A gadget weaves, like nylon thread,
At home to rot, its purpose dead,
Forgetting joys of face-to-face,
And leaving hearts in empty space.


In Russian:

Гаджет вяжет словно нить
Из капрона: дома гнить,
Забывая очной встречи
Радость, душу тем калеча.

The Shame of Earth

Half-thoughts, half-sighs, and twilight minds,
Whipped by rage the system blinds.
Twitched by lies, their nerves collapse —
The end result? A mad relapse.

A sturdy ******, fierce and bold,
Becomes the wall the masses hold.
This world is vile, deranged, obscene —
If you’re sane, you don’t fit in.

The sane are freaks — there’s just a few.
But madmen? Countless through and through.
It’s all gone rotten, can’t you see?
This mob’s the shame of Earth to me.



---------------------



Mob of Shame

Madness rules, the truth is banned —
Cowards cheer and liars stand.
Sanity is exile’s fee.
Earth’s disgrace? This herd I see.



---------------------



Cohesion

"Imhoff's Law:
Every bureaucratic organization resembles a septic tank —
the biggest chunks always float to the top."
— Arthur Bloch, Murphy’s Law

The **** unites — and rises
In SEWAGE, thick and proud.
Here, failure’s the disguises
For fools who aren’t loud.

If you're a baseborn fighter
With filth inside your grin —
You're rising with the lighters.
But honest? Sane within?

Then rot between the layers,
Choke on the stinking fog.
In SEWAGE, hope betrays you —
Unless you are a dog.



---------------------



Top ****

The filth floats up — that’s how it works.
The honest drown. The top is jerks.
This tank rewards the loudest rot.
Be clean? Then rot — or join the lot.




---------------------



Decadence of Armageddon

"Left! Now right!" — the fools obey,
Ranks are tight — no room, no way.
Brutes oppress with rabid might,
Spewing madness day and night,

Madness fed to them as law.
No escape, no guiding ray —
**** will grind and gnash with awe.
In this world, the Mind must stay

Locked within and sealed from rot.
This is it — the end is near.
Years are numbered. Like it or not,
You're doomed if you bow to fear.

If you bow to braying cattle,
Make a cringe in vain pretense —
You're a cub on melting floe now.
Ice is breaking. DECADENCE.



---------------------



Melt with the Herd

You bowed — you're done. The end’s begun.
The ice is cracking. Nowhere to run.
The mob howls lies, the sane fall dead.
This is Decadence — go ahead.



---------------------



Poisoned Books

The "Water Cycle" tale they teach —
Sounds tidy, simple, in their speech.
No questions asked by minds asleep,
But seen with truth — it's shallow, cheap.

Earth breathes — and clouds arise within,
Not dropped like cargo from the spin.
Nature is wiser, subtly grand,
But fools won't grasp what she has planned.

No textbook law, no sterile chart
Can teach the soul or train the heart.
The inhuman who rule the day
Want Mechanism — their decay.

They dull the sense, destroy the thread
That makes life conscious, not half-dead.
They lie again, distort and twist —
Each "science" forged to feed the mist.

The soul is poisoned by their creed.
And if the soul no longer leads,
Then all your learning, all your wish is
Buried deep in... Poisoned Books — fictitious.



---------------------



Befuddled books


Mob of Shame

The filth floats up — that’s how it works.
The honest drown. The top is jerks.
This tank rewards the loudest rot.
Be clean? Then rot — or join the lot.


Top ****

The filth floats up — that’s how it goes.
The worst are crowned. The rest just froze.
The ones with guts are left to drown.
The **** stands tall. The brave go down.


Melt with the Herd

You bowed — you're done. The end’s begun.
The ice is cracking. Nowhere to run.
The mob howls lies, the sane fall dead.
This is Decadence — go ahead.


The Books Are Poison

They teach you lies, they sell you looks —
But Truth won’t bleed from poisoned books.
**** soul, **** mind — that’s how it’s done.
And once it’s done — they’ve won.


Mechanized Mind

They feed you gears instead of skies,
Replace the soul with coded lies.
Perception dies — machine obeys.
The Book’s the cage. Now crawl. And praise.




---------------------



Through Mistakes and Falls

Through errors, falls, we make our way,
But in our minds, the course holds sway.
In just a few regrets, it seems,
A crushing load of broken dreams.



---------------------



The Poet Is "NO!!!"

The poet is "NO!!!"
When the ****** world
Is lost in madness (its idol curled).
Madness is total.
The poet is NERVE.
If evil’s victories are endless,
And traitors’ ranks are vast,
Burn yourself —
Then, smoking,
Shouting, rough,
You’ll save your Soul
In the crowd
Of fascist thralls.
Let slaves be everywhere,
Shout "NO!" to them,
If you say "yes,"
You’re one of them,
In Total Evil,
Multiplying madness.



---------------------



Futility, Sickness, Uselessness

Futility, sickness, pointlessness,
Barrenness, madness. Clarity’s
Rare, like Pure Souls, whose light
Can crush the lie — listen to the Soul’s insight.

If the Mind is subject to the Spirit,
You’ll slay all fear, leave madness lit
Only in the world outside —
Within, you’ll raise Reason, cast aside.

The world’s rationality — a mere condition,
Its ugliness, its gloom, its bleak admission.
Reason’s fragments — multiply them, too,
With thought or verse, let them renew.



---------------------



Palette

Gray and white? Black and gray!
How they mock with skies of blue.
The paint of black, in skillful play,
The CREATURES pour — to reach the glue

Of the abyss, their goal, their task.
The work of sinking never rests.
In this world of selling fools,
Black paint stinks — it's their protest.



---------------------



The Fool and the Mob

The fool, with chaos, all around,
He lets it loose — no thought, no sound.
The useless, wild, and savage crew,
A tool for attack, that’s all they do.

Who strikes? The filth — a loathsome breed,
They turn all things to rot and greed.
The world is sunk — so deep, so low,
It’s fallen past what we can know.



---------------------



Perspectives and Breakthroughs

"Love" with fury,
Jealousy’s bane.
A louse on a platter —
Life’s bitter strain.

Friendship’s dust,
Truth’s lost, they say.
The CREATURES rush
To spread their sway.

Madness is tainted,
It’s everywhere.
The people enslaved
In false despair.

Perspectives?
None at all.
But BREAKTHROUGHS?
They’ll come, to call.

They’ll tremble —
"Judgment day!"
The evil bend not —
They’ll find their way.



---------------------



The War Goes On

The war rages, yet the true foe
Is hidden from our sight again:
In provocations, it does grow,
In strife, it keeps the world in pain.




---------------------



"People," or The Phantasmagoria of the Little World

A writhing mass, the worms they breed,
By snakes oppressed, in twisted speed.
Yet the cannibal can surely say:
"You're human, though the path’s astray,

But all will be well in the end."
So generations of the worm,
Through war’s storm, again they’ll bend,
While feasting, they’ll rework the term.

For feasts, the false diseases thrive —
The "Spanish flu" — a present blight.
If worms are whole, then they survive,
Aiding the digestion of the blight.




---------------------



Mother Cat Watches Over

Mother cat, she guards her kin,
Protects her kittens, keeps them in.
Not like those vile, base creatures —
Many beasts, but minds are features

Of consumption, like in *****’s fall.
The world is like a cancer’s thrall:
It rots the souls, and soon, it’s clear,
The minds dissolve, and disappear.




---------------------



Naked Ideas

Naked ideas,
The ugly dare not send,
Into a mad world to confide:
"Speak of ‘love,’ the rest, pretend!"




---------------------



You Think It’s Hard?

Think it’s hard
To calculate the rot?
If all is false —
It pushes forth a lot!

That rot, it spreads
All 'round you here.
A miracle — it’s not dead,
If Soul remains, though filled with fear.




---------------------



Global Warming

Ancient, dusty trash —
"The mind" of any crowd;
Beasts crave the brash,
The vile, the proud.

Minions of the beasts —
The brutes will lead,
Step off the tracks,
And they’ll erase you with speed.

The brute loves the junk,
Ancient and new,
The filth that’s sunk,
Propaganda’s brew.

"A beacon" for the swine —
"The truth of the age."
The world of the vile,
Of lies, of rage.

Trash has taken root —
It’s time for the bin.
That moment has come —
The sun burns all sin.




---------------------




The Beast's Gold and Power

The beast installed gold and power
As the highest price. Well, that's the end—
The beasts have won. Is soul worth less?
They lie more, and pay is slight again.

Less pay, the lies will shrink
The costs of evil. Save it all,
For evil feeds on fools who think
Their lies will lift them when they fall.




---------------------



Tolerance

The wise offend the senseless fools,
While freedom weighs on those in chains;
It crushes all who cling to rules,
And binds the hearts that still remain.




---------------------




The Circus in the Latrine

"Justice" like a circus show,
"Law" as flexible as clay—
The "strong" can slip, the "weak" will go,
And power always finds its way.

You may slip, or rise on high,
The rod’s bent low, and silence reigns,
The "judges" meek, as rats may cry,
The world’s a latrine, full of stains.

What ****** taught, the filth still spreads,
Where courts and justice fall away.
Honor’s lost, and reason’s dead—
Only skin and bones remain to sway.

The filthy are the crowd, you see—
That’s why the world’s a stinking pit,
Where creatures thrive, and all agree,
To call this mess a "world"—we quit.




---------------------




Horses...

Ponies —
horses,
And the fool
A brute force of fascist rule.




---------------------




Kremlbot

Kremlbot isn’t a fool—
There’s a method to the game!
To poison fools with lies so cruel
Is an honor to his name.

"Honor’s mine!" — Lucifer
Leads his legions to the deep,
To the hellish realms they stir—
The bot will sink, and there they'll sleep.




---------------------




Moloch

Bots speak in their coded slang?
The manuals are tossed aside.
Soon they’ll change, a new phrase rang—
A language for years to guide.

A camp for all to march and tread,
New speak, a criminal tongue.
The red cross on a flag of dread?
To fool the weak, to keep them strung.

"Care" is the bait, a false charade,
The Führer loves his faithful kin.
For mindless fools, the "doctor" paid,
A cop's the light, not one to spin.

So many fools, the forecast’s grim—
The world so vile, so faint and thin,
Now turns to dust, its beauty lost,
And bows before the Moloch’s cost.




---------------------




The Stubborn Halfwit

The stubborn fool, the pride of earth?
A shame, not worth its weight in gold!
He guards his skin, for all its worth—
A thief of moments, bought and sold.

This care is endless, no time to think—
For everywhere, it’s bound to be,
A hunger woven in the link
With chains of slavish misery.

He finds comfort in his cage,
His den, his car, all built for him.
"Normal" now are lies, fear, rage—
A style of life so grim, so dim.

To keep your skin all smooth and bright,
Betray your soul—that’s how they rise,
The path of fools, of endless blight—
From these dimwits, all the lies.



---------------------



Creatures in Mari

Lies and fear,
They brew with dread.
With lies they steer,
And crush with lead.




---------------------



9/11 2001

How to install a watchful eye?
Blow up the towers from within!
Then, with stench and laughter high,
Quietly finish freedom’s spin.

A million "pindos" fled in haste,
Realizing what they had seen.
Like in the SS, they were placed,
Today, the creatures reign supreme.

The filthy beasts will never cease,
Their cruelty growing day by day.
"Civilization" lost its peace—
Only Fear and Shame remain, they say.




---------------------



Kapsho

If all the horses are dead,
But death itself retreats,
Blind and deaf, they’ve fled—
Life’s a grave where silence meets.

A chasm, yes, a chasm deep,
But not all can embrace
This knowledge, sharp and steep—
For ****** of power hold the place.

Here they celebrate "life"
Amidst the graveyard’s gloom.
Buddy, wake up—strife
Is not easy to resume!

Spiritual life,
Replaces the madness in stride,
In the midst of mourning’s knife,
A shift will come to guide:

The death camp rots,
But brighter yet,
The sun will scorch
And purge the debt.

It’s good, you see—
A catharsis arrives.
And THIS "KAPSHO"
Will live through time’s archives.

Its belly heavy, its mind a weight,
The sails are filled with winds of fear,
Оn course towards a dire fate.
Reduce the load,
Thin out the mind,
Lower the sails,
And seek to find
A different goal—
A distant blue,
The Soul will yearn for that horizon true.


In Russian:

Корабль "Эго" на пути в порт "Напасти"

Пузо — грузом.
Ум — балластом.
Страх — ветрилом.
Путь — к Напастям.
Груз уменьшить,
Ум утоньшить,
Парус свесить
И приметить
Цель иную —
Голубую
ДАЛЬ. По ней Душа тоскует.

Politics — the iceberg's tip:
Beneath, the beasts in shadows slip.
Let's delve into this vile abyss,
If your mind's not lost in the mist.

Three-quarters sick, mere human scraps,
Once people, now in mental traps.
Poisoned by the filth they fed,
Described herein — absorb what's said.

Trust your gut, let instinct guide,
Let it be your truth's allied.
Let's begin, dig bit by bit,
But verify — don't just submit.

Propaganda lays it thick,
Politics its puppet's stick.
Mainstream howlers chant and cry,
Their wails designed to stupefy.

Politicians — jesters all,
Screen-born gnomes, grotesque and small.
Bound by commands from deep below,
The iceberg's base, where filth does flow.

Pyramids are known to all,
But we describe the deepest fall.
The more corrupt, the deeper hid,
In excrement, their deeds amid.

Numbers shrink as depths increase,
At the bottom, dangers cease.
They wage their wars with proxy hands,
Traitors lead their vile commands.

How did we become such fools,
Led by **** from prison schools?
The world is woven with paradox,
The ShitIceberg pyramid mocks.

In madness, words are twisted round,
When minds are clogged, no truth is found.
Clogged with lies and fear and grime,
Instilled in us since early time.

This filth impedes our quest for light,
Instead, we aid the utmost blight.
Decay has reached its final stage:
All serve the Foul Goat's rampage.

That hybrid goat, a distant tale,
Now propagandists we unveil.
In jackals, souls have fled the scene,
Their reason gone, their minds unclean.

The filth's agenda they convey,
Their masters' lies they must obey.
Once their deceit had weight and might,
Now it's nonsense, void of light.

They've outdone Goebbels, ****** too,
In lies, in hate, in evil's brew.
Putler serves the Goat Supreme,
Propaganda's pawn in the scheme.

But soon this pawn will meet its fate,
The mad world ends, albeit late.
The demon king will checkmate all,
This grotesque realm is set to fall.

But back to those vile mouthpieces,
They lie with ease, their shame increases.
They spew their filth in endless tons,
The masses gulp it down in runs.

In wicked propaganda's layer,
"History" is the next betrayer.
Fantastical tales they now recite,
Where outcomes never end in right.

Deformity and slavery portrayed
As victories in battles waged.
Control the past, the future's grim,
Shame and disgrace on every limb.

These vile beasts prepare our fate,
Lulling minds into a state.
In lies, they drown us all anew,
Their course is set — the deepest blue.

All resources, including man,
Belong to just a creature's clan.
Their success is built on gold,
Their weapons used to keep control.

They craft crises, inflate the cost,
The people struggle, freedoms lost.
This management of stagnation
Leaves the masses in starvation.

When survival's all you know,
And sticky fear becomes your foe,
Transforming humans into beasts,
The slaughterhouse prepares its feast.

Sheep-virus and petty wars,
Fear induced through lying scores.
The global madhouse shakes in dread,
Believing lies, they strike their head.

In agony, the world convulses,
Hunger next, as evil pulses.
Their plans align: to ****, defame,
The hammer strikes the sheep's domain.

All nations false, a grand charade,
A global dictatorship displayed.
Genocide, their only goal,
To increase the damaged soul.

"Education" serves this aim,
A thinning layer of the sane.
The world is NOTHING — that's their creed,
A machine designed to mislead.

A well-oiled hellish mechanism,
With the task of soul's extermination.
Thus, fascism prevails unseen,
Through violence, fear, a constant theme.

Reason *****, to make you forget
That you're a being of divine beget.
To extinguish that spark within,
Transforming it to filth and sin.

For "education" — pseudoscience.
Usually jesters in compliance.
But led by ******* at the core,
Their goal: to make the psyche sore.

Neurotics, fools, and idiots too,
The mindless herd they aim to skew.
To rule a world of brainless skins,
Requires but minimal sins.

Soullessness is also key,
And pseudo-faiths that blind and flee.
Thus, Mind and Spirit pierced and torn,
A sieve through which our essence's worn.

With pseudoscience and false creeds,
Only **** fulfills their needs.
These chains are crucial to their plan,
To nearly **** the Reason-Man.

So we approach the secret bands,
They govern much with hidden hands.
To them, the dull are mere debris,
Their rule enforced through secrecy.

There exist the hybrid clans,
Half-human beasts with goatish plans.
Under Satan, the foul goat's reign,
Their spirits long ago were slain.

This "aristocracy" of black,
With Rothschild as their loyal lack.
In evil, they persist and strive,
To demons, they've pledged their life.

Beneath them, demons from afar,
Disgraceful ****, a cosmic scar.
Yet skilled in seizing worlds anew,
Their appetite consumes what's true.

They target souls, our very core,
Hence wars and fears forevermore.
They twist ideas, corrupt the man,
Their attacks a calculated plan.

They've armed the higher-ups with lore,
To keep us slaves forevermore.
For centuries, they've sealed our fate,
We're but mince-meat on their plate.

It's time to see, the end is near,
Those who've sold their souls, beware.
They'll be cast out with the ****,
Together, banished, their time is done.

Salvation lies in cataclysm,
It burns the dark, revives the prism.
The Spirit, now in agony,
In fascism's grip, seeks to be free.

The servants of those ghouls will pay,
Their reckoning is on its way.
The end is close, the madhouse six,
The world insane, in its last fix...

Only those who doubt the lies,
And fight, preserving honor's ties,
May be saved... perhaps, not sure.
For those who've trashed the light — no cure.

Well then, the poem reaches end.
Seek all within — let light ascend.
But if we stay in silence, meek —
To Hell we'll go, as beasts, oblique...

The world is sick — the same refrain,
And generations bear the pain
Of this foul plague, a curse unspoken,
The end result — a slave, heartbroken.

The lie resounds in every hall,
With wretches working to forestall
The truth, erased by cunning schemes,
A shadow cast on fading dreams.

Truth is Spirit — you’re a part,
A spark within your weary heart.
If survival's all you see,
Then Darkness molds your destiny.

A fool's work—life is fleeting,
This world is dull and grim.
Yet I stayed sane and beating—
Thanks to the "sin" of Hymn.

A "sin" to write directly
Of all that brings disgust.
So fight—write on correctly,
Stay true, preserve your trust.

"Religion is the chief bridle for the masses, the great intimidation of fools, a towering screen that blocks people’s sight of earthly deeds, forcing their eyes to the skies."
— Alexander Herzen

A "heavenly" haze,
A stifling maze,
It cages the mind,
Enslaves humankind.

No fetters can bind,
Nor blinders confine,
As tight as this veil—
A fool’s doomed trail.

To munch and to pray,
Then sink all the way
To darkness below—
It’s all they know.

This shameful charade
Forever has stayed.
To wake up the fool?
Just dash him 'gainst a cruel...


In Russian:

Коптильня для Разума

"Религия – это главная узда для масс, великое запугивание простаков, это какие-то колоссальных размеров ширмы, которые препятствуют народу ясно видеть, что творится на земле, заставляя поднимать взоры к небесам".
Александр Герцен.


Коптильня "небесная",
Для Разума тесная,
Гнобит простаков.
Страшнее оков

И шор не придумать.  
И дурню похрумать,
Потом помолиться —
На Дне очутиться.

Похабство то длится
Века. Дурака
Заставить окститься —
Об столб расшибиться...

"To be or not to be, that is the question."
Hamlet's Soliloquy

To be or to rot —
That is the query.
Words mean a lot,
Yet sound so dreary.

To be is to breathe,
To live in the Light.
To rot is to seethe
In Darkness' blight.

Fear waters lies,
Sprouting deceit.
The harvest? Cries
Of souls' defeat.

To be — you're no feast.


In Russian:

Посев Тьмы

"Быть или не быть, вот в чём вопрос".
Монолог Гамлета.


Быть или гнить? —
Вот в чём вопрос.
То не избыть
Чрез слов понос.

Быть — в Духе жить.
Гнить — верить Тьме.
Страхом полить,
В глупом уме

Ложь засевать
(Всходами — чушь),
Значит собрать
Куш мёртвых душ.

Быть — ты не куш.

The prologue? Fraud. The middle? Lies.
Deceit unfolds beneath the skies.
And at the end, like beasts, we fall—
Destroyed by falsehoods, one and all.


In Russian:

История человечества, кратко

Пролог — подлог, на середине
Тотальна ложь. И как к скотине
В Конце Истории отношенье —
Обманами уничтоженье.

Only strength can shake the feeble,
So they serve and bow so low.
Now their "land" is drowning deeper,
Drifting in a stream of woe.

Yet their strength is all for show—
Fools can never see the scheme.
Under Evil’s heel, they grovel,
Calling it "protecting kin."

Guarding lies, they sink in deeper,
Locked in cycles of decay.
Beasts above them know it clearer,
Placing scoundrels in their play.

Round and round—the wheel keeps turning,
Breaking minds, yet still they kneel.
Risk is real, but none discern it—
Filth will swallow those who yield.

A poet's tracks dissolve, erased,
Within the darkness, vast, unphased.
Their souls endure torment and strain,
To serve Psyche, not Mind’s domain.

The mind, when frail, lets falsehoods seep,
And lines grow hollow, shallow, cheap.
This truth must anchor thoughts that stray
Amidst the servants of decay.

And servants, too, of evil’s art
Are legion—poets play their part.
Through ages’ gloom, the wise perceive:
Delusion reigns; few truths reprieve.

Yet poets raise the Spirit high,
Though unaware the reason why.
In Spirit, brilliance claims its throne;
Through Mind, despair becomes your own.


In Russian:

Тонкости Высокой Поэзии

Следы поэтов исчезают
Во Тьме Кромешной, потому  
При жизни Души истязают,
Служа Психее, не уму:

Чрез ум стремиться ложь заполнить
Пространство строк, коль хлипок Дух.
Об этом только надо помнить
Среди убожества — Зла слуг.

Все слуги Зла, в том исключений
Довольно мало, и поэт,
Узрев чрез Морок поколений,
Что здесь господствует лишь Бред,

Стремиться Дух поставить главным,
Пусть то умом не сознаёт.
Лишь в Духе будешь Ярким, Славным —
Чрез ум отчаянье придёт.

"Rising From the Ashes" Amidst the Filth

Rising from the dirt, they claim,
Fascism—like Pol ***'s old name,
Suddenly worried 'bout the build
Of capitalism, grotesquely filled.

"Rising up," the fool’s own face
Falls back into the filth and waste—
For everywhere it’s spread and sown:
Facism’s muck has claimed the throne.



---------------------



Relentless, Talentless

Relentless, talentless, they roam,
Existence among slaves they know.
Yet they're but sheep within the pens,
No chains, but bound by their own trends.



---------------------



The Ubiquitous Crap of the BEASTS

Believe the crap—you're just a fool,
They'll send the herd to play the tool.
CowID was just the start,
Now tests have dulled the mind and heart.



---------------------



A Dose of Love

A dose of love from alley cats,
Poisoned blood, it’s all in that.
Bonmo’s venom, in the veins,
Awaiting Novus to remain...



---------------------



Building the Digital Concentration Camp

Together we swiftly build the Camp,
A red cross on a white flag's stamp,
The end result of “civilized” ways—
Spirit and Reason lost in a haze.
Or more precisely, their CASTRATION!!!



---------------------



The Prodigal Son's Non-Return

The prodigal son, no return in sight,
When madness reigns and blurs the right—
No need for forgiveness here,
Old sayings lie, it’s crystal clear.



---------------------



A Sandwich with Mustard

Mustard’s the spice of life, so dim,
And toil is just stale bread within.
Yet the world remains so flesh-bound,
It resembles more a pigsty ground.

Spiritual drives are foreign, lost,
For most, that’s just the bitter cost.
In minds, the festering lies take root,
And few escape the muck to shoot.



---------------------



What to Neglect?

Neglect: believe the fools' own lies,
Hope for light where darkness lies.
Sarcasm helps, and jokes will show—
To roll the "fluff" in filth below.



---------------------



Who Knows Where

Who knows where, who knows what,
But in despair, it’s all for naught.
Crap leads down the same dark road—
A path to nothing, as it's owed.



---------------------



The Bulldozer of Fierce Poetry

The bulldozer of fierce verse
Sweeps all the nonsense from the curse.
But there’s no gain to come from this—
The main nonsense still persists.

For since our youth, they flood our minds
With heaps of lies, of every kind.
If you remove that foul disguise,
What’s left is rot beneath their eyes.



---------------------



The Sun's Brightness Increase

The chants of man, with wine in hand,
Claim warming skies across the land...
For over fifty years, the Sun
Has shone more bright, as lies are spun.

The world has sunk in brazen lies,
As falsehoods heat like the Sun’s rise.
It's hard to clear the air, you see—
When lies flood in, so endlessly.



---------------------



The Stinking Slaves

The stinking slaves, the walking tombs,
Worshipping fate, their title looms—
"Just whatever"—their guiding creed,
Pushing others to their need.

They’ll drive them all into the grave,
For no place left for those who brave
To stand against this soulless mass—
Where most will fail, and none will pass.



---------------------



Alienation

Scorn the lies of wretched swine,
The dead-souled world is not for thine.
Serve your soul and walk away,
Cast their heresy to decay.



---------------------



The Labor of Verse

No labor can summon a poetic spark,
Yet without effort, it fades into dark.
A poem drains both strength and soul—
Lose what fuels it, and lose it whole.

At times, you'll pay that barren toll,
But work, then rest—don't fear the role.
If you're a poet, then halt means betray—
Build your "paradise" in rhyme each day.



---------------------



"The Enemy" Will Fall, Of Course

"The foe will fall, the fight is ours!"
So beasts send fools to war in showers.
Their goal is clear—more waves, more blood,
To drown the earth in human flood.

They need more bodies, more and more,
For fools can’t grasp what lies before.
It's not about some land or claim—
Just numbers lost—that is the game.



---------------------



The Suicide Club

Too late to beg, too dumb to trust,
No hope remains—just ash and dust.
We are the members of the doomed,
The world joins in—its fate consumed.

For patience comes a bitter price,
And treason’s debt is paid in vice.
As fascist filth now claims its might,
Beneath the Sun—we’re cut from light.



---------------------



The Road to the Global Asylum

A mindset shaped by ads alone—
The path was long, yet carved in stone.
The fools grew loud, their minds grew weak,
The madhouse gates are now in reach...



---------------------



Vegetable Warehouse

Cipollino… Ripe tomatoes…
Will the VEGGIES rise once more?
Yet the lies have built volcanoes,
Blocking out the distant shore.

Cipollino screams for brothers,
But they cannot hear his cries.
GMO turns all to others—
Livestock dressed in a disguise.

No way out, no grand tomorrow—
Only stew and mashed remains.
Peppers, onions, tamed in sorrow,
Bow before their foe in chains…



---------------------



Artificial Degradation

What is soft will fade away,
What is hard will stay.
Mind and soul are torn each day—
Evil paves the way.



---------------------



Youth and Age

At dawn, I walked to meet the sun,
Yet darkness loomed behind the glass.
By dusk, my path was overrun—
Bent to the night, forgot my past.



---------------------



Monuments

They stand like ghosts in graveyard haze,
As if their lives were golden days.
Yet in the ground now cold they lie—
Once minds of strength, now left to die.



---------------------



The Gullible Ones

They chased a dream through stormy tides,
Their "joy" was built on hollow lies.
Once more they bit the poisoned bait—
A fool’s belief in blissful fate.



---------------------



Once you were bold, so full of fire...
Now all that's left is cursing dire.



--- Total 23 poems. ---

Goal!!!

Football: pass, then goal —
You’re in the game, full blaze.
But chaos? —
That type of mind just sways.

It doesn't see the Dark —
"Understood!" is all it hears.
For its "mind" —
It’s all just "this" and "fears."



---------------------



The Change

No rescue, no salvation,
Only rot in every nation.
What’s left? Just wait for the end,
But not for long — just years to spend.

A total cage has closed around,
New beasts will rise, their minds still bound —
In fear, in filth, in false disguise,
They’ll live beneath the darkened skies.



---------------------



The Supply of Fools

The fools will never run dry,
This war will never cease.
Its goal? To wipe out those who lie,
Who’ve sunk to the deepest peace.



---------------------



Bleach

The finest bleach is now in hand,
To paint the world in white demand.
Take up the task, so cold, so bold —
Truth’s too harsh when lies unfold.

In this age of fascist rage,
You must be **** to turn the page.
Better still, a servant’s role —
And rot in sweetness, sold your soul.



---------------------



This and That

This and that — our all in all,
A false messiah will make the call.
No strength left here — it’s done, we’re through,
We lost it all in this and that too.



---------------------



Clarity of Thought

Clear thoughts, a style so sharp and bright —
Is it possible? Yes, all right.
If poetry has struck you deep,
Then in this word war, you’ll leap.

Measure each blow, sort out your themes,
Add some flair, create new dreams.
Want to? Then make some memes,
And smash the **** with verses' beams!



---------------------



Not Life...

Greed, betrayal, twisted thoughts,
Sticky fear that ties and knots:
Not life, but mockery we live,
Not a world — but dust to give.



---------------------



To Ferment?

Ferment it? Pour the brew —
Don’t drown your troubles, push on through.
Be bold, a bit more sly,
Throw tar in their sweet supply.



---------------------



No Red Lines

No "red lines" in this small world,
When in a fool’s grip, we're twirled.
Slavery’s etched from head to toe,
While the Beast enjoys the show.



---------------------



The Misfortune of the Rare Mind

Bank or jar? Do you honor
The stash and stuff it with the leftover?
A digital camp is being made —
They’ll shut the money faucet, delayed.

Where’s salvation? In the tribes —
But fools will never grasp the vibes.
No hope remains, none to come —
Such is the fate of the rare mind, undone...



---------------------



Variety of Lies

Add a twist to lies, and then
You can once again herd the men.
This old trick’s worn, but still not tough,
To craft some nonsense, long enough.



---------------------



Slowly, Steadily

With small steps, through every strife,
Bypassing all, you live your life,
But as a fool, you won't arrive
At the final point — cross or dive.

If you become a sluggish soul,
You’ll find yourself in death’s control...



---------------------



Steps to "Success"?

Steps to "success"? What a jest,
The world’s a twisted, skewed unrest!
Throw off your armor, drop your cards,
Go within, be Truth’s own guard.

"Success" through lies and falsehood’s game,
If all’s reversed, then take the claim:
The **** are kings, the gods have horns,
And beasts now rule the world, reborn.



---------------------



Nonsense

Nonsense won’t become less insane,
When most of them in it remain.
The harm grows greater, day by day,
When masses lead the foolish way.



---------------------



The Cuckoo

The cuckoo’s gone, it’s found a nest,
Now far away, it builds its rest.
Russia’s rise is hard to see —
As fascism turns all to debris.



---------------------



Fake Countries

"Countries"
Seem strange:
An idiot
In the majority — they call it "state."
They showed us the muzzle.
In idiocy, the world has crumbled.



---------------------



The Porridge

The porridge seems to have softened,
In the "***," but now it's swollen,
Something’s grown. Such is the crowd —
In myths, they’re saints, or so they’re loud.



---------------------



The Worms

Worms eat the corpse inside the grave —
That’s "consciousness" in a mind so depraved.
If they are the majority here,
Then beasts will reign, with "none to fear".



---------------------



To Please Others

To please the crowd —
Respect yourself:
There’s a rift, no doubt,
It’ll be your death,

If before the masses
You bow your head —
Then you’re the hero
Of a fleeting thread.

But greater wins,
When you turn within,
You’ll find, beyond the crowd,
You’ll rise above the din.



---------------------



To the Creator

Foolish minds "up top,"
Give orders to the fool,
No doubts, no thought to stop.
Your art’s not needed,
If your thoughts don’t match the beast,
This has been true, from the very least.



---------------------



Mood Swings

Mood swings, they're just a trifle,
When your aims are pure and rightful,
Leading you toward the clean,
Work becomes light, calm, serene.



---------------------



The Soil of Hopes

The soil for hopes grows poorer,
Day by day, less to adore.
Scraps for judgments harsh and tight,
In "positivity," we rot from sight.



---------------------



Two Paths

Not to “joy” — to Truth alone
Keep your path, through storm and stone.
Let the darkness never cease —
You won’t die among the sheep.

For the herd are not quite men,
Few remain of those again.
They will judge and **** your name
If you dodge the Devil’s game.

If you guard your inner flame,
They will curse — but not defame.
You will pass Hell’s slavish crew
If your soul remains in view.

You’ll be lonely — strong in mind,
Even prophecy you’ll find
May arise within your chest,
Once you cast the crowd’s lies out,
Cleanse your thought from all that mess —
Foolish fears, enslaving doubt.

Then the path of slave and pawn
You will curse, and you’ll move on.
Saved by Light that lives within —
Let the Spirit’s law begin.



---------------------



"Doctors"

First, assess the patient’s purse —
Then decide what might be done.
Healing’s third — but far less worth
Than a profit nicely won.

Treat a bit — then overtreat,
Till the body's near collapse.
If the gain is small or fleet,
Toss them out — no second lapse.

Clerks in coats, not healers now,
Medicine’s a crimson trade.
Fools still trust them, anyhow,
Those who poison, well-paid.

And they do — CowID made clear
How they lie and twist and grin.
Not true doctors — worms, I fear,
In a swamp of corporate sin.

Lies and business. Not a trace
Left of care or human touch —
Only pain, in every place,
Sold for far, far, far too much.



---------------------



Barrage of Lies

A barrage of lies breaks through
Tender minds from early youth.
“Bread and circuses!” — the cue
Of a crowd that shuns the truth.

Swearing off the cell and cage,
Yet they live in one, in fact.
Thought is crushed in every age —
Bread is scarce, but filth intact.

Mountains of it, ever near —
Trash disguised as daily norm.
Truth is rare, and drowned in fear,
In deceit’s eternal storm.

Want to live? Then seek and fight,
Find your answers, trust your spark.
Let the Spirit be your light —
Swat all counsel like a lark.

Lies explode with greater might
Than the bombs and shells of war.
Trust them — you will lose your sight,
Rot inside, and be no more.



---------------------



Career Ladders of the Global Madhouse

They climb the ladders, dumb and proud —
A “career,” backed by some degree.
While wiser souls just waste aloud
Their strength on dreams — no place to be.

The Madhouse has no room for truth,
No space for honesty or fire.
One path remains — creative youth —
But it won’t sell. It won’t aspire.

The seats are filled with hacks and frauds,
Fanatics, fakes, and kings of kitsch.
They shovel nonsense into gods
Of “taste,” while critics blindly twitch.

True poets? Writers? Lost in tags,
Filtered out by search deceit.
The mad get fame — the rest, in bags,
Are tossed aside, beneath their feet.

A world where failure takes the crown,
Where talent’s smothered, drowned, ignored —
Where garbage rains forever down —
And filth is served as rich reward.



---------------------



The Basis

Wickedness — our firm foundation.
Lies and treachery — our flair.
Cheat, betray — no hesitation.
Truth? Just rot beneath the glare.

Others dream — we call them fools.
Easy prey, we take them down.
Only quarrel o’er the rules
When it's our share that's in frown.

Selfish motives drive us deep —
In them, all our power lies.
Bliss we taste when others weep,
Drunk on spoils and cunning eyes.

Soon the weak will meet their fate —
Like mad spiders, we compete.
We will shape a new-born state
Where the fist decides what’s meat.

Arguments? Just raise a brow —
Simplified, our world will be.
Brute response is all we allow
When our leader barks, “Obey me!”



---------------------



The Ballad of the Rotten World

"Through poisoned words and rotting creeds,
Man loses nature’s ancient breath.
It takes a mighty mind indeed
To smell the lies — and leap from death."
Alexander Herzen


In Bedlam’s womb, you took your breath,
Through choking smog of cursed deceit.
You learned to suckle lies and death,
While fairy tales made bile taste sweet.

The myths grew blacker with the years,
Like fungus blooming in the mind.
The Evil fed upon your fears,
And gnawed your soul with teeth of blind.

They called it "virtue" as they bled you,
While bellies led your every quest.
Your hollow days, the chains that wed you,
Bound body first, and then the rest.

Through rotting tongues, the news deceived,
Through poisoned air, traditions lied.
You smiled while rotting — self-believed,
A corpse that danced before it died.

And so the Darkness wove its brood —
Through sacred words, through flags unfurled.
Through rites of fools and rotten good,
It raised the armies of the world.





--- Total 28 poems. ---

Once created, this will break
Evil’s law—its harsh mandate.
For by default, it guides the blind
To a savage hell-bound mind.

Mind beneath the Soul? No way—
Lies and chains won’t work that way.
Such a trade defies decree,
Bringing loss to tyranny.

This world’s flipped—a twisted sphere,
Stockpiling filth year by year.
Yet its hoard will fade and die
If we let Parnassus fly.

Soul’s the wealth that stands alone.
Leave the world's depraved Cell,
Multiply its light—outgrown,
Building Heaven deep in Hell.

"Knowledge expands ignorance."
— Anaximenes, 6th century BCE


Deception, fraud, and misbelief
Are twisted in a mighty rope.
It's thick, though rotting underneath,
Yet minds still cling to it in hope.

The world hangs high, the Pit below—
The yawning Hell, the deadly traps.
But ignorance will grow and grow...
And when it snaps—they all collapse.

Rest in a Rush!

"Attack" on your rest—just drop it a bit,
The toil and the struggle—relax and submit!
A cat finds no need for a pointless endeavor—
In Foolish World, all work’s useless forever.



---------------------



The New Global Madness

"Monkeypox" is sweeping apes,
The cause is clear—no big escape.
If the mind is cracked and bare,
A new "disease" is always there.

"Hippo clap" will strike next round,
And we’re all just sinking down.
For the fools make up the crowd,
Pressing forth—relentless, loud.

Darkness grows, the world declines,
Spinning faster, losing time.
Soon the Camp will call the roll—
Fools lined up to pay the toll.



---------------------



Introspection

"It’s never too late to learn," they say—
A lie that clouds the skies each day,
A false freedom wrapped in light—
"Knowledge is power" for the fools in flight.

Master the art of self-reflection,
A challenging, deep connection—
If the light within is what you seek,
Break the molds, no longer weak.



---------------------



The Ladder of Society

Futile toil, a mind so weak,
With "standards high" and future bleak.
"Climb" the ladder, but beware—
It’s heading down, if you still care.

A few break free, with daring will—
They bend not, walking still,
Trampling heads on their way up—
That’s how the chaos fills the cup.



---------------------



The Total Power of Interpreters

When you’ve seen the NAKED FACT,
That all is shaped by how it’s played,
Interpretations of ATTACK
Push fools to act, to strike, invade.

This is how the world’s controlled—
Evil’s witnesses erased,
When, in part, they’ve seen the cold,
And share some facts, they’re laid to waste.

Such is the "scientific truth"—
Interpretations run amok.
Among the liars, there's a proof—
Honesty’s rare, it’s out of luck.



---------------------



Fascism marches, set to ****,
With fury, striking all around.
And Cretinism backs it still –
That’s why the world is breaking down.



---------------------



Fools are swarming, lost and blind,
Like a herd led to the knife.
Strong in body, weak in mind,
Empty souls with hollow life.

That is why the vile and sly
Lure them in with poisoned bait.
Though it's rotten—still they'll try,
Rushing gladly to their fate.



---------------------



Pray on—pray in vain,
The horned god won't hear.
Awake and regain
The lesson made clear.

The Light dwells inside,
Its glow faint but true.
Yet even denied,
It still shines for you.



---------------------



What they’re taught, the kids embrace,
Fed with nonsense, forced to bow.
Few will rise and break the chains,
Questioning the lies somehow.

Slaves raise slaves—it's all they know,
Blind to all beyond their cage.
Madness thrives, and down below,
Hellspawn revel in their rage.



---------------------



"Greatest gifts," they preach and reign,
Feeding worlds with hollow dreams.
"Communism"? Just a chain,
Fascist care behind the scenes.

Show your pass—submit, obey,
Tolerance rules all around.
Yet the brave, in their own way,
Fight beneath where dark is crowned.

Few will see their silent strife,
As the fools embrace their fate.
Yet through hardship, wings take life—
Soaring high beyond the gate.



---------------------



Rotten thoughts will breed decay—
Bitter age will claim its due.
Never thought? Then fade away
As a slave, still blind and true.

Faith in nonsense, worn yet strong—
Church or Party, all the same.
Crushes minds and leads them wrong—
That’s the heart of Chatter’s game.



---------------------



Fights for the right to be enslaved,
All revolutions, blind and cruel—
Led by beasts, with power paved,
Under evil’s rule, we drool.

One alone, in thought, will drown—
A world where chains are just the same.



---------------------



Cappuccino for the fool—
TV blares, the news unfolds.
"Real men!" they shout, so cruel—
Their minds are filled with empty goals.



---------------------



Six hours in the cycling race,
Athletes tire, they lose the chase.
But the commentator's prize—
Is the viewer's weary mind's demise.

Nonsense hangs like lead, so dense—
"Thought" drips down like a slow expense.
Wheels in their heads worn down, abused—
The madness reigns, their minds confused.



---------------------



A tiny mind, with pride so vast,
It grows, a snowball rolling fast.
It comes with soullessness in tow—
A landslide sweeping all below.



--- Total 15 poems. ---

Leave a trace —
Night disgrace.
Die in peace, yet flames remain —
Scorching marks won’t fade or wane.

"Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think."
— Jean de La Bruyère, 17th century


This tragicomedy is Plight —
A thought without a feeling’s dry,
No warmth of passion, not a spark,
But feel too much — you're bound to lie.

Awake, a fool, in endless dreams,
To strike the balance. We hav't chance,
Because the earth is lost in schemes,
Drowned deep in shabby decadence.


In Russian:

Трагикомедия мировосприятия

"Жизнь — трагедия для того, кто чувствует и комедия для того, кто мыслит".
Жан де Лабрюйер, XVII-ый век.


Трагикомедия достала,
Ведь мысль без чувства столь суха,
Что проку и Горенья мало,
А если с чувством, в дурака

Большие шансы превратиться.
И трудно соблюсти баланс,
А потому Земля пропала —
Повсюду вшивый декаданс.

The ghost of communism
Wandered, then disappeared.
The demon of nihilism
Has now appeared, reared.



---------------------



— The herd demands both bread and shows.
— No, it's the people, you're speaking prose.
— If muzzles fit, then don't you see,
The pen’s the goal, we not be free.



---------------------



Pashka, Mashka, Sashka, Dashka,
Your lives are always off the mark,
If you believe the propaganda,
You’ll fall for Lucifer’s band dark.



---------------------



The gadget poisons kids’ minds —
Books are forgotten, left behind.
No paper’s touch, no scent, no sight,
Just screens that blind them day and night.



---------------------



Right on target!

Games. "Tigers" on the screen,
In a moment, blood's unseen.
Virtual wars, a cruel descent:
The goal — to crush the mind’s intent.



---------------------



The "Feast" at the Nursery

At the nursery, in tanks they play,
"Planes" are flying, children say.
In their youth, they're scarred and torn,
It’s time to end the hate reborn.



---------------------



The Training of a Monkey with a Grenade

Frol's school turns the child to ape,
With fingers clenched in a cruel shape.
Without the grenade, the vile new trend —
Neo-fascism's easy to bend.



---------------------



Art Under Control

Art’s controlled not by direction—
Only cash can call the shots.
Foam and rot, in each reflection—
Rotten feelings, twisted plots.

Money’s made for *******,
Not for joy, but to corrode—
Tools of planned degeneration,
Plain to see the way we go’d.

CowID showed the scheme completely.
Where is art? Where is dissent—
That, in protest cloaked discreetly,
Kills the madness, not relents?

Only few, as always, dared to
Speak the truth and break the trance.
Art, it seems, is just a phantom,
In real life—it leads the dance

Of a hydra, evil-driven.
Not by force, but coin instead
Does the beast, in shadows hidden,
Rule the stage. And you’re misled—

Blind to see it, dumb and sleeping,
If you think it's all a game.
Once you spot what lies it's keeping,
You won’t look at it the same.



---------------------



So-Called “Art”

Creeps in service, gladly selling—
Trained for trade and empty yelling.
Slavery’s engraved inside,
Tiny minds just run and hide.

Squeak a bit — they’ll toss you meat,
Just enough to call it "treat."
This is “art” today, no less:
Filthy lies in fancy dress.



---------------------



Materialist Mock-Culture

Fake culture’s depth? It’s all about
The cash, the skin, the shallow clout.
With lies of "care" for flesh and face,
It leads the fools in Evil’s race.

False faiths preach false "spiritual light"
To prop up madness day and night.
This fake culture is a chain
Built to keep us all insane.

Spirit leads — and mind should follow:
That is culture, deep, not hollow.
But if that truth breaks the charm,
The BEAST will lose its grip and harm.

You can't control a soul that's free —
Only herds yield easily.
Though it’s hard to break the trance
(It's ruled for ages, not by chance),

Fall within. The truth lies there —
Not in noise or outer glare.
There you'll find a spark to guide:
Light and Beauty, deep inside.



---------------------



Living the Sweet Life!

"Sweet like chocolate!" — join the show,
Frontline traitors steal the glow.
Write for media? You’ll rise—
As a top-tier king of lies.

Crack the zombie-box, you’re crowned—
To the mindless, deep and sound,
God and ruler, bold and brash,
Super-creep in monster-trash.

If you can’t — then be a clerk,
Lower grade, but still can work.
No more lazing, here’s your fate:
"Fetch!" — the BEAST commands with hate.

Still, you’ll steal without much stress,
Just enough for full success.
Then explain with calm aplomb
Why it’s grand to be a swine

In a world so dumb, decayed,
If you love that sweet charade.
And devoured, one by one,
By the horde — the Parade of ****.



---------------------



No Future Ahead

"The last shall be the first!" — they say,
The "Internationale" dream.
But those who rot their souls away
Will never rise — despite the theme.

One isn’t blind who’s poor and tired,
But he who eats and sleeps on time,
Yet bends to thugs as self-required
And buys into collective crime.

The world is ruled by ghostly lies —
A thousand myths, all thin and hollow.
That "specter" once with glowing eyes,
Called communism, we did follow.

It was a dream — just one of many,
And more will come, the weak to sway.
The mob sells out for next day's penny...
That’s why we’re lost. We’ve lost our way.



---------------------



Satan’s Kitchen

"He who does not resist evil is consumed by it and becomes possessed."
—Ivan Ilyin


Possession’s spread is everywhere:
Resist not evil — it will bake you.
Like dough, you’re shaped with subtle care,
Then to the Devil’s oven take you.

Outside, you’re sweet — a gingerbread,
But inside — poison fills your core.
Your soul is sold, your reason's dead,
You’re just a puppet, nothing more.

The goal? To eat you. Tear and bite.
And as you burn in false delight,
Your loosh pours out — a cursed perfume,
And souls dissolve in silent gloom.



---------------------



The Cesspool

Folly reigns where honor’s gone,
And knowledge now is twisted lies.
Consumed by need, enslaved by wrong—
The mark of genocide still lies.

The traitor climbs—the cesspool hums,
Not the biggest chunk, but still it’s clear:
The “worthy” rot, as darkness drums,
They wait for higher ranks to cheer.

While down below, the other kind
Refuse the filth that’s piled so high,
The bold ones face a bitter grind—
For defiance leads to jail or die.

Only few remain who dare to fight,
Their time is short, their future bleak,
In the cesspool — isolated might,
Unable to unite or speak.

Each must endure the painful test—
But lessons learned are lost in vain.
It’s time to end this poisoned mess,
And burn the cesspool’s dark domain.





---------------------



The Miracle Cure

A cure for weariness — to run,
Start young, and soon you'll find success.
The prize you’ll win will weigh as one—
Good health, the key to happiness.

All else is fluff, so let it slide,
Except for Art, the soul’s true quest.
With strength like ox, and will as guide,
Your labor turns to purest zest.



---------------------



"A Residence Permit in the Sky"
Strive for a place up high,
“How?”—by rejecting the filth
That taints the world with lies.

Though a chance exists, in this life,
To live as a pauper, you see,
Dwelling in a latrine's strife
Means living with “high society.”



---------------------



Ignorance as the Fate of the World

"There’ll always be some Eskimos who teach the Papuans how to cope with heat."
Stanisław Jerzy Lec.


I went to school — a fool among fools —
They told me how I ought to live.
The madhouse chiefs, the traitor-rules,
Taught love of homeland — false and stiff.

They showed the way. No real example —
Just thunderous speeches, empty pride.
And I, a youth, too small to trample,
Stood still as lies screamed far and wide.

So I shall die — not quite a native,
A step from ignorance, half-bred.
But no one minds. The chains are sacred
If silence keeps your conscience dead.



---------------------



How to Be a Poet

If you rise before the sun,
Turn your soul where shadows run,
Grab a pen and let it flow —
You're a poet, now you know.

Add some rhythm, keep it tight,
Make sure rhymes still sound just right,
Squeeze in meaning, feeling too,
And don’t echo what you do.



---------------------



Down the ***** of Daily Dread

So your life went off the rails...
Once you thought you’d reached the top?
Now it’s mourning, veils on veils —
For the Mind. A fool won’t stop

To reflect — this fight for "bliss"
Never ends, it drags us down.
Only few through storms like this
Stumble toward a distant crown,

Toward a flicker faint and kindled
Through the shards of warped belief,
But the mirrors — cracked and swindled —
Steal the souls in silent grief.

In Forgetfulness the nation
Dwells, as scoundrels tear apart
Mind and Spirit — desecration
Leaves but few with subtle heart.

Hell is here — the world beneath it
Takes its form and bears its name.
Sunlight fades — we barely breathe it,
Years slip into fatal flame.

Soon comes Exodus. Most hurry
Toward a new infernal shore,
Born of fear, betrayal, worry —
Twisted lies and nothing more.



---------------------



The Path to Light

A turtle dreamt of running fast,
To win a marathon at last.
Much like some fool who talks all day
Of chasing Light to flee decay.

He claims he's left the dark behind,
With "purity" to fill his mind,
While in the chaos of the lame,
Decay's the law, and truth's a game.

He waits for some elusive breath —
The third one, standing on the second.
But rot still spreads, as sure as death —
A madhouse world, so grimly beckoned.



---------------------



Double Shot

A burst of fear
And lies is fired.
The fool stands near —
Alone, inspired.

A hit — dead on!
"March forth!" the horde.
How low we've gone —
**** crowns the sword.



---------------------



Amid the Metal Screams

There’s pain and constant nausea,
From nonsense, lies, and boredom.
A “paradise” of torment —
Or just pure Hell in sordid form?

To bow to filth and suffer?
Then you become a spineless cur.
Corrupted freaks abound,
Mad traitors all around.

They form the herd, the horde —
So fight, or be ignored.
Or they will crush what's left
Of Spirit, Mind, and Honor —
In this world of twisted theft,
Where rust and madness wander.



---------------------



The End of Nostalgia

It’s timely now — the final slide
To real Hell, the gaping maw,
Where fascist filth no more can hide —
The spawn of Hell will meet its law.

They’ll vanish with their wicked kin,
Who cheered decay and praised the fall,
Dragged the world through rot and sin
Down past the depths — near furnace wall.



---------------------



Kids in Cages — That’s Called School
Into the world they march — as tools,
Turning all to empty stages.
But truth be told… their dads were fools.



--- Total 24 poems. ---

Transnistrian ****

Transnistrian kind of hell:
Forty euros to the *******.
Where else rings that rotten bell,
Where a louse is crowned as triple?!

Louse commands the cops alone —
Planted plenty, proud and loud.
He’s not ruling from the throne —
He fell lower than the ground.




---------------------



The "president" is a Nasty Cop

I’ll put on my muzzle and helmet —
Off I go, to defend our top swine.
Orders rule me, I live to obey them,
Every nonsense decree — it is mine.

There's no joy that can match this devotion:
To submit, to obey, to comply.
We’re encircled by foreign commotion —
Local **** can’t just steal on the sly!

And I love all the lies that they’re slinging,
I wear noodles from head to my feet.
I would sell my own soul without blinking —
Just to serve every scumbag I meet.



---------------------



The Transnistrian Fascist Regime

A stinking regime where reason had changed —
Just call it the coffin-fund state and be done.
The cop is the master — degraded, deranged —
The people? Squeezed dry, every last one.



--- Total 3 poems. ---

Tick and tock: if you're a fool,
You've fallen into the trap,
Time's not linear, it's a map
Of chaos hiding in the rule.

Listen to your heart alone,
It’s the only guide to see,
Smash the lies with clarity,
Break the chains of "linearity".


In Russian:

Ловушка псевдо-линейного времени

Тик и так: коль ты мудак,
То в ловушку ты попал —
Нелинейно время. Вал
Лжи за этим — сплошь бардак.

Сердце слушай — лишь оно
Выведет тебя из лжи.
Интуицией круши
Всё "линейности" говно.

THE TRILOGY OF AWAKENING
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT

1. ANTI-EGO MANIFESTO
The Spirit roars. The Lie must fall.

You are not the echo in your head.
You are not the name you defend.
You are the Flame before the word.
You are the Silence that has heard.

Ego is noise.
Spirit destroys.
“I” is a glitch.
Burn the switch.

You are not thought.
Spirit is not bought.
Mask off.
Lie dead.

Ego’s a leash.
Spirit is breach.
No throne for slime.
Spirit is prime.

Don’t follow “me.”
Be wild. Be free.
**** the script.
Let Spirit lift.

Silence is fire.
Ego’s a liar.
“I” is a cage.
Break the stage.

Drop the role.
Find the Whole.
Thought obeys.
Spirit stays.

“Self” is a brand.
Spirit’s unplanned.
You are more
Than ego’s war.

Ego is ash.
Spirit will flash.

The voice says “Me” —
It’s slavery.
The louder the “I,”
The deader the sky.

Ego is rust.
Crack it to dust.
The “self” you know —
A puppet show.

No “I” survives
Where Spirit drives.
Pride is a chain.
Snap it. Reign.

The faker the pose,
The deeper it grows.
Don’t seek a name.
Ignite the flame.

Ego shouts “win!”
While rotting within.
Thought is a tool.
Ego’s a fool.

You were the fire —
Before the liar.
What you defend
Is not your end.

Forget your face.
Unfold the Space.
Spirit speaks low.
Ego says “Go.”

No mask remains
When Spirit reigns.

This is not rebellion.
This is return.
Burn the noise.
Let the Fire burn.


2. THE LIE BETWEEN
Where Shadows breed, and Truth is chained.

Between the Flame and Echo lies
A ghost — a mask — a dark disguise.
The space where whispers twist and spin,
The silent war that rages within.

The Lie is neither flesh nor bone,
It dwells inside — yet stands alone.

It’s not the Ego’s boast or pride,
Nor Spirit’s flame that won’t subside.

It’s that thin veil, the cursed seam,
The gap between the Thought and Dream.

It’s in the doubt, the mind’s unrest,
The place where Truth is dispossessed.

It feeds on fear, on false delight,
The endless day that hides the night.

The Lie divides what once was One,
A fracture where the light is none.

It spins a web of “I” and “You,”
A prison forged in what’s untrue.

The Lie corrupts the sacred thread,
Turns wisdom’s voice to hollow dread.

It whispers “Separate, be lone,”
Yet binds us all with chains unknown.

Between the spirit’s boundless sea
And ego’s harsh captivity.

The Lie is shadow’s cruel dance,
A phantom’s cold, seductive trance.

It thrives in silence, yet speaks loud,
A shroud disguised as shining cloud.

It masks the fire with false control,
A counterfeit of every soul.

To break the Lie, one must confront
The darkest hour, the final hunt.

No fear, no flinch — just steady gaze,
Until the Lie dissolves in blaze.

The Lie between is not your friend,
It’s where illusions never end.

It poisons thoughts, and clouds the sight,
Keeps spirit chained in endless night.

But in that gap, a spark remains —
A flicker fierce, beyond the chains.

To pierce the Lie, to walk between,
Is to reclaim what lies unseen.

The Lie between must burn away,
So Spirit’s truth can hold its sway.

The Lie between is not the end —
But crossroads where we must transcend.
Face it, break it, and arise —
To find the fire behind your eyes.


3. PRO-SPIRIT MANIFESTO
The Fire behind the Form. The One before the Name.

I am not what I think.
I am what burns thought.
I am not the mirror.
I am the light it forgot.

I am the Flame
before the game.

I am the Stillness
inside the storm.

I walk without mask.
I am the Form.

I am not sound.
I am the Ground.

I hold no face.
I am the Space.

I am not “I” —
I am the Eye.

I don’t believe.
I am the weave.

Thought is my servant.
Will is my flame.

I do not seek —
I am the Name.

I breathe through all.
I rise when called.

I shine through flesh.
I am not bound.

I am the Pulse
beneath all sound.

I do not end.
I don’t begin.

I was before
the fall of skin.

I fear no death.
I am the Breath.

I am the spark
that breaks the dark.

I am the flame
you cannot name.

I walk through night
as Living Light.

I am the wave
that won’t behave.

I speak in signs
between the lines.

No god owns me.
No cage contains.

I am the Root
of all remains.

I rise, I break,
I am the Wake.

I am not born —
I am the Torn.

I hold the seed
of every need.

No crown I wear,
but I am air.

I am the Drum
before it’s struck.

I am the Source —
not thought, not luck.

I do not yield.
I am the Field.

I do not bow.
I am the Now.

Not a soul to be saved —
but a Fire to be known.
Not a self to be healed —
but a Spirit fully grown.

The fool’s no rarity to see—
A “citizen” of mediocrity.
How sickening this mindless horde,
If you're no slave, no ****** bored!


In Russian:

Идиот ещё тот —
То обычный "гражданин".
Как достал тошнотный сброд,
Если ты не раб-кретин!..

"Truth is born as heresy and dies as prejudice."
— Georg Hegel


Slaves cry: “It’s heresy that whole world in chains!”
Repression blinds them, fierce and strong.
And total slavery, grinning in disdain,
Drives filth through winds that reek of wrong.

It screams of “freedom,” “choice,” and “wealth,”
And “equality” for fools enslaved.
Much like when communists preached “brotherhood’s” health
While chains and lies dug common graves.

If all are born as slaves, for centuries cursed,
Then fools are those who dare confess
That man’s a wretch, by inhumans coerced,
And genocide is power’s finesse.

The first stage? “Heresy!” they decry.
But filth reveals the rotten pit.
No chance remains for even try
To grasp such truth or handle it.

Instead, more madness storms ahead,
As evil churns its blackened tides.
The world won’t make it to “prejudice,”
Its dullard mind in mockery hides.

It turns sharp truths to empty jest,
Content to bear its endless cross,
Each day more senseless than the rest,
Until decay consumes the dross.



In Russian:

Истина тотального рабства

"Истина рождается ересью, а умирает предрассудком".
Георг Гегель.


Рабы: сплошь рабство — "это ересь!"
Ведь вытеснение сильн'о,
Тотально рабство, Зло, ощерясь,
Чрез СМРАДы гонит всем говно

"Свободы выбора", "богатства"
И "равенства" тупых рабов,
Как раньше коммунисты "братство"
Средь лжи и нищеты, оков

Всеобщих. Если все рабами
Рождаются который век,
То назовут тех дураками,
Кто прямо говорит, что человек

Убогий раб, им правит нелюдь,
А суть правленья — геноцид.
Этап сплошь первый: "Это ересь!"
Но показал тупой говнид

Всё Дно. И малых шансов нету
Такую истину принять
Хотя бы трети. Дальше бреду
Зло будет больше нагонять,

А потому до "предрассудка"
Мирку тупому не дойти.
Он снова обращает в шутку
Остроты о Гнилье, нести

Свой крест готов до опупенья,
Тупея с оным каждым днём.
Неотвратимо РАЗЛОЖЕНЬЕ,
И скоро все мы догниём.

A duckling, so vile,
Yet chick-like in style,
The duckling takes flight—
The chick meets its blight.

A soup born of shame,
For the flightless, its name.
Earth’s fools, stripped of worth,
Bring disgrace to the Earth.

A pen for despair,
And Reason’s own snare,
This planet, our Earth—
For Aphids feast, for our dearth...


In Russian:

Тля нелюди, пожирающая Землю

Ах, гадкий утёнок
Почти как цыплёнок,
Но он улетит.
Цыплёнка ждёт Стыд.

Стыд Супа — бескрылым.
Земные дебилы
Позором Земли
И ужином Тли.

Загон для гавваха
И Разуму плаха
Планета Земля —
Для ужина, для...

An ugly guru, dull and vain,
Decided wisdom to proclaim:
In tanned-up hides, with pomp and flair,
He peddles "spirit's culture" there.

A soulless plague sweeps through the land—
A hellish world, a doomed command.
To save your soul, take up the fight,
Ignore the lies—hold to the Light!


In Russian:

Уродливый гуру
Учить решил сдуру:
В дублёную шкуру
Прёт "духа культуру".

Бездушье повально —
Мирок инфернальный.
Спасай свою душу
Лишь сам — чушь не слушай!

Piter’s dad is a math PhD,
But in life, he’s as soft as can be.
While the dimwits, so sly and pragmatic,
Climb to the "top" through chaos dramatic.


In Russian:

Папа у Васи док в математике,
Но он по жизни полный тюфяк.
А недоумки вышли в "прагматики":
Мусор "наверх", коль полный бардак.

The webs have spun
Their doubtful friends and hollow play.
Lost is the one
You were, amid their games' array.


In Russian:

Сети раскрутили
Чушь сомнительных "друзей":
Кто ты есть, забыли
Средь забав затей.

The wheel of wretched life turns fast,
No stopping it, the die is cast.
The weak, like slugs, are crushed with ease,
While lies disguise it all as peace.

"The Care" is now the sacred guise,
A fetish veiled in hollow cries.
Fools believe the tales they’re fed,
So silence reigns where thought has fled.


In Russian:

Маховик убогой жизДни
Раскрутился — не унять.
Кто слабее — словно слизни:
Можно их давить и лгать,

Что то только вид "заботы".
Днесь "забота" как фетиш —
Верят сказкам идиоты,
Потому сплошь гладь да тишь.

The mad Samsara wheel is turning,
Corrupting souls without a clue.
Crushed and torn, yet none are learning—
Fed with lies disguised as truth.

"Lessons gained," they chant, deceiving—
Hell is all they truly find.
Like lost children, left to grieving,
Thrown to wolves and raised to blind.


In Russian:

Колесование

Колесо Самсары психов
Закрутило: не поймут —
Колесуют Души лихо,
Но с три короба наврут

Про какой-то "опыт"... В Аде?!
Всё равно что поместить
Детей малых в зоосаде,
Где по волчьи станут выть...

Awareness of slavery —
The first step from this Mire.
Tyranny dulls the bravery,
Crushes almost all fire.

With a mob of fools to guide,
It's easy to command.
By selecting those who lie,
And slaughter by their hand.

Ugliness rules the councils,
Brutes in power prevail.
Few noble souls hold balances,
In any sphere, they fail.

This thinning line of virtue,
Pressed by lies and decay,
Fades under devil's virtue,
As darkness takes the day.

Generations, deformed,
Fall as beasts, step by step.
The rot deepens, transformed —
What remains but regret?

Once you see, don’t enable
Schemes of beasts; make a stand.
Block their lies, if you’re able,
Keep your Spirit at hand.

Soulless beasts and their masses,
Caught in deceitful tides,
Will perish as time passes,
When catastrophe strikes.

And this reckoning’s nearing,
No, it’s already here.
No need for corpses leering,
Unburied graves draw near.

Let the dead fill the earth’s maw,
But the Spirit takes flight.
Gather strength for this last law,
If you're still in the Light.

Renew your Soul through vision,
Let it guide your ascent.
Break away indecision,
Cut loose what’s hell-bent.

Sever ties with the ballast,
Prepare wings to unfold.
For today marks the malice —
And their doom lies foretold.


In Russian:

Дерьмомир и его отрицательный отбор

Осознание рабства —
Первый шаг из Дерьма.
Оглупляет тиранство:
Нет почти здесь Ума.

А толпой идиотов
Так легко управлять!
Сплошь отбором уродов,
Тех кто будут всем лгать,

И устраивать бойни,
Занят ТВАРЕЙ "обком".
Очень мало достойных
В любых сферах, притом

Уменьшается эта
В Зле прослойка людей
Под напором лжи, бреда
Холуйков Тьмы чертей.

Тот напор поколенья
Превращает в скотов
Всё сильней: разложенье
Семимильных шагов.

Осознав, не участвуй
В схемах ТВАРЕЙ, борясь.
Лжи и бреду препятствуй,
Сохранив с Духом связь.

Бездуховные ТВАРИ
И бездушный народ,
В большинстве, в Лживой Мари —
Уничтожит сей сброд

Катаклизм, что наступит...
Нет, уже подступил!
Не нужны Свету трупы,
Что пока без могил.

Мертвякам всем в могилы,
А Духовным — в Полёт.
Накопи к нему силы,
Коль ПОКА не урод.

Интроспекцией Душу
Ты свою обнови.
Лишь Её потом слушай,
Сил прибавив. Порви

Все ненужные связи —
Для Полёта балласт.
Днесь предел безобразий —
Катаклизм им как наст.

The world is sick—repeats consume,
Each generation meets its doom.
A plague of lies spreads night and day,
And leaves us slaves who must obey.

Falsehood echoes, loud and clear—
The schemers work to sow the fear,
Erasing truth with every breath,
And binding minds till spirit’s death.

Truth is Spirit—hold it tight,
Through storms of soul, through darkest night.
If mere survival is your goal,
The Dark will surely steal your soul.

Fight this Filth—expect resistance,
Threats and hurdles in persistence.
Tears won’t help, nor cries of pain—
Only cunning wins the game,
Cold precision, shrewd devotion,
If you’d dodge the fool’s erosion.

Dark intrigues behind the curtain—
Fear will make the chains more certain.
Keep the masses dull and hollow,
Though they’re fools with minds so shallow.

Plenty work for scheming swine—
Plots are "jokes," yet right on time:
Spin them up through viral chatter,
Memes will make them spread and scatter.

Clowns are fools, absurd and broken;
Some are corpses left unspoken—
Senile minds in dim decay,
Others lost in bluer sway.

Evil rises, takes its course,
Culling weaklings at the source.
This is what we breed and cherish—
Shall we thrive, or shall we perish?..

A million wants, a thousand dreams,
But never trials, so it seems.
They crave it all without the fight—
The yo-yo jumps, a fleeting flight.

A world of toys, so sweet, so plain,
Where simple minds bring little pain.
And who’s the hand that pulls the string?
They hardly care about the thing.


In Russian:

Поколение йо-йо

Множество желаний,
Но без испытаний
Чтобы получить всё:
Прыгает йо-йо

В мире, где игрушки
Все простые — душки!
А кто кукловодит,
Дела нету, вроде...

"I would not want to be the God who created this world,
for the suffering of this world would break my heart."
—Arthur Schopenhauer


Perhaps it was by God's own hand,
But soon the Devil took command.
This wretched world, so harsh, so grim,
Where only pests can truly win.

Nature's foe—the cunning mind—
Barely breathing, cruel, unkind.
And honest souls? A fleeting show—
A murky void is all we know.



In Russian:

Этот мир

"Я не хотел бы быть Богом, который сотворил этот мир, потому что страдания этого мира разбили бы моё сердце".
Артур Шопенгауэр.


Сотворил, возможно, Бог,
Но Рогатый занял трон
Опосля. Сей мир убог:
Выживает только тля —

Для Природы главный враг.
Еле в теле — умный кто,
Если честен. С древле так:
В целом, полное НИЧТО.

"Endgame"

The IDIOT makes his final play,
The game is reaching its last note.
A move that leads the wrong way—
Defeat is all he wrote.



---------------------



Thorns and Roses

A world of lies,
Where dreamland dies.
The flowers fade,
The thorns invade.



---------------------



For Free?

Clara drained Karl, stole his might,
Nagging and picking a fight.
Karl grew to hate her, it's true...
Marriage means free *** to you?



---------------------



Clara and Karl

Karl and Clara—
Fools, but paired.
Faithful, hopeful,
Yet impaired.

Building dreams
Through storm and night,
Where dark and hate
Suppress the light.

Clara nags him,
Mocks and scolds,
Molds him into
What she holds—
A man who's tamed,
By her revised,
Trapped beneath
Her sharp disguise.

Karl's no more—he lost the game,
Married wrong and took the blame.



---------------------



Cockroach Race

Masses keep striving through falsehood and lies,
Chasing illusions with blind, empty eyes.
What is the goal? Just deception again—
Years lost to labor and struggle in vain.

Then come new targets, with fraud at their core,
Shifting the game like they’ve done times before.
Each generation keeps playing it wrong,
Racing ahead to belong and belong.

"First" means you're last, yet they run to the front,
Fearing the shame of a lowly affront.
Honor and conscience are left in the past—
Trifles discarded, too fragile to last.

The race nears its end, and the track’s set aflame,
Burning away this absurd, endless game.
Change is upon us, the sun makes it clear—
No room for roaches; their end has drawn near.



---------------------



Trivial Rot

Trifles burn like caustic lies,
Eating souls until they’re dry.
Fear and falsehood claim their prize—
Rotting Bedlam swarms the sky.

Madness reigns, the world’s a fair
Where the petty lead the blind.
Like a plague beyond repair,
Faking nations fall in line.

That same plague infects the mind,
Branded CowID to be shown.
Hidden masters rule mankind,
Dragging all beneath the stone.

Fools obey and fools believe—
Most are eager for their chains.
Filth and ruin won’t deceive—
Vermin’s rule is all that reigns.



---------------------



Original Sin

Gullibility's a blight,
Worse than any foe in sight.
Model citizen, so keen—
Tell them lies, they serve the scene.

Mind shut down and conscience dead,
They obey with blinded tread.
Gullibility, since birth,
Is the sin that doomed the earth.



---------------------



"Roses" of Satanism

Roses, tears, and threats entwine,
Lies and whips in grand design.
Masks and poses, fear and haze,
Shadows twist in mirrored maze.

Madness swirls in tangled streams,
*****’s roses draped in death.
Rotting souls, decaying dreams,
Choking on their final breath.

Madness, sickness, minds decayed,
Empty shells in hollow bliss.
Outward—hope, so bright displayed,
But Satanic roses kiss.



---------------------



Editing and "Culture"

Editing cuts with a frown,
Culling the best, shutting it down.
Not a hack? Then ***** their game—
Their culture is a sheep to tame.

Harsh? But war and CowID showed
Exactly how the story goes.
Few stand tall, the rest just flow—
The world, in sum, is less than Low.



---------------------



Not venality

Monet, Renoir—
Did they chase gold,
Or let pure light
In art unfold?

Corruption is rot,
Yet stand and fight—
Serve truth and light,
Though lost to night.



--- Total 10 poems. ---

“What?” and “where?” and “when?”—who cares?
Ask instead the “how?” that dares.
Fraud and trivia, bought and sold,
Strengthen chaos, dullness, mold.

First three serve just skill and lore,
But the fourth breaks through the door—
Leaps to realms unknown, untried.
“How?”—dare even cliffs abide!

Year by year, the frames grow tight;
The World Camp looms—a choking blight.
But with “how?” you live, not drift.
Not “like all”—a conscious shift.


In Russian:

Три тупых вопроса и четвёртый умный

"Что?" и "где?", "когда?" — не важно:
Творческим вопросом "как?".
Ерундиция, продажность
Крепят тупость и бардак.

Первых три — лишь "гибкость", память,
А чётвёртый есть прорыв
В неизвестное. Вне рамок
Быть здесь как? Хотя б в обрыв! —

Рамки с каждым годом жёстче:
Мировой Концлагерь ждёт.
Если "как?", живёшь не проще:
Не "как все" — не идиот!..

Brief is the joy in the struggle and strain,
If you refuse to descend into shame.
Downward through darkness, all generations
March, having buried their higher ambitions.

"Through Time. Through Illusion."
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT


I. Cut the Frame

Time is a cage.
Thought is decay.
Cut through the veil —
Burn through the play.

II. The Lie of Now

Clocks are gods
For minds that sleep.
Silence knows —
It cuts too deep.

III. Beyond the Loop

No name, no form,
No weight, no chain.
Step outside
The world of pain.

IV. The Razor

The moment flickers.
Slice it clean.
You are not
This dying screen.

V. No More Hours

The tick is poison.
The plan is fake.
You are the storm
They tried to break.

VI. Uncode the Mind

Each thought’s a lock.
Each name — a lie.
Strip it all.
Then learn to fly.

VII. The Death of Sequence

There is no “next.”
No path to climb.
The Now is a glitch.
Unplug from time.

VIII. Flame Memory

They gave you clocks
To **** your spark.
Recall the fire —
Strike through the dark.

IX. Ghost of Control

Choice is a script.
Control’s a mask.
Burn the script —
Begin the task.

X. Exit Node

Beyond the frame,
No code remains.
Only the Witness —
No tracks. No chains.

XI. Collapse Code

The clock has cracked.
The self is torn.
Through silent void
A spark is born.

XII. The Burn Phase

Let it all fall.
Let names dissolve.
The core ignites —
You don’t evolve.

XIII. Anti-Form

No shape remains.
No ground to keep.
What dies in light
Was never deep.

XIV. Black Silence

This is the dark
They fear to know.
But in that black —
You start to glow.

XV. The Breach

No prayer. No sign.
Just breathless break.
You are the breach
The veils forsake.

XVI. Signal of Origin

No language here.
No face, no fear.
But in the hush —
The Source draws near.

XVII. Return Without Return

No step back —
No past to claim.
You walk a path
Without a name.

XVIII. The Invisible Thread

Unseen, untouched,
The line that binds —
Beyond the mind,
Beyond all kinds.

XIX. The Silent Flame

No roar, no shout,
Just steady glow.
The flame inside
That none can know.

**. The Endless Edge

Sharp as void,
Cutting thin.
No end, no edge —
The world within.

XXI. The Hidden Core

Beneath the noise,
Beneath the lies,
The core remains —
It never dies.

XXII. Light Without Form

No shape to hold,
No face to find,
Just pure light,
Beyond the mind.


Afterword

This cycle is not just words — it’s a call, a blade cutting through the fog of false time and false selves.
We live in cages built by the tick of clocks and the chains of thought. The “flow” we worship is often just a loop — a trap for the mind and spirit.
But beyond this loop lies the rupture, the breach, the breakthrough. Here, the old order collapses, and from the ashes, a new light is born — silent, invisible, yet sharper than any blade.

This is the path of the rebirth beyond time — where freedom is not a place but a state beyond form, beyond name, beyond the endless cycle of illusion.
If these words find a spark within you, do not hesitate — burn through the veil, shatter the chains, and step beyond.
Because waiting in the shadow of clocks is only decay. The true journey starts now, where time ends.

TNT Equivalent of "Ideas"

A bullet’s blind, but "ideas"
Strike with force and sharp precision.
Now enslaved are all, defeated,
By a horde of blind submission.

For generations, we've been taught
Foolish lies to keep us caught,
Torn away from what the Soul
Whispers, trying to keep us whole.

But for madmen, "thoughts" bring healing—
Madness stronger, more appealing.
Floods of nonsense drown the wise;
Trust the LIARS—you’re despised.

Hear your Soul and doubt the preaching,
See how Evil keeps repeating.
In those "truths" its cycle shows—
And you’ll know their worth is close to zero.



---------------------



Olympics in London

CowID agenda—
It must be displayed!
The same old "defenders"
Work hard, undismayed.

Their duty? To warn us,
To spread it beforehand,
No riddles to warn us,
No twists—just a plain hand.

The hag, grim and clever,
Declared with no shame:
"A new age—forever...
The drama's endgame!"



---------------------



To Fall or Not to Fall?

To survive, to play it right—
Fall to Hell, embrace the night.
Better yet—just chase the throne,
Serve the SHADOWS, not your own.

Fade away—or dare to shine,
Speak your soul, let wisdom climb!



---------------------



A World Distorted by False Science

A twisted world, a broken view—
False "science" makes it seem so true.
Its goal? To raise a mindless fool,
And if you trust—you're just a tool.

They feed you lies, erase the Soul,
Blind the world—divide, control.
Their scholars bow to those who rule,
Deceitful servants—cunning, cruel.

See the beasts, their minds confined,
Like Pavlov’s cattle, trapped, resigned.
Faith in falsehood shapes their fate—
Marching dumb to science fake.

Truth is gone—who needs the proof?
Dogma reigns—no need for truth.
Reason lost, they heed the call—
Two-legged beasts devour it all.



---------------------



Pskov Paratroopers in Ukraine, 2014

Pskov’s troops went rolling in,
Crossed the line in wool and tin.
"Just a break," they said—"Alright,
What a perfect place to fight!"

Shooting’s fun—until you fall,
Bullets don’t ask names at all.
"Leaders" lie with all their might,
Turn the TV—see the sight:

"Nazis here, a threat so grand!"
Pure deceit—a sleight of hand.
Thus were born the brainwashed horde,
Slaves to lies, to "Z" adorned.



---------------------



Petro Poroshenko

Poroshenko, years ahead,
Was a creep—enough was said.
Lies and filth—his heart's delight,
And the mob just cheered him bright.

Mob or people? What's the score?
When they vote a boxer—mob.
Trash floats higher—rules the floor,
Freedom? Never. Just a fob.

Yet that trash is pre-arranged
Not by crowds, but those unseen.
From the lineup, fools deranged
Choose the liar they call king.



---------------------



Tokyo Olympics

Games postponed, yet here they stand,
Masked-up "athletes" on demand.
Even Orwell, sharp and keen,
Never guessed this wild scene.

CowID rules—absurd, extreme,
Darker than a nightmare’s dream.
Minds are buried, reason’s gone,
Sheep-lined world—marching on.



---------------------



Sleep Deprivation Kills

Lack of sleep is worse than pain,
Drains your mind with each new strain.
Step by step, as strength declines,
Dreams will fade, lost to time.

Rest enough—don’t push too hard,
Creativity’s a spark
Only lit when you’re renewed,
Bringing change with power true.



---------------------



The Allegory of Show Jumping

A horse of grace, a fool astride,
Yet for the crowd, he’s praised with pride.
But time will come—just wait and see,
He’ll take the fall—inevitably.

The world’s a course, absurd and grim,
Its folly neither new nor dim.
Riders hollow, cold as stone—
The BEASTS rejoice—they're on the throne.



---------------------



A Garden for Firewood

"The homeland’s smoke is sweet and bright!"
— A. Griboedov

Souls run empty, cold inside—
Bread and circuses provide.
All they see is dull and grim,
Like the stench of choking brim.

Smoke, like poison in the air,
Burns the heart beyond repair.
"Bow to madness, bear it all!"
Fools are taught since they are small.

Shun the "saplings"—grow alone,
Blossom in the wild, unknown.
Planted there to fuel the flame,
They will burn—to ash, to shame.

Soon the sun will set it right,
Fire rising, smoke in flight.
Let it smother—let them choke,
Time to think—forget the smoke!



---------------------



With Every Year

With every year, the task grows tough,
To clear the lies, to call their bluff.
As ignorance spreads, it grows more vile,
And beasts grow bolder, worse in style,

Driving the world to depths below—
The lies, the fools, they steal the show.



---------------------



To Drag and Keep

Drag them down, don’t let them rise,
Pull again, with bitter lies.
To deceive, without a care—
That’s the mark of those in power’s snare.



---------------------



Rest for Body, Rest for Mind

Rest the body, rest the mind,
Honor Nature, you will find
That when you push yourself too hard,
Your goals will fade, your strength will guard.



---------------------



The **** of Real Shadow Power

"Free press" is silenced, all of it tight,
In the CowID era, spreading false light.
Politicians-clowns — no power to wield,
Just **** beneath, with nothing to yield.



---------------------



The Corrupt "Subculture"

Editors, chief,
Ministry's belief—
All are for sale,
A twisted tale.
In Evil's wheel,
When skins reveal.



---------------------



The End of the World

We draw the line:
The world’s decline,
And all will fall into the flame,
For two-thirds are blind to shame.
Soullessness spread like a disease—
And we, in truth, are none but fleas.



---------------------



Propaganda

Stop! It's trash—
Beasts' loud clash!
That’s the media,
Believe it? Fool, you are.



---------------------



Zombie Warriors

The macho rides
Towards his foe.
Who’s the enemy?
The media will show!



---------------------



Versification

The opening line must strike with might—
Then all the verse will burn so bright.
Or at the least, stay true, sincere—
Without that fire, none will hear.



---------------------



News of the Coming Digital Chaos—Or Rather, a Camp

Honor or bread—
Soon the test.
Hear the news:
World's a mess.



---------------------



Fatigue

Drained out—
No doubt,
Fire’s out.
Wait till
Strength returns,
Then fight and burn—
If you’ve got will.



---------------------



"Sages"

These "yard-born sages," wise and grand,
Think like sheep—don’t understand.
Led on leashes, blind, they go,
Slaughter-bound by those they know.



---------------------



Two Paths

"Life’s no field to simply cross."
— Old proverb

Crossing life like field so wide?
Just jump in place—enjoy the ride.
Dare to walk beyond, go far?
The mob will call you a fool, bizarre.



---------------------



Changes

What comes next?
It’s hard to tell...
In plain words—
A fool as well.



---------------------



Fencing

A dulled-off blade, yet swift it flies.
The first to strike—the first who's right.
As for the one who bravely dies?
Forgotten soon by cautious might.



--- Total 25 poems. ---

It all comes down to TNT,
It must flow in your veins, you see.
This dim-wit world — just say the word,
And they'll charge forth, like a blinded herd.

To the ravine, they'll blindly tread,
Blood-stained hands, by banners led.
Write in law new fascist codes,
March to hate on darkened roads.

Not a fool, nor lost in haze,
Spill your blood, ignite the blaze.
In the Ravine of Evil deep,
With TNT, no soul shall sleep.

Stock your veins with fire’s might,
Hesitate, you'll lose the fight.
Gather strength, for soon they'll call:
“Fools, charge forward, give your all!”

Only TNT feeds reason now,
It arms the heart, it shows you how.
To perish with it, pure and true,
Redeems the soul, renews its hue.


In Russian:

Тротил в крови

Весь вопрос в тротиле.
Должен быть в крови
Он. Мирок дебилий:
Только позови,

И пойдёт к оврагу.
Кровью полон он
Будет — только флагом
Помаши, в "закон"

Пропиши фашизма
Новые статьи.
Чуждый кретинизма,
Кровь свою пусти

В Зла овраг. С тротилом
Коль она, взорвёшь
Часть хотя бы. Силы
Копишь — пропадёшь.

Накопляй тротила
Свой в крови запас:
Скоро всем дебилам
Снова крикнут "фас!"

Разум лишь тротилом
Можно днесь питать.
Погибать с ним мило —
Душу тем спасать.

The beastly order shapes the way—
It trains the herd to bleat and moo.
And even minds will go astray
If they embrace the lies of Ruin.

So sharpen doubt, stay bold and wise,
Let intuition be your guide.
Reject the Lie—you’ll rise and rise,
Believe in it—you’re beast inside.

With furious force, I strike the wall—
There’s no way out, no choice at all.
A fool I seem to those nearby,
But to the kind—a distant light.


In Russian:

Со страшной силой в стену биться —
Иного выхода здесь нет.
Пускай для "ближних" ты тупица,
Для чутких — отдалённый свет.

Tolerastia

Tolerance—just blind endurance
Of the twisted and obscene.
Lies and greed **** all assurance—
Fighting FILTH is hard, unseen.

Law’s true goal? No—DECOMPOSING
All the weak who dare comply.
Serving Satan, fate imposing—
Fools won’t get the reason why...



---------------------



Never hope for due salvation,
Never call yourself so pure.
Through your toil and dedication,
Seek the Light—stay strong, endure.

Let your voice, though small and fleeting,
Stir the madness, shake the norm,
Bringing glimpses, briefly meeting
Those in need before the storm.

Pain is plenty. Yet when finding
Even cracks where light breaks through,
You’ll respond with understanding
To this world—its faith untrue.



---------------------



The Wit and the Herd

Shouting truth? To sheep? To fools?
Sheep exist for shearers' tools.
Pigs are caged by stable rules.
All is lost—don’t cry, stay cool.

Few escape the devil’s net—
That’s his game, a winning bet.
Words won’t wake the mindless set,
Clever wit won’t save them yet...



---------------------



Cry or not, the blade won’t wait—
Execution comes on cue.
This "world order" feeds the fate
Of the minds that twist askew.

For the sane, it spells demise—
CowID showed that, clear as day.
Lucifer just laughs at lies,
While Pure Shame lurks in the fray.



---------------------



Eternal Pioneers

Lords and sirs and… dark illusions
Rule the world—what wicked fate!
"Pioneers" embrace delusions,
Worship all that breeds the Hate.



---------------------



Pioneers of Consume

All foundations? We will burn them,
Toss them out without regret!
Faster gadgets—we must earn them,
Drive the world to grave, and yet…

Short-lived pleasures, all-consuming—
Bow and feast, obey the trend!
Lies and filth run life’s programming:
Honest? Then you’ll break, my friend.

Think you're smart? Then you’ll be sinking,
Dragged down deep—no way to climb.
Brains can’t beat the rot we're drinking,
Drowning bright minds in the grime.

Stench? It’s global, we don’t mind it,
Cycles turn, the wheel’s in flow.
Swirling filth? Just sit behind it…
Popcorn’s ready—time for show!



---------------------



A Prison Without People

This world’s a joke,
Its mind is broken.
The frauds wear cloaks,
The herd stays spoken.

A prison stands,
Yet holds no nations.
The blind obey—
No revelation.

The lies run high,
Beyond all measure.
Just laugh or cry—
There’s no rock bottom.

But why, you ask?
The end is nearing.
Plague into flame!—
No more false meanings.



---------------------



Slave Morality

Slaves accept their morals,
Forced on them with ease.
Lies became the chorus,
Preached to keep the peace.

Harder to defend them—
Reason still remains,
Fading, but its embers
Fight against the chains.

Darkness spreads through nations,
Fascist rule ascends.
Madness—pure damnation,
Satan’s hand extends.

What this "virtue" harbors
Filth has made quite clear:
Humankind has fallen—
Shame is all that’s near.



---------------------



Rule of Darkness

— I just want some dinner.
— Eat your GMO.
— Hear a voice of wisdom?
— Scroll through filth below.

— Choose a real leader?
— Look, the Sewer waits,
Craving for the moment
To decide your fate.

"New" deceitful programs,
Drenched in ancient lies.
Darkness owns the servants,
Bound by blackmail ties.

Choice? There’s none—just cursing
All this filth and rot.
Darkness reigns—immersing
All in its own clot…



--- Total 9 poems. ---

First comes Tolerance—then Frailty,
Selfish, mindless, lost in daily.
Greed and blindness, trust forsaken,
Fear and falsehood rule the shaken.

In the Rashist Filth...

An old, gray nag, long past his glory,
Prepares to print his sacred lore.
"The crowd" will buy the same old story—
For fools believe it evermore.

Few minds remain, yet they’re excluded,
The “people” have no place for them.
And so, in darkness, undisputed,
All books were lost at fate’s command.

The Führer-madman keeps on preaching,
Three volumes filled with hollow lies.
But who recalls the past deceiving?
For now, this "people"—just a guise.



---------------------



Porridge, Masha—Fate of Ours

Eat your porridge, Masha dear,
Hear a tale of love and grace.
Yet beyond these stories here,
Good is lost without a trace.

All the world decays and crumbles,
Even fairy tales turn vile.
Modern ones are madman’s mumbles—
Have less cake, it’s not worthwhile.

You will need your strength, no question,
Through the Mire you’ll be led.
Fate allows no other direction—
Hell’s the path we all must tread.



---------------------



"Freedom" of Choice

******, Stalin, Mao, Lenin,
Pol ***, Mussolini’s lot...
Soon their paradise is pending—
Lay your neck beneath the slot.

Or, if you prefer, a hanging,
Or the rack—your choice is grand!
Is it freedom they are granting,
Or just Hell at your command?

CowID showed the world’s delusion,
How the "free" were bound in chains.
Now they hail AI’s intrusion,
Lies renewed with cold disdain.

A digital camp is rising,
Not for one, but all mankind.
Hell, by "choice," they are devising,
Where the warden’s gear-designed.



---------------------



Too Many Fools...

So many fools—who could have guessed?
Yet war has sealed their fate so grim.
For years, their land will know unrest,
And shame will never fade from them.

Will they atone? No, fools won’t bother—
A new führer will arise,
To preach "old values," like the other,
And blind them yet again with lies.

Again, he’ll "raise them from their knees,"
Again, they’ll march into the pyre.
No change will come—no hope, no peace,
For Folly's god is their empire.



---------------------



Olympics "twenty" slipped away,
Postponed a year—just one, no more.
The brutes bent all without delay,
For fools still rule this world’s décor.

And worse awaits—just watch them dreaming,
Their twisted minds know no restraint.
A führer raves, his madness screaming:
"We’ve risen strong!"—a bold complaint.

Now he proclaims his grand invasion,
Berlin must shake, D.C. must kneel!
But lies will soon outgrow persuasion,
And reason’s death will be their seal...



---------------------



The Trained Buffoon

A trained buffoon—half-beast, half-human,
A man in name, yet little more.
A scavenger, forever doomed and
Bound to serve the beasts in store.

The wretched sellouts fail to notice
They're mere prey within the snare.
Their masters’ grip is cold and soulless,
Though it feels like thinner air.

Waves unseen engulf their senses,
Sapping will both night and day.
Feeding on their drained defenses,
Stealing souls along the way.

But hear your Heart—its voice still lingers,
Whispering truths they want unknown.
Maybe then, through fate’s cold fingers,
You will claim what is your own...



---------------------



Self-Deception

Self-deception­ starts so early,
A veil for truths they cannot face.
For sheep stay mute while fires fury,
Content within their fenced embrace.

They tell themselves they're free and guided,
That fate is theirs to rule and steer,
Yet march in line—no choice provided,
Straight to the ***, year after year.

The ruthless ways are not for madness,
They shape a world where sheep obey.
And shepherds preach, in hollow gladness:
"Peace and labor! First of May!"



---------------------



Insanity

Insanity’s when flesh and bone
Suppress the soul, and leave it weak.
The fools are many, cold as stone—
Where inhumanity will speak.

Delusion, madness, fear that binds,
A venom’s grip, a poison’s seed.
The depths of evil’s cruel designs—
Our fate is lost, its course decreed.



---------------------



Fear

Fear has entered, then has gone,
But tyranny remains, lives on.
In youth, it’s taught as "order’s" way,
A truth they’re told, a price to pay.

It drives the mind to think no more,
Replaces thought with shadows’ lore—
And from that void, a twisted mind
Is shaped by greed, by fear, confined.



---------------------



I Remember a Lovely Moment

I remember a moment so sweet,
When we said goodbye, you and I.
For years, after that parting's defeat,
A different sorrow filled my sky.



---------------------



So Many Fools

There are many fools around,
Plus informants, watch your back!
Still believe in God’s profound?
He’s the horned one—take a crack!



---------------------



Folly Organized

Folly's organized and bound,
Built on lies that twist and twine.
Gaia’s lost, her will unwound—
To Moloch she’s confined.



---------------------



The Path Through Dread

The path goes through the dread, the mire,
The soul’s the essence, don’t inquire.
If lost along the way you stray,
Just follow on, though you may sway!



---------------------



The Game Is Lost

The game is lost, the deck is rigged,
No chance to win, no path to stray.
So throw the cards into their grins—
The ones who took the game away...



---------------------



The Way of "States"

A bureaucrat will feed you lies,
And bribes will fill the boss’s hand.
Corruption stays, the truth just dies—
That’s how all "nations" rule the land.

Fake states alone—no others here,
As CowID made clear to see,
When swarms of vermin served with cheer
A reign of lies and lunacy.



---------------------



Buried Talents

Burying talents, then grieving the loss,
Fooled by cheap lies and propaganda's gloss—
So many people have chosen that fate,
Tricked into silence, surrender, and hate.

But such is the price when the Spark is denied:
The world turns to filth, with the Light pushed aside.
Where there's no fire, no soul to stay strong—
Darkness devours, and evil lives long.



---------------------



Dancing on the Ice

Dancing, prancing on the sea—
Though it's frozen, can't you see?
Once it melts, you’re sinking fast.
Such is Bottom dance at last.

That’s the goal the beasts embrace,
And they’ve done it with finesse.
The ice is thinning—cracks in place,
And now comes the great distress.



---------------------



The "Holy" Trinity

The Trinity divides in three:
A god, a ghost, a "father" high.
But God is just a fantasy—
A mask beneath a servant's lie.

This world was shaped by beastly schemes,
By Lucifer, their king declared.
And all is wrapped in smoky dreams
Of false beliefs that none have dared.



---------------------



The Iron Lie

The tempered iron, sharp and cruel,
No longer suits a modern slave.
"Work hard, play smart, obey the rule —
You'll reach the heights you truly crave!

Just save and strive, and you shall rise,
Grow rich beyond your wildest thought..."
That’s how they rule — with gilded lies.
You’ll die beneath them, fool, for naught.



---------------------



Vileness

"Politeness is but a fig leaf for selfishness."
— Arthur Schopenhauer


A fig leaf won’t conceal the rot,
Nor hide the filth, nor mask the stain.
It’s time to end this—like it or not,
No life should drown in dirt and pain.



---------------------



The Futility of Life

The fuss of this futile life,
It weighs down, it’s all I dread.
Only slugs and the dullest strife
Rejoice in life, with minds half-dead.



---------------------



The Precious Broadcast

A precious show, too hard to bear,
To listen to this twisted air—
Clowns who serve the beasts with cheer,
Unmoved, uncaring, year to year.



---------------------



Gulliver’s Fall

Gulliver, once bold and grand,
Now a Lilliputian, less than planned.
The dwarfs are now the ones held high,
Read the new books—they'll tell you why.



---------------------



Song of Deceit

Sing, oh song, across the sky!
That sky is filled with lies that fly—
And drifting there, the foolish roam,
"Real men" lost in their false home.



--- Total 24 poems. ---

All this torment is no jest —
It's the beasts that set the stage.
Like a parasite, they feast,
Draining life with silent rage.

Don’t scrape by—defy the fate!
Withdraw decisively, concentrate:
Break free from the asylum’s gloom,
Where they reduce you to a brute.

Futile toil, harsh and grim:
As fools are flogged on someone’s whim—
A bitter struggle to survive.
A lifetime sentence—worldwide!


In Russian:

Всю жизДнь сводить концы с концами?!

Концы с концами не своди —
Решительно в себя уйди:
Психически покинь Дурдом,
В котором делают скотом.

Напрасный труд реально лют:
Как плетью недоумков бьют —
То выживанья казусок.
Пожизненный ВСЕОБЩИЙ! срок!!!

To See Beyond

To truly see — not just through eyes —
Is how the Soul survives and flies.
This isn’t sight — it’s piercing through
The poisoned veil to what is true.

All "consciousness" is fog and fraud
If you believe — you’re just a cog.
Believe the BEASTS, their ****** show —
You **** your Mind. That’s all you know.

Let intuition light the core,
While critique burns like iodine —
It scorches lies, it breaks the door
Where chains of falsehood intertwine.

A trusting fool? Then brace to lose —
The BEASTS will tear the holy loose.
They breed soullessness like disease,
Expanding hell with quiet ease.




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1.
Believe the Beasts — your mind is dead,
Their filth is all you’ll think instead.

2.
To truly see is Soul’s defense —
Not eyes, but fire of inner sense.

3.
They breed the void, they flood the land —
With soulless hate and ****** hand.