HORRORS ON THE HIGH SEA AND WITHIN THEIR EYES ETC BY DANIEL NORTH

 


Photograph shows Francois Hugo of Seal-Alert South Africa with rescued cape fur seals



QUERY BY DANIEL NORTH
mark@dannorth.fsnet.co.uk
http://www.newdawnpoetry.freeuk.com


*.*.*.*.*


HORRORS ON THE HIGH SEA

- FOR THE CAPE FUR SEALS OF SOUTH AFRICA -


Drop down your weapons

And forget your mindless hunt

As in order for peace to happen

Its message has to be clear and blunt.

Listen! Where is the damn fun!.

In maiming and shooting.

Such gracious, prestigious creatures.

As it's their history too that they're polluting.

Shredding seal bulls of their dignity.

Horrors of the high seas drip from every pore.

Envisioning the blood, the echoing shrieks.

Of baby carcasses being clubbed on the shore..

So let's show the way in rediscovering the heart.

By rescuing them away from the inflicting sin.

As all they want is the chance to swim freely.

And to share their love that glows within..

© Daniel North.


*.*.*.*.*


ENCRYPTING NUMBERS


Too many cracks appearing

And there's not enough sense

There's too many tongues being tied

Too much back slapping . . . . .

Too much sitting on the fence.

Too many elastic band brains

Are snapping back all the time

Too many sit down meetings

Are escaped by too many lies . . . .

Why has compassion become such a crime?

Against the fishermen that pack guns

Instead of their lures and rods

Thereís too many cover ups

Too much smudging of the law

Too many Indians, too many gods.

But there are the strong few

That can look for truth and impartiality

That can break the encrypted numbers

That can make the seals free

Putting the maggots back on the hook

Regaining all of which they took

Resuming dignity within the sea

And need I ask who they are?

It comes from people like you and me.

© Daniel North


*.*.*.*.*


WITHIN THEIR EYES


I hear the chugging sound of boat propellers

Suddenly in the currents murder is smelt

Whilst the locust faced fishermen

Scan vastly to prize their cherished pelt.

Thinking that this is my last heartbeat

A rampant tribal drum pounding in the tide

I am unsure in where to look amongst this suffering

Please help me; I need a guardian angel by my side.

As I begin to visualise boiling crimson oceans

And the fanatic chants that have ripped me from my sleep

Looking for the gun wounds, that I felt were so real

A nightmare of a moral for all of mankind to keep.

As we have grown so ignorant through a perceived dominance

Ravaging the pleasures of the swallowing sea

Do we still remember that we are mere tourists?

On a planet thatís linked by love and held by gravity. So allow our spirit to lead the thunderous numbers

That can crumble away the fur seals unjust demise

And offering a minute for gentleness and understanding

By seeing it all within their eyes.

© Daniel North