>\n
It’s a frightful experience
\nTo undergo
\nand so we were driven
\nIn hard as you know
\nTHe whole caboodle
\nHeading for TAIJI
\nAnd when they picked me out
\nMy mother could see<\/p>\n
There was no escape
\nBecause I was white
\nShe knew they would want me
\nAnd that my sweet light
\nWould not just turn off
\nThey would try tO sell
\nMe off to the highest of bidders
\nFrom Hell<\/p>\n
My mother she looked at me
\nWith her wise eyes
\nYou must be calm she said
\nOne of those guys
\nYou will be saved and sold off
\nShe said
\nTo the highest of bidders
\nBut I will be led<\/p>\n
To the tarps and will then be
\nrodded and killed
\nand plugged up with wood
\nSo that when my bloods spilled
\nMuch stays internally that’s what they do
\nSo the sea won’t turn as red
\nAs it used to do.<\/p>\n
It’s all about face with the fisherman folk
\nthey torture us blind
\nLike a pig in a poke
\nBut the sea then runs red
\nAnd the cameras can see
\nAnd the activists all around the world
\nVehemently<\/p>\n
Lose sleep get upset lament All the time
\nAnd most of the squalor is recorded in rhyme
\nA live cam from up on the hill so we hear
\nIs beamed to the world with pictures so clear
\nSuburbia knows of TAIJI and we too
\nHave this fact in our heads
\nKnowing it to be true<\/p>\n
Well of course it happened
\nWhen they saw me
\nA freak of nature
\nA rarity
\nThey began to fight over me
\nWho would collect
\nMy poor mother got wind of it f
\nAnd did elect<\/p>\n
To swim tO the bottom
\nAnd never return
\nTo breathe her last breath
\nWith a fit of concern
\nSo beside herself really forlorn
\nWishing in fact I had never been born<\/p>\n
I was alone for I knew
\nIn my heart
\nMother decided to die
\nAnd did start
\nTo weep so so much
\nThese horrid humans
\nSeemed so out of touch<\/p>\n
40 of my family were slaughtered
\nThat day
\nUncles and Aunties
\nA great array
\nof relatives
\nMurdered in cold blood and all
\nRodded and plugged
\nBy the big chief ghoul<\/p>\n
The sea remains bluer
\nBut death then is slow
\nThey die in such agony
\nAs you well know
\nAnd they feel so much
\nThey are sensitive souls
\nAll that wisdom lost
\nWith those wretched poles<\/p>\n
All they created was blood snot and tears
\nIncreasing the terror increasing the fears
\nThe pain of it all swimming right passed TAIJI
\nThis infamous place no one wants to see
\n52 others were sent to be slaves
\nTo do simple tricks till they went to their graves
\nIn sterile tanks dead to the world
\nIt’s a cruel darkly life in which most are hurled<\/p>\n
As for me I was white the gift of the sea
\nThe status I got was of course novelty
\nTHe TAIJI museum decided that they
\nWould have me to swim in their bath tub
\nThat day
\nAnd that’s where I have been, its been such a bore
\nI can’t really see what they want me for<\/p>\n
But thats where they put me so what Can I say
\nExcept I miss Mother,why was she made to pay?
\nI swim in these shallows the shadows of guilt
\nWith a few Japanese spying on me I have spilt
\nMy guts up a number of times and I say
\nHow much I miss mother every day<\/p>\n
She gave me guidance she gave me care
\nShe saw to it that I didn’t go anywhere
\nI wasn’t supposed to be, that was her role
\nTeaching me,loving me,her special soul
\nSO I weep everyday really trying to be
\nStronger but tragically Her face I see
\nShe was my mentor she was my life
\nShe was the matriarch
\nShe bore my strife<\/p>\n
Often I sit on the top and just pray
\nThat the dear golden goddess will take me away
\nI cannot stay here in the great throat of fire
\nWhere they throw small dead fish at me
\nAnd life is dire
\nI can’t abide, this dirt everywhere
\nThe trainer so called Mr Despair
\nI will not do tricks on command
\nAnd he should
\nDo his own silly tricks
\nWhich would be good<\/p>\n
All this time I have been there
\nIt’s a dusty old place
\nI try very hard to not show my white face
\nThe British activists can’t see me here
\nSo it’s only the tourists that sometimes appear
\nI can’t start to tell you
\nJust how everyday
\nMother comes back for a while and does stay
\nShe went to the edge and is now in a place
\nWhere she misses me and thus I ought to face<\/p>\n
The possibility that I could just
\nGo to the next world for really I must
\nThis awful enclosure is rusty as hell
\nThe food is all shitty
\nAnd does not suit me well
\nThere are tanks and trucks everywhere
\nwhat the brochures say
\nAbout where you were going
\nAs long as you pay<\/p>\n
The cetaceans pay heavily
\nBoth food and drink
\nThey are slaves to their master
\nSEAWORLD I THINK
\nAgain they do advertise
\nAnd what they do
\nIs not like the pamphlet
\nThat they will give you<\/p>\n
All sorts of stories about us and our lives
\nNothing alive really the knives
\nAre out there and ready to carve us to bits
\nWhen we have done what they planned
\nIt has me in fits<\/p>\n
I have suffered such angst On account of the way
\nThey feed us it’s all frozen they can take it away
\nWe really need live fish not This dead rancid stew
\nThat is the truth whatever they do
\nTo hear all our relatives torn from this earth
\nChopped up in pieces that’s what they are worth
\nLead and yes Mercury methyl for sure
\nThat enters the brain and reaches the core
\nFaster than ever we’re suffering and
\nWhy doesn’t that TAIJI mob now just disband<\/p>\n
They know we know of the toxic state
\nRadiation from Fukushima won’t abate
\nMercury loaded in high value fish
\nLike Salmon and Marlin
\nAnd we also wish
\nWe were not so polluted
\nWe are toxic waste
\nReally and truthfully it must be faced<\/p>\n
As my life unfolds I am bitter for I
\nCould have been with my mother now under the sky
\nLearning and yearning and turning to face
\nThe great whales of choice that often do grace
\nThe oceans for I now just about can
\nDo one rotation and go back to plan<\/p>\n
It’s a tenuous battle with profits and how
\nA white orca pictures herself and so now
\nWhat will become of me where can I go
\nWhy not back to the sea, back in the flow
\nThis tank of soup is a rancid affair
\nAnd really and honestly I shouldn’t be there<\/p>\n
So I beg all of you do your damndest and try
\nAnd get me a place in the sea now to die
\nYou cannot believe how lonely I feel
\nHow lost how the cost on me does reveal
\nA whole drawn out tragedy tugging away
\nBreaking my heart really everyday<\/p>\n
Written especially for Nicki Stevens ARA<\/p>\n
We must someday stop the infamous TAIJI dolphin drives and pithing and slavery training.we have to for not only are they diminishing in numbers but are literally toxic waste.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
To be born a white dolphin Pure driven snow An elemental And how that does grow The ultimate spirit So driven in me And my dear mother With me constantly We are bottle nosed Dolphins It’s a Funny old name … Continue reading