Prose Poem: The Hungry Ones

in poetry •  9 months ago

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He said: Those buildings hinder me from living. With their sharp spires, with their high roofs they block the horizon. They hinder me, said he.

And the buildings have collapsed, every single one; they crumbled like dust, and the horizon with the boundless sky has been opened to his gaze. And he was told: Look, we’ve destroyed all these buildings for you. Live, they are no more.

And one died, and another one began constructing new buildings. He said: These buildings help me live. With their sharp spires, with their high roofs they bring heaven closer to me. They help me live, said he.

But the buildings weren’t reaching the sky. They were growing old, and no new floors could be added anymore, and yet it was a pity to demolish them. At least one could see the horizon from them. But he had long forgotten about the horizon, he was exhausted, he had lost his memory in this endless construction, he had long forgotten the horizon.

And there was a third one who liked wandering among the old buildings. He never stopped, going now left, now right, and if he disliked a street, he turned into another one, and many streets appeared before him, and he always chose the one he wanted. The heaven was helping him, he didn’t believe in the horizon and never turned back, but I’ve glanced into his destiny and have been horrified.

If only those obeying the dream learned to pave their way.
If only those to whom truth was revealed were abundant with mercy.
If only lambs mastered sword, and doves the wisdom of snakes.
If only those to whom much has been given know that blessed are the hungry.


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I'm a blogger, web developer, designer, entrepreneur, world citizen and a father to eight. I write about productivity, writing, web development, travel, and crypto. If you've enjoyed this post, please consider a resteem & upvote, and follow me at @vitkolesnik.
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For me, in my first read, this is a look at the timeless battle between man constructing our own controllable habitats, and our relationship with nature and the world.

It's as if all three presented here are struggling to find happiness in their different approaches: the first in searching for the horizon by dismantling; the second in building their haven; and the third in their aimless wandering of what the first two dedicated their lives to.

Learning that this piece reflected three different attitudes towards communism lent me a new light to the reading. As someone who has never been to areas of the world where communism was adopted at a national scale, I can't possibly fully comprehend the piece.

That said, I'm so grateful to have been given the chance to experience a bit of these three view through your writing, @vitkolesnik.

And that that last line, Vitaly, what a banger - it's so perfect!
What a way to finish this piece; a great read.

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Thank you for the thoughtful comment!

The three attitudes to communism were:

  1. Oppose and reject, get tired of it.
  2. Accept or try building a "communism with a human face".
  3. Ignore and try to live a full life in the communist environment.
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much appreciate the added insight, my friend.

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Hi, great post, have followed you

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You are a supernaturally fast reader then.

Your posts are golden.. yeah... i think writing might have its advantages as well as ... thanks for sharing...

What a lovely poem. I love this so much. Please I can't wait to read more of it from you.
Thanks

vitkolesnik(59) building of arts