On the Wings of Hope : Prose

And what of the love, honesty, justice, after all – there is no demand for these? But how immense must be a demand for something different ! For all these modern healers with fiery spheres in their hands and gilded nimbuses over their heads, promising wonders of healing in the next dozens of read pages. For all this infinite, as it seems, stream of “fantasy”, riveted day by day by newly born authors in their attempts to glorify own names – it’s a pity, however, that a plot from these books becomes forgotten after a week or so, and except for a plot in a dry rest there is only a philosophy of “revenge and destroy” kind that remains. For all these political investigations, speeches, trends, brands, monographs of the ones-in-power … as if it were not politicians who have plunged this world into a chaos of wars and mutual hatred of nations ! For all these new opuses of “theologians”, who have transformed words of Christ ad His apostles to service their self-interest, and letter after a letter, treatment after a treatment darking and polluting their original primary meaning ! And, certainly, we must not forget the books of about-computers subject, which become outdated in a year or two – just a remarkable source of income on a prime cost to a price ratio. Truly, is it such a good saltwort ? But whether there is much salt in it ?

But even when someone comes to your literary magazines with a request to publish something – not for himself, without money, for those reading your papers – you prefer to keep death silence. Yes, it doesn’t interest you, it’s not in a format of your publishing houses. Who will ever read such things ? Probably, only those who have become indifferent to ones such as you.

Well, continue to sell rather than publish. Continue to promote and enslave new authors. Continue to give birth to best-sellers, moving with a mainstream crowds. All of this won’t help you any longer, not anymore. And if once for the down work of building a great wall people who have flown above it won’t even shake your hands – be not surprised.

18.09.2012

An unofficial appeal to the politicians

You address I today, power usurpers. My appeal today is for you, ones trampling people with your unjust heel, oh over proud ones. My word is for you, mother Earth on hundreds pieces dismembering, like a killed trophy. My message is for you, wars provoking and world with blood of nations fertilizing. Mighty ones of this world yourself considering, possessing the right to decide human fates yourself considering. Word of mine is for you, politicians of this world.

Like a dirt from human waste emerge you upwards, not sinking, in waters of national ignorance bathing. To the power you go with methods bloody, crafty and cruel, over the heads of people much more worthy going. Slyness you have already learned in that way of regression long ago, considering it ascension unreasonably. To deceit others you have learned millennia ago in the way mentioned of self-interest and human excess. Tyranny and cruelty long have you accepted and adopted, a way to the tops lowest with your elbows punching. Whether much does that knowledge and skill of yours cost for the world eternal, I wonder? Thirty silver coins, and never more.

Laws to serve your self-interest you do write. Flaunt with imaginary bragging you do, as if for world nations truly serving - but suffer those nations still under your rule. For how many times already have you been thrown from those illusory earth thrones, whether you remember? Nothing you do learn from faults of your forerunners! Rob you the nations, to you entrusted, red caviar over both your cheeks stocking. On the graves of children and old men you keep dancing, of the economic growth keep chatting simultaneously. Of the cultural revival you keep babbling, into debauchery with fornication people plunging continuously. Not to revive countries you have come, but to suck last juices, regaling, instead. Deadly poison that moisture is, yet its effect is delayed for a bit. And not a Socrat you are to drink that poison and not to writhe - one way or another to do that you’ll have soon enough.

The uniform world you have broken off and on the pieces torn apart, human foolishness and hatred having exploited. Now pit people of various countries you do, profit own from wars mentioned gathering and counting up. How to unite people are you going? On the basis of hatred and rage only probably. Of patriotism you talk profusely, men sending on slaughters freely and eagerly. Will you desire to go in front lines on massacres mentioned soon, oh peaceful ones, to own country devoted? Terrified you’ll be to do that, and that you know perfectly.