5d
The Path to a Distant Land
The fascist lie, a shroud so tight,
Keeps minds in chains, obscures the light,
It molds the fools in fearful ranks,
And drives them deep to terror’s banks.
Their hollow cries grow wild, insane,
A twisted choir of grief and pain…
Yet still they march, yet still they kneel—
Blind to the fate they help to seal.
---------------------
Mammoth
Mammoth gone? No, mammoth stays!
Lies still guide his twisted ways.
Since the rules were first decreed—
Only he may learn and lead.
All alone, he claims the right,
Blind to truth beyond his sight.
Scorns the sense that whispers near,
Yet without it—lost in fear.
Sense is light, but he obeys
Black-and-white, the mind’s decay.
Trapped in logic, cold and grim,
Doom is certain, bound to him.
Falsehood fades, its time is done,
Truth will rise with morning’s sun.
A new world will shape and grow—
Where intuition reigns to know.
---------------------
Cupid and the Riders of the Apocalypse
Cupid, fool, your aim is wrong—
Love, when all won’t last for long?
Hooves are pounding, cold as stone,
Be their herald—ride, be gone!
Let your wings bring news to those
Pure of heart, still sensing fate.
See and check—the end soon shows.
Curse it loud, but don’t be late!
---------------------
The Eternal Song of Blatherskite
Suicide’s a wicked sin—
A waste of meat, yet he keeps driving
The herds to slaughter, kith and kin,
For ages—Blatherskite’s surviving.
He shifts his shape, he hides his face,
Yet still his song remains the same.
A traitor dares to shun the race
Of chains, enclosures, death, and shame.
---------------------
Roulette of Pseudo-Life
Odd and even, even, odd—
Yet this roulette seems so flawed:
Whole numbers spin—oh, can't you see?
I would rather bet on Pi.
Golden ratio haunts my mind,
Not a day it stays behind.
Every thought comes back to Phi,
While the world just sighs: "Oh my!"
Cash and status rule the game—
Roulette’s flaw remains the same.
So I place it all on zero,
Though it shines, it isn’t hero.
"Yes" or "no"—a mere machine,
But the world is in between.
Trust your senses, look around—
See the shades that can't be found…
---------------------
Twist Them Tight!
"The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure, and the intelligent are full of doubt."
— Bertrand Russell
No doubt! No fear! March on, be bold!
Our leader guides us to pure gold.
And if you’re not with us—beware!
He’ll raise his hand and shout: "Go tear!"
We’ll hunt them down, we’ll break their backs,
We’ll chase them, sniff out all their tracks.
Those clever fools—we’ll make them pay,
They’re spineless worms—so bend, obey!
Twist them tight and don’t delay!
Drag the nearest **** away!
A worthy foe is what we lack—
Once all those thinkers hit the sack,
Once madhouse doors and jails are filled,
We’ll march ahead, we won’t be stilled.
Against outsiders, strike and burn—
Our flag will fly, our ways will turn
Into the norm for mindless sheep
Who trust the lies, obey, don’t weep.
And those who dare to doubt—beware!
The weak in war have no place there.
---------------------
Brutodrome
Glad to serve!
Why observe
All those foolish dreams of mind?
In the FILTH, I'm feeling fine!
Bow and follow, praise the lie,
Evil wears a saintly guise.
Eat, breed, babble—don’t ask why,
Live it up—till no one dies…
---------------------
Distilling Rot into Rant
The system rots—it’s nothing new,
For centuries, we’ve watched it stew.
But now the rot itself has fled,
All that remains is stench and RANT.
Beyond this RANT, so few survive,
Once more, we’ll build—bring back to life
A world that’s torn, consumed by blight,
Worn-out, exhausted, drained of light.
---------------------
Humans and Humanoids
Ego will lead you into the void,
A hollow world, so loud, yet empty.
The worthy few stand unalloyed—
But who is real, and who pretends be?
It isn’t hard to tell apart—
Their eyes will shine or stare so lifeless.
Divided deep, in soul and heart,
Though outward marks are blurred and sightless.
That emptiness… it weighs us down,
Without paradox, life’s just fiction.
Darkness will claim its rightful crown—
CowID’s the test: the mice show friction.
---------------------
Chemtrails Reflect the Sun’s Fierce Rays
They spray the skies with chemtrail streams,
Not at night—so faint, they fade from sight…
By day, a silver veil redeems
The air from sunlight’s burning might.
The raging Sun keeps turning cruel,
Its scorching beams will leave no trace—
It burns the world, no shade, no fuel,
A prelude to the End of Days.
And fools stand blind—they cannot see,
No thought, no reason, none will heed.
The ones who think—not just agree—
Are cast aside by fools and freaks.
For those who know, one path remains:
A Spirit’s Road beyond this lie.
When this zoo burns in crimson flames,
Their souls will flee to worlds on high.
---------------------
A Touch of "Madness" for True Knowing
The Mine of Death—
A well of lies.
Go test it, lest
You pay the price.
The mind goes blind
In halls of lore—
But cracked, it finds
A sharper core.
Less of "facts"—
More sense, more feel.
All true knowledge
Drips, not spills.
Yet intuition, strong and wise,
May turn the trickle to a tide.
---------------------
Marine and "Nerd"
Marines—
They win.
The troops—
All in.
The "nerd"—a joke,
A pawn, a clown.
The bureaucrat—
He wears the crown.
A traitor’s praised,
A king of lies.
— Who needs the Lyre?
— It slowly dies...
The scholar, the crook,
The jester in power—
They poison the souls,
Make masses cower.
Deception reigns,
Truth is denied.
Who needs the Lyre?
Their life’s designed—
From bistro to the latrine aligned...
---------------------
"School"—So They Say
Memory overload’s the key—
To rot the school intentionally.
A fool’s no fluke, but just the rule,
As nonsense turns the mind to gruel.
And all the manners, all the grace—
Just tricks to keep deep thoughts erased.
---------------------
Rejecting Evil
We resist—yet we obey,
Bound by fear, we walk astray.
Then we stumble all our lives,
Turning all the world to dust.
Evil’s vast, corrupts the soul,
To reject it makes us whole.
Dare to stand, refuse to bend—
Cast the Darkness to its end.
---------------------
Intuition
To wake from coma—
Means to rise,
Leave the familiar
World behind.
Step toward Spirit—
Life is there.
Sense it, feel it—
Poets dare.
Push perception
To the brink.
Hard at first?
Just act—don’t think.
Mind surrenders,
Turns to steel.
Not by learning,
But to feel.
Answers come
Through keen insight,
Crushing nonsense
With its light.
Rant is coma—
Time to wake!
World’s a tumor—
Bend, you break.
---------------------
The Upside-Down Mountain
The pit grows deeper—digging down,
Still chasing bedrock, far below.
It’s damp and dark, no light, no ground,
Yet miners toil—their task is so.
The money flows? Then dig with pride!
They’ll carve a hole both vast and grand.
And books will tell the kids in time:
"That mountain once stood tall and planned."
A new pit comes, and youth will learn
To dig once more, to carve the past.
And doubts will fade, as echoes turn:
"Those men were heroes to the last!"
---------------------
"Choice"
A squirrel runs—round and round.
They shout: "You’re free to choose!"
Yet in her mind, so tightly bound,
Lies nothing but obtuse.
Pick a bar—you get to choose
Which one will keep you spinning.
Trapped in lies, they chase the ruse,
Convinced that they are winning.
Young ones learn to jump and race,
Never pause, just keep on striving.
No one dares to say: this "choice"
Is nothing but conniving.
---------------------
Sheep’s Strong Bonds
The ram obeys—his shepherd near,
No fear of staff, no horn to chide.
So too with men—through faith or fear,
They're bound by God and laws as guide.
---------------------
To the Artist
Forget the crowd, the board, their praise—
It's better to write and let it stay.
No need to bend, no need to stray—
Eternal works may find their way.
For watching the masses, fearing their call,
Where slaves are many—free minds are few,
Will turn the artist, the writer, them all,
To traitors lost—their talent through.
---------------------
Entertaining Chemistry, or "Nature’s Crown"
This chemistry is quite the art—
Not for school, but for the feast.
They twist our minds, they tear apart,
And turn the crowd into a beast.
The dumbing down that schools begin,
The rotten media refine.
Forget your will, give up, give in—
Your mind is nearly out of time.
For reason fades where fools are vast,
And idiots now set the tone.
Free thought? Too rare—it couldn’t last.
And fascist claws keep growing strong.
The future? None. A twisted tale
That nears its grim and final part.
We’re not the same, we’re bound to fail—
The crown will rot, then fall apart.
---------------------
Amidst the Filth...
The heroes took another way
And lived a little more than most.
Now only **** and rot remain—
Dark years ahead, a heavy cost.
The CowID, the war, the stage is set,
The filth expands, the chains grow tight.
With bravery gone, the Spirit spent,
There's no one left to stand and fight.
---------------------
The Dead, or The World Unmasked
No disguise—just "FAS!"—the call,
And fools rush in without a doubt.
Fascism suits us, after all—
The dead now freely walk about.
The living lost, the dead run wide—
No thrill or feast can break the spell.
And in their joy, they **** their ride—
For walking corpses, all is well.
--- Total 22 poems. ---
The fascist lie, a shroud so tight,
Keeps minds in chains, obscures the light,
It molds the fools in fearful ranks,
And drives them deep to terror’s banks.
Their hollow cries grow wild, insane,
A twisted choir of grief and pain…
Yet still they march, yet still they kneel—
Blind to the fate they help to seal.
---------------------
Mammoth
Mammoth gone? No, mammoth stays!
Lies still guide his twisted ways.
Since the rules were first decreed—
Only he may learn and lead.
All alone, he claims the right,
Blind to truth beyond his sight.
Scorns the sense that whispers near,
Yet without it—lost in fear.
Sense is light, but he obeys
Black-and-white, the mind’s decay.
Trapped in logic, cold and grim,
Doom is certain, bound to him.
Falsehood fades, its time is done,
Truth will rise with morning’s sun.
A new world will shape and grow—
Where intuition reigns to know.
---------------------
Cupid and the Riders of the Apocalypse
Cupid, fool, your aim is wrong—
Love, when all won’t last for long?
Hooves are pounding, cold as stone,
Be their herald—ride, be gone!
Let your wings bring news to those
Pure of heart, still sensing fate.
See and check—the end soon shows.
Curse it loud, but don’t be late!
---------------------
The Eternal Song of Blatherskite
Suicide’s a wicked sin—
A waste of meat, yet he keeps driving
The herds to slaughter, kith and kin,
For ages—Blatherskite’s surviving.
He shifts his shape, he hides his face,
Yet still his song remains the same.
A traitor dares to shun the race
Of chains, enclosures, death, and shame.
---------------------
Roulette of Pseudo-Life
Odd and even, even, odd—
Yet this roulette seems so flawed:
Whole numbers spin—oh, can't you see?
I would rather bet on Pi.
Golden ratio haunts my mind,
Not a day it stays behind.
Every thought comes back to Phi,
While the world just sighs: "Oh my!"
Cash and status rule the game—
Roulette’s flaw remains the same.
So I place it all on zero,
Though it shines, it isn’t hero.
"Yes" or "no"—a mere machine,
But the world is in between.
Trust your senses, look around—
See the shades that can't be found…
---------------------
Twist Them Tight!
"The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure, and the intelligent are full of doubt."
— Bertrand Russell
No doubt! No fear! March on, be bold!
Our leader guides us to pure gold.
And if you’re not with us—beware!
He’ll raise his hand and shout: "Go tear!"
We’ll hunt them down, we’ll break their backs,
We’ll chase them, sniff out all their tracks.
Those clever fools—we’ll make them pay,
They’re spineless worms—so bend, obey!
Twist them tight and don’t delay!
Drag the nearest **** away!
A worthy foe is what we lack—
Once all those thinkers hit the sack,
Once madhouse doors and jails are filled,
We’ll march ahead, we won’t be stilled.
Against outsiders, strike and burn—
Our flag will fly, our ways will turn
Into the norm for mindless sheep
Who trust the lies, obey, don’t weep.
And those who dare to doubt—beware!
The weak in war have no place there.
---------------------
Brutodrome
Glad to serve!
Why observe
All those foolish dreams of mind?
In the FILTH, I'm feeling fine!
Bow and follow, praise the lie,
Evil wears a saintly guise.
Eat, breed, babble—don’t ask why,
Live it up—till no one dies…
---------------------
Distilling Rot into Rant
The system rots—it’s nothing new,
For centuries, we’ve watched it stew.
But now the rot itself has fled,
All that remains is stench and RANT.
Beyond this RANT, so few survive,
Once more, we’ll build—bring back to life
A world that’s torn, consumed by blight,
Worn-out, exhausted, drained of light.
---------------------
Humans and Humanoids
Ego will lead you into the void,
A hollow world, so loud, yet empty.
The worthy few stand unalloyed—
But who is real, and who pretends be?
It isn’t hard to tell apart—
Their eyes will shine or stare so lifeless.
Divided deep, in soul and heart,
Though outward marks are blurred and sightless.
That emptiness… it weighs us down,
Without paradox, life’s just fiction.
Darkness will claim its rightful crown—
CowID’s the test: the mice show friction.
---------------------
Chemtrails Reflect the Sun’s Fierce Rays
They spray the skies with chemtrail streams,
Not at night—so faint, they fade from sight…
By day, a silver veil redeems
The air from sunlight’s burning might.
The raging Sun keeps turning cruel,
Its scorching beams will leave no trace—
It burns the world, no shade, no fuel,
A prelude to the End of Days.
And fools stand blind—they cannot see,
No thought, no reason, none will heed.
The ones who think—not just agree—
Are cast aside by fools and freaks.
For those who know, one path remains:
A Spirit’s Road beyond this lie.
When this zoo burns in crimson flames,
Their souls will flee to worlds on high.
---------------------
A Touch of "Madness" for True Knowing
The Mine of Death—
A well of lies.
Go test it, lest
You pay the price.
The mind goes blind
In halls of lore—
But cracked, it finds
A sharper core.
Less of "facts"—
More sense, more feel.
All true knowledge
Drips, not spills.
Yet intuition, strong and wise,
May turn the trickle to a tide.
---------------------
Marine and "Nerd"
Marines—
They win.
The troops—
All in.
The "nerd"—a joke,
A pawn, a clown.
The bureaucrat—
He wears the crown.
A traitor’s praised,
A king of lies.
— Who needs the Lyre?
— It slowly dies...
The scholar, the crook,
The jester in power—
They poison the souls,
Make masses cower.
Deception reigns,
Truth is denied.
Who needs the Lyre?
Their life’s designed—
From bistro to the latrine aligned...
---------------------
"School"—So They Say
Memory overload’s the key—
To rot the school intentionally.
A fool’s no fluke, but just the rule,
As nonsense turns the mind to gruel.
And all the manners, all the grace—
Just tricks to keep deep thoughts erased.
---------------------
Rejecting Evil
We resist—yet we obey,
Bound by fear, we walk astray.
Then we stumble all our lives,
Turning all the world to dust.
Evil’s vast, corrupts the soul,
To reject it makes us whole.
Dare to stand, refuse to bend—
Cast the Darkness to its end.
---------------------
Intuition
To wake from coma—
Means to rise,
Leave the familiar
World behind.
Step toward Spirit—
Life is there.
Sense it, feel it—
Poets dare.
Push perception
To the brink.
Hard at first?
Just act—don’t think.
Mind surrenders,
Turns to steel.
Not by learning,
But to feel.
Answers come
Through keen insight,
Crushing nonsense
With its light.
Rant is coma—
Time to wake!
World’s a tumor—
Bend, you break.
---------------------
The Upside-Down Mountain
The pit grows deeper—digging down,
Still chasing bedrock, far below.
It’s damp and dark, no light, no ground,
Yet miners toil—their task is so.
The money flows? Then dig with pride!
They’ll carve a hole both vast and grand.
And books will tell the kids in time:
"That mountain once stood tall and planned."
A new pit comes, and youth will learn
To dig once more, to carve the past.
And doubts will fade, as echoes turn:
"Those men were heroes to the last!"
---------------------
"Choice"
A squirrel runs—round and round.
They shout: "You’re free to choose!"
Yet in her mind, so tightly bound,
Lies nothing but obtuse.
Pick a bar—you get to choose
Which one will keep you spinning.
Trapped in lies, they chase the ruse,
Convinced that they are winning.
Young ones learn to jump and race,
Never pause, just keep on striving.
No one dares to say: this "choice"
Is nothing but conniving.
---------------------
Sheep’s Strong Bonds
The ram obeys—his shepherd near,
No fear of staff, no horn to chide.
So too with men—through faith or fear,
They're bound by God and laws as guide.
---------------------
To the Artist
Forget the crowd, the board, their praise—
It's better to write and let it stay.
No need to bend, no need to stray—
Eternal works may find their way.
For watching the masses, fearing their call,
Where slaves are many—free minds are few,
Will turn the artist, the writer, them all,
To traitors lost—their talent through.
---------------------
Entertaining Chemistry, or "Nature’s Crown"
This chemistry is quite the art—
Not for school, but for the feast.
They twist our minds, they tear apart,
And turn the crowd into a beast.
The dumbing down that schools begin,
The rotten media refine.
Forget your will, give up, give in—
Your mind is nearly out of time.
For reason fades where fools are vast,
And idiots now set the tone.
Free thought? Too rare—it couldn’t last.
And fascist claws keep growing strong.
The future? None. A twisted tale
That nears its grim and final part.
We’re not the same, we’re bound to fail—
The crown will rot, then fall apart.
---------------------
Amidst the Filth...
The heroes took another way
And lived a little more than most.
Now only **** and rot remain—
Dark years ahead, a heavy cost.
The CowID, the war, the stage is set,
The filth expands, the chains grow tight.
With bravery gone, the Spirit spent,
There's no one left to stand and fight.
---------------------
The Dead, or The World Unmasked
No disguise—just "FAS!"—the call,
And fools rush in without a doubt.
Fascism suits us, after all—
The dead now freely walk about.
The living lost, the dead run wide—
No thrill or feast can break the spell.
And in their joy, they **** their ride—
For walking corpses, all is well.
--- Total 22 poems. ---
