The animals went in two by two, Hurrah! Hurrah!
The elephant and the kangaroo, Hurrah! Hurrah!
The animals went in two by two,
The elephant and the kangaroo,
And they all went in-to the Ark for to get out of the rain,
And they all went in-to the Ark for to get out of the rain.
Robert D. Singleton
"We must join forces everywhere to stop the slaughter of elephants and rhinos. They feel pain, they know suffering. We must stop people from buying ivory."
Dr.Jane Goodall"
Over the Past 25 Years, the Wholesale Price of Ivory in China has risen from Five Dollars to 2,100 Dollars.
Between 35,000 –50,000 African Elephants are poached each year and wild animal poaching has become the fourth most lucrative Illegal Trade in the World, generating between 5-20 BILLION Dollars annually!
Three Rhinos are brutally poached for their horns every day.
Over 1,000 Rangers Have Been killed defending wildlife in the Past 10 Years.
(Facts taken from One Green Planet)
The truth is, that Elephant and Rhino poaching is now funding terrorism.
Illegal wildlife trafficking has become one of the world’s top criminal activities, categorized along with arms, drugs and human trafficking.
Rhino poaching is being carried out by criminal gangs linked to extremist groups with highly sophisticated connections with multi-national terrorist networks. The Trafficking gangs are profiting billions of dollars a year, leaving devastation in their wake to both wildlife and local communities. They have become a threat to global security.
According to the US International Conservation Caucus Foundation (ICCF), Al-Shabaab, the terrorist group responsible for the killing of 68 people in the Kenyan Westgate shopping mall, has been funding its activities through ivory and Rhino poaching.
‘’Ivory and rhino horn are gaining popularity as a source of income for some of Africa’s most notorious armed groups, including Somalia’s al-Shabab, the Lord's Resistance Army (L.R.A.), and Darfur's Janjaweed’’.
The ICCF adds that ‘’Wildlife products have become a substantial source of income for terrorist organizations in Africa.’’
President Obama described the issue as a "Major threat to national security", and established a task force to clamp down on the criminal networks. Hillary Clinton has also made a “Call to Action “stating that,
‘’Trafficking has become more organized, more lucrative, more widespread, and more dangerous than ever before’’.
The illegal trade of other endangered species such as Tigers, Pangolins and Turtles has added to the blood -shed, and now there are more Tigers in American backyards than in the wild.
Approximately 28,300 Freshwater Turtles are traded EACH DAY, and around 30% of Asian Elephants are now in captivity.
Dex Kotze, Strategist for the Global March for Elephants and Rhinos states,
"The unending slaughter of Africa's endangered wildlife is amputating a balancing branch of humanity. Unless the world's political elite establishes universal, thought provoking legislation and enforcement thereof, species on the brink of extinction will be lost for future generations. In particular, China and Africa stand at the cusp of the most historic leadership embarrassment of civilization."
For Millennium, Elephants have been enslaved; in India during the period of British Imperialism, in Asia by the farmers and loggers using them as living tractors and bulldozers, and by the circus industry.
The traditional way to train elephants in many countries was to terrorize them as babies, so they were afraid of humans. Baby elephants were captured, and tortured with sticks embedded with nails, and hot irons until they submitted to tasks.
Despite the outcry against ivory poaching, ruthless killing for Elephant Tusks has persisted, and now it has reached crisis point.
Like slaves Elephants have longed for freedom. The personification of the Elephants dream of freedom is expressed in the next poem,
The Elephant.
By Rudyard Kipling.
I will remember what I was. I am sick of rope and chain--
I will remember my old strength and all my forest-affairs.
I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugarcane.
I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs.
I will go out until the day, until the morning break,
Out to the winds 'untainted kiss,
The waters' clean caress.
I will forget my ankle-ring and snap my picket-stake.
I will revisit my lost loves, and playmates master less!
In Vietnam, the demand for Rhino horn has skyrocketed, where it is used not only as a status symbol, but also as a supposed miracle cure for cancer.
By purchasing these illegal wildlife products, tourists and consumers need to realize that not only are contributing to the decline of a species, but they are also contributing to the murders of rangers who devote their lives to protecting the endangered wildlife. In addition, they are helping fund the activities of extremist groups responsible for further killing innocent adults and children.
(Sources;)
https://www.savetherhino.org/support_us/donate/become_a_member
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Imagine if the RHINO killed us. By Josh T
Imagine if the rhino killed us
What would that be like?
Imagine if our ears were traditional in Chinese medicine
What would that be like?
Imagine if they took our ears away
What would that be like?
Imagine if they took our home away
What would that be like?
Imagine if rhinos shot us
What would that be like?
Imagine.
https://smallstepsconservation.wordpress.com/2013/03/24/imagine-if-the-rhino-killed-us-by-josh-t/
"We have lost the ancient wisdom that considers each decision on how it will affect future generations. We have to get back to thinking in a different way, beyond the easy political wins."
Dr Jane Goodall
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I found this next poem when searching for subject matter for this week’s blog.
The poem, “Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!” is featured in a blog called Mercer’s poems, and he has a Facebook page also by that name. It expresses perfectly the sentiment behind the atrocity and greed of Poaching, and the ultimate rape of the earth in the name of “growth”.
Dethroned kings lay prostrate, or mounted like trophies.
Their flame-hued coats stained a murky crimson,
And their once piercing gaze rendered an abyssal void.
The black stripes once ornately adorned
Now twisted music notes, conducting an orchestral dirge.
A sorrowful hymn; but weep do too few.
The salty tears of creatures that fear
Their peril could not cause the seas to swell
So much as man’s small, yet infinite hand.
A land once emerald and fertile
Now slate-grey, taller than trees
And swampy with the vile emissions of greed.
All in the name of ‘growth’ but,
What grows?
Somber cries of “TIMBER!” tear
Through the misty forest air.
A patch of habitat now bare
No homes remain for beauties rare.
Farmers fear for herded meat.
No surrender, no retreat.
Staccato, percussive rifles beat
Another ‘pests’ flesh flayed un-eat
Poachers long to claim the head.
For those with trouble in the bed
Anachronistic aphrodisiac it’s said,
But lies truthful beauty dead.
Time and tide continue by
Upon the wings of rarest butterfly.
Elephants will sound not their trumpets high,
To alert our gaze, and draw our eye
To their, and others saying bye;
Silence only. Time is nigh.
Too short to grieve or weep and cry;
The Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh my!
Mercer’s poems
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elegy on Tiger by Johnathan Swift
Her dead lady's joy and comfort,
Who departed this life
The last day of March, 1727:
To the great joy of Bryan
That his antagonist is gone.
And is poor Tiger laid at last so low?
O day of sorrow! -Day of dismal woe!
Bloodhounds, or spaniels, lap-dogs, 'tis all one,
When Death once whistles -snap! -away they're gone.
See how she lies, and hangs her lifeless ears,
Bathed in her mournful lady's tears!
Dumb is her throat, and waggles is her tail,
Doomed to the grave, to Death's eternal jail!
In a few days this lovely creature must
First turn to clay, and then be changed to dust.
That mouth which used its lady's mouth to lick
Must yield its jaw-bones to the worms to pick.
That mouth which used the partridge-wing to eat
Must give its palate to the worms to eat.
Methinks I see her now in Charon's boat
Bark at the Stygian fish which round it float;
While Cerberus, alarmed to hear the sound,
Makes Hell's wide concave bellow all around.
She sees him not, but hears him through the dark,
And valiantly returns him bark for bark.
But now she trembles -though a ghost, she dreads
To see a dog with three large yawning heads.
Spare her, you hell-hounds, case your frightful paws,
And let poor Tiger 'scape your furious jaws.
Let her go safe to the Elysian plains,
Where Hylax barks among the Mantuan swains;
There let her frisk about her new-found love:
She loved a dog when she was here above.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jamie Joseph, Founder of savingthewild.com / said while on assignment in Kariba:-
"My weapon is the written word, and my battlefield is the page, and every time I connect with one of my readers the call of the wild travels just a little bit further. And I would walk a hundred miles and write ten thousand words if I could just bring back that one dead elephant bull that now haunts me. He haunts me, and yet at the same time he compels me to push on through the darkness, wherever it may take me. Anyone that has spent time amongst Africa's wild things will understand; the pure poetry of nature, the awe and the longing to be close to something so much greater than what we are."
“My weapon is the written word, and my battlefield is the page”….These are strong words…but. Before long, it will be too late . We must act now and spread the word .Feel free to follow the links on this page, and do what you can to share this knowledge.
In his most famous poem,The Tyger, William Blake describes something at once beautiful and terrifying. It addresses the question we all ask at some point--in regard to ourselves, and our planet: "How did this happen? "
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
William Blake.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The traditional way to train elephants in many countries was to terrorize them as babies, so they were afraid of humans. Baby elephants were captured, and tortured with sticks embedded with nails, and hot irons until they submitted to tasks.
Despite the outcry against ivory poaching, ruthless killing for Elephant Tusks has persisted, and now it has reached crisis point.
Like slaves Elephants have longed for freedom. The personification of the Elephants dream of freedom is expressed in the next poem,
The Elephant.
By Rudyard Kipling.
I will remember what I was. I am sick of rope and chain--
I will remember my old strength and all my forest-affairs.
I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugarcane.
I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs.
I will go out until the day, until the morning break,
Out to the winds 'untainted kiss,
The waters' clean caress.
I will forget my ankle-ring and snap my picket-stake.
I will revisit my lost loves, and playmates master less!
In Vietnam, the demand for Rhino horn has skyrocketed, where it is used not only as a status symbol, but also as a supposed miracle cure for cancer.
By purchasing these illegal wildlife products, tourists and consumers need to realize that not only are contributing to the decline of a species, but they are also contributing to the murders of rangers who devote their lives to protecting the endangered wildlife. In addition, they are helping fund the activities of extremist groups responsible for further killing innocent adults and children.
(Sources;)
https://www.savetherhino.org/support_us/donate/become_a_member
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Imagine if the RHINO killed us. By Josh T
Imagine if the rhino killed us
What would that be like?
Imagine if our ears were traditional in Chinese medicine
What would that be like?
Imagine if they took our ears away
What would that be like?
Imagine if they took our home away
What would that be like?
Imagine if rhinos shot us
What would that be like?
Imagine.
https://smallstepsconservation.wordpress.com/2013/03/24/imagine-if-the-rhino-killed-us-by-josh-t/
"We have lost the ancient wisdom that considers each decision on how it will affect future generations. We have to get back to thinking in a different way, beyond the easy political wins."
Dr Jane Goodall
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I found this next poem when searching for subject matter for this week’s blog.
The poem, “Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!” is featured in a blog called Mercer’s poems, and he has a Facebook page also by that name. It expresses perfectly the sentiment behind the atrocity and greed of Poaching, and the ultimate rape of the earth in the name of “growth”.
Dethroned kings lay prostrate, or mounted like trophies.
Their flame-hued coats stained a murky crimson,
And their once piercing gaze rendered an abyssal void.
The black stripes once ornately adorned
Now twisted music notes, conducting an orchestral dirge.
A sorrowful hymn; but weep do too few.
The salty tears of creatures that fear
Their peril could not cause the seas to swell
So much as man’s small, yet infinite hand.
A land once emerald and fertile
Now slate-grey, taller than trees
And swampy with the vile emissions of greed.
All in the name of ‘growth’ but,
What grows?
Somber cries of “TIMBER!” tear
Through the misty forest air.
A patch of habitat now bare
No homes remain for beauties rare.
Farmers fear for herded meat.
No surrender, no retreat.
Staccato, percussive rifles beat
Another ‘pests’ flesh flayed un-eat
Poachers long to claim the head.
For those with trouble in the bed
Anachronistic aphrodisiac it’s said,
But lies truthful beauty dead.
Time and tide continue by
Upon the wings of rarest butterfly.
Elephants will sound not their trumpets high,
To alert our gaze, and draw our eye
To their, and others saying bye;
Silence only. Time is nigh.
Too short to grieve or weep and cry;
The Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh my!
Mercer’s poems
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elegy on Tiger by Johnathan Swift
Her dead lady's joy and comfort,
Who departed this life
The last day of March, 1727:
To the great joy of Bryan
That his antagonist is gone.
And is poor Tiger laid at last so low?
O day of sorrow! -Day of dismal woe!
Bloodhounds, or spaniels, lap-dogs, 'tis all one,
When Death once whistles -snap! -away they're gone.
See how she lies, and hangs her lifeless ears,
Bathed in her mournful lady's tears!
Dumb is her throat, and waggles is her tail,
Doomed to the grave, to Death's eternal jail!
In a few days this lovely creature must
First turn to clay, and then be changed to dust.
That mouth which used its lady's mouth to lick
Must yield its jaw-bones to the worms to pick.
That mouth which used the partridge-wing to eat
Must give its palate to the worms to eat.
Methinks I see her now in Charon's boat
Bark at the Stygian fish which round it float;
While Cerberus, alarmed to hear the sound,
Makes Hell's wide concave bellow all around.
She sees him not, but hears him through the dark,
And valiantly returns him bark for bark.
But now she trembles -though a ghost, she dreads
To see a dog with three large yawning heads.
Spare her, you hell-hounds, case your frightful paws,
And let poor Tiger 'scape your furious jaws.
Let her go safe to the Elysian plains,
Where Hylax barks among the Mantuan swains;
There let her frisk about her new-found love:
She loved a dog when she was here above.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jamie Joseph, Founder of savingthewild.com / said while on assignment in Kariba:-
"My weapon is the written word, and my battlefield is the page, and every time I connect with one of my readers the call of the wild travels just a little bit further. And I would walk a hundred miles and write ten thousand words if I could just bring back that one dead elephant bull that now haunts me. He haunts me, and yet at the same time he compels me to push on through the darkness, wherever it may take me. Anyone that has spent time amongst Africa's wild things will understand; the pure poetry of nature, the awe and the longing to be close to something so much greater than what we are."
“My weapon is the written word, and my battlefield is the page”….These are strong words…but. Before long, it will be too late . We must act now and spread the word .Feel free to follow the links on this page, and do what you can to share this knowledge.
In his most famous poem,The Tyger, William Blake describes something at once beautiful and terrifying. It addresses the question we all ask at some point--in regard to ourselves, and our planet: "How did this happen? "
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
William Blake.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copy A of Blake's original printing of The Tyger, c. 1795. Copy A is currently held by the British Museum
Please spread the word .Thank you Womensvoice1
RSS Feed
