peel back the layers like peeling the flesh off a grape
peeling back the veil, after shaking off the dust of ages
peeling back the layers flesh of past forgotten lives
feel the flesh the pulp the veins pulsating with invincible blood
peeling back to a time when we lived walked with gods
when demi gods walked bleed bled fought beside among us
stories rose fall in myths legends about our warrior lives
when we lived by flickering torch lights by nights after day deeds
civilizations rose fell by our thrusting sword blades cutting slices
into a young raw world as we conquered dark corners of our world
sailed to all horizons left footsteps in time brave hearts must follow
lives civilizations are crushed beneath feet like squashed grapes
lives peeled squashed with blood pumping in veins swallowing lives
passions will rule lives creating or destroying choose weapons or words
what a feast for birds scavengers feasting on eyes of slain armies
behold mighty lions savage unleashed haunt in telling strength prides
behold hyenas hungry consume bones like deserts swallow rivers
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
When ancient people stomped the earth, the fulcrum of history rested on heroic individuals. Those who rose to the occasion lived at great scale. Now the fulcrum of history rests on military-industrial complexes; the system decides things for us, and we live in corners of it.
Living in corners reminds me of the poem 'Mind Of Artist Makes Marks Of Meaning'. From corners painter poet musician may work, but art enters the light and spreads light; a love of nature inspiring art and not the military industry, is where the hope of humanity lies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's wonderful that you praise our forebears. Their struggles traced a stepwise course to civilization, so they were fighting to establish the stability of lives like ours. Hence we can peel back history to arrive at the raw, struggle-filled lives that brought us here.