Poem #33

Alright.

I want you to go deep into your memory.

Back to when you were a kid.

When the world was simpler,

Yet more wondrous.

Now travel to the worst memory of your life.

Maybe the day you broke your leg and ruined your summer.

Or maybe someone died.

Like a friend.

Or a family member.

Someone you loved.

Think about all the tears and the pain.

How their loss changed your life.

How dearly you missed them.

How you wish you go back in time and be with them.

How you hoped it wasn’t real.

The Vaquita is a family member.

A brother.

A sister.

A father.

A mother.

Except this family member,

You can save.

If the Vaquita goes extinct,

You may not even know.

You could find out years later.

How guilty would you feel?

Did you ever feel so guilty,

Because you knew that something was your fault,

But someone else was punished.

Minorly or majorly.

Extinction is not minor.

Extinction means ‘to extinguish.’

Forever.

In a way,

Losing the Vaquita is worse than losing a loved one.

Because we completely control the fate of the Vaquita.

We are holding the entire species in our hands.

Like a fragile egg.

We can manipulate its success.

Not individually,

But as a group,

A whole,

We can save the Vaquita.

Because if we don’t,

The guilt will be overwhelming.

Poem #32

The present is an important time.

By now, the present is in the past.

And there is nothing you can change about the past.

However, the only time you can change the future

Is right now.

Poem #31

You might ask, “Why do I help the Vaquita?”

And my answer is, “Why wouldn’t I?”

I cannot force myself to think of a world without Vaquita.

They have helped shape much of my young life, from the early online research to now.

They have inspired me to do things I never thought were possible—or had the courage to do.

They have given me the confidence to stand up and make a difference in this dying world.

They have presented me with endless ideas for poems, books, and artwork.

They have saved me with the knowledge that I am saving them, and they still have a chance.

The Vaquita has given me so much, and now it is my turn to give back to them.

I know the day the Vaquita dies will make me want to do the same.

It is this fear of loss that has pushed me for years to make a change.

And you may ask, “Why save the Vaquita?”

And my answer will always be, “Why not?”

Poem #30

I am very inspired by this quote that can be found on the ¡Viva Vaquita! website. It is by the Senegalese ecologist Baba Dioum:

 

In the end we will conserve only what we love;
We will love only what we
understand;
We will understand only what we have been taught.

 

It really reflects the whole purpose of my blog: to teach.

Poem #29

*Based on a Mexican legend

Many years ago,
In the land of Mexico,
Some warriors with magic powers
Could shape-shift to and fro.

They used these powers to protect their lands
Of fine women and mariachi bands.
The lives of every villager
Were in these people’s hands.

One of these few men
Had the name Water Coyote.
He would sit down on the grass
And calmly eat peyote.

He could morph into an animal that dwells in the great sea.
Smaller than a man;
Ends with A and starts with V.

Or he could turn to a coyote, with heart, brain, and soul.
And howled to the moon
In a sky as black as coal.

He loved his people above all things,
And got the rewards
That being kind brings.

One day he got out of bed,
An arrow of war sailed overhead.
He rushed home to see a battle—
His men were being killed like cattle.

He fought with his brothers for seven days and nights.
Everyone of them died, and
He ran away with all his might.

Crying the whole way home,
He eventually found his village.
They were very glad to see him,
But he told them of the pillage.

They cried through the night,
Weeping until dawn.
Mourning their lost men
Till they saw the sun.

Coyote then took every last person
Down to the salty ocean.
He gathered smooth blue rocks;
They pondered this commotion.

He placed one stone
‘Neath the tongue of ev’ry boy and girl.
And, one by one, they entered the water,
Transforming in a swirl.

They all became Vaquita,
Their spirits joined their brothers’.
They still live to this day,
But might not live another.

Poem #28

I watched the sun sink in the horizon;

It was time for it to visit other places.

The gulls that squawked all day finally took wing

And roosted on the land that I would dock on shortly.

The lapping waves started to die.

Sweat stopped dripping from my tank top.

I decided to nap before I embarked on my homeward sail,

But before I put my hat over my face,

The fins began to appear.

Poem #27

Like a web,

the net

devoured my soul.

With invisible hands,

the net

gouged my body.

Like a whirlpool,

the net

sucked me in;

stabbing me with knives,

wrapping me up.

I rolled to escape

the net,

but it was no use.

The net

tightened,

suffocating me.

The net

stopped my heart.

Poem #26

Sun made its way

to her back,

Casting a morphing shadow

on the powdery sand.

Bubbles slipped out of her lungs,

dancing to the swirling surface.

She rose up

toward the beckoning sun.

Her blowhole inhaled

the salty air,

Refilling her lungs

like a balloon.

She noticed a ship

in the distance.

Binoculars and cameras faced her,

flashing.

She floated in glory,

admired by the many people.

She was beautiful.

Poem #24

The boat rocked with every rolling current

As I slowly fed my net into the swirling aqua sea.

I watched as the floats drifted off,

Knowing the next time I would touch them,

I would be hauling hundreds of shrimp onto this deck.

 

I leaned against the cabin window,

Arms crossed.

I thought of my beautiful family:

My wife and son.

This was for them.

 

A large mob of gulls swarmed around the boat:

There must have been something in the water.

Spitting tobacco overboard, I began to pull in the net.

Inch by inch,

Foot by foot.

 

It was too late.

She was already gone.

A dead Vaquita lay mangled in the mesh,

Lifeless and dripping in blood from the lacerations.

I sat down on the deck and began to cry.