She is a Jewel of Neptune
Her emerald sea
Tinged in turquoise and blue
Robed in silver white beaches
Crowned by a sunburst sky
Ever shimmering in changing hue
The indigo of sunrise smitten suddenly
By the rising of each new sun
A feast of pinks and purples for the eye
In the early eastern sky
While sunsets
Caress Her in gold and red
And tinge Her waves
A molten silver of the sea
Thus, the Emerald Coast has always been
And She should always be
Bare Native feet and Buccaneer boots
Adventurers, pilgrims, and marching troops
Still trod Her shore as benevolent ghosts
Whilst Neptune rages beneath the Starry Host:
Against the Rape of the Emerald Coast
Graceful seagulls, regal herons
Her winged ambassadors
No longer bejewel
Her virgin white shore
No longer weave their windborne dance
Nor fish their supper
Nor cry out in joy as they explore
No, not even their cries remain
Vanished
Before the coming onslaught
Their absence dares loudly proclaim
Their home defiled, profaned
They are the first to flee
This heinous corporate stain
The stillness in their place is haunting
It speaks a word that can’t be named
We know not their fate
Only their silent absence
And with their leave
The ominous certainty
That we are losing sacred links
That we now stand on the brink
To witness:
The Rape of the Emerald Coast
Ahh! Her beauty!
How she has solaced thousands
With healing balmy winds
Kisses of the sun
And caressing silver waves
Alas
They have abandoned Her now
In Her hour of need
Laughing tourists
With pockets full of shells
And star crossed lovers
Who strolled Her
Moon graced sands
Returned now
To wherever they live
From whence they came
But for a moment
To revel midst her beauty
And to offer Her no more
Than the taking
Of all She had to give
And I arrive to behold
With my own eyes
This sacred ground
Of my home
And I find
I am helpless in great sorrow
For it is only the consolation
That She is not alone
That I am able to lay at Her sullied feet
It is only the tears of a useless observer
That accompany me to witness her tragic defeat
Nevertheless
The consolation I would give her
Arises raw and urgent in my soul
Though it be futile, and wasted
For nothing can protect Her
From their wretched, belching hole
The tar and lapping oil defy and mock
My paltry tear stained offering
Which cannot save Her, nor shield Her
From their foul, and wicked reek
While far out to sea in frantic abandon
The creatures die, as they scramble
Both the strong, and the meek
Still, I search the swirling blue sky
Marbled with gentle white clouds
As though aid may yet come
Upon some celestial wind or wing
It is hope, that I seek
That shimmering
Hue graced sky
Now devoid of birds
Answers in the silence
Of its eternal gaze
Glorious.
A background canvas
Of shimmering blues
One more silent witness to this shame
One more listener to the word which can’t be named
For the Sky is no avenger
We are two, but yet one
Unable to protect Her
We can but witness the beginning of Her end
Silent witnesses, stricken, helpless friends
We look on
And word comes of dolphin
Dying cruel and desperate deaths
Breathing torturous final breaths
Upon Her shores, upon our shores
While great ancient turtles burn alive
In rings of deep sea fires
Set to burn by the corporate whores
As even now, their oil and their slime
Seize their day and in cruel time
Strangle Her once sheltering shore
Like the hand of some evil assailant
The onslaught defiles Her
And every wave, each child of Her breast
Is forced to stain Her even more
Helpless to their filth and greed
She lays mute and exposed
And even now begins to bleed
Beneath a swirling summer sky
And tear filled human eyes
She bleeds in silence
The putrid, flowing fare
Of the Deep Horizon
Binds Her in its snare
For all the wondrous beauty
We once beheld and ever cherished
Each soul now weeps in outraged tears
As sacred ground is perished
From Her turquoise gown
Hemmed in sea silver waves
To Her virgin white shore
Her coves and Her bays
For all those whom She touched
She who gave so many, so much
For all She has shared
There is now
Only this that we can boast:
We beheld the heinous days
Of the Rape of the Emerald Coast
Graceful seagulls, regal herons
Her winged ambassadors
No longer bejewel Her virgin white shore
No longer weave their windborne dance
Nor fish their supper
Nor cry out in joy as they explore
No, not even their cries remain
While far out to sea in frantic abandon
The creatures die, as they scramble
Both the strong, and the meek
There is no haven, no hiding
From their Hell Spawn of the deep
And word comes of dolphin
Dying cruel and desperate deaths
Breathing torturous final breaths
Upon Her shores, upon our shores
While great ancient turtles burn alive
In rings of deep sea fires
Set to burn by the corporate whores
Men in suits and ties
Corporate greed and corporate lies
Have wrought this crime before our eyes
To these, I charge the word which can’t be named
To these, I lay every well earned stroke of blame
She is a Jewel of Neptune
Her emerald sea
Tinged in turquoise and blue
Robed in silver white beaches
Crowned by a sunburst sky
Ever shimmering in changing hue
The indigo of sunrise smitten suddenly
By the rising of each new sun
A feast of pinks and purples for the eye
In the early eastern sky
While sunsets
Caress Her in gold and red
And tinge Her waves
A molten silver of the sea
Thus, the Emerald Coast has always been
And She should always be
Bare Native feet and Buccaneer boots
Adventurers, pilgrims, and marching troops
Watchful eyes, weep from sacred posts
Now the living mourn, midst ancient ghosts
For Hell hath been wrought on our Emerald Sea
Where Death boldly stalks
And in vain, creatures flee
Pray Heaven above for the dying and dead
For our shores grow blackened
Our sea turns red
Whilst Neptune rages beneath the Starry Host:
Damn the Rape of the Emerald Coast!
©2010, Kathleen MacLintock
“The Rape of the Emerald Coast is based upon the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill, the disaster that struck the Southern states in the Gulf of Mexico in April 20, 2010, and actively continued to dump millions of gallons of oil into the Gulf until December 17, 2010. Total environmental impact is as of yet unknown, as scientists announce as recently as early spring of 2011, that the sea floor is still covered in oil, and that baby dolphins are begining to wash up dead upon the shores, apparently impacted by remaining oil in the Gulf, in spite of “repair” of the leak months before.
