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En l’an trentiesme do mon aage
    Que toutes mes hontes j’ay beues…


Pipit sate upright in her chair
     Some distance from where I was sitting;
Views of the Oxford Colleges
     Lay on the table, with the knitting.

Daguerreotypes and silhouettes,
     Her grandfather and great great aunts,
Supported on the mantelpiece
     An Invitation to the Dance.

     . . . . .

I shall not want Honour in Heaven
     For I shall meet Sir Philip Sidney
And have talk with Coriolanus
     And other heroes of that kidney.

I shall not want Capital in Heaven
     For I shall meet Sir Alfred Mond.
We two shall lie together, lapt
     In a five per cent. Exchequer Bond.

I shall not want Society in Heaven,
     Lucretia Borgia shall be my Bride;
Her anecdotes will be more amusing
     Than Pipit’s experience could provide.

I shall not want Pipit in Heaven:
     Madame Blavatsky will instruct me
In the Seven Sacred Trances;
     Piccarda de Donati will conduct me.

     . . . . .

But where is the penny world I bought
     To eat with Pipit behind the screen?
The red-eyed scavengers are creeping
     From Kentish Town and Golder’s Green;

Where are the eagles and the trumpets?

     Buried beneath some snow-deep Alps.
Over buttered scones and crumpets
     Weeping, weeping multitudes
Droop in a hundred A.B.C.’s
Universal Thrum Aug 2019
Vaguely I recall a dream
ripping out handfuls of nose hairs
the black bristles like bundled corn stalks
filling my palms

Madame can you tell me
what it means?
its all blavatsky to me
Yes, I'm looking deeper
into your magic crystal ball
its shape so revealingly smooth
scraping the barrel both ways
feels worn but still slightly good

how much will this coffee cost me?
Does the girl behind the counter know her *******
are poking through the green cotton shirt
tightly hugging, transfixing
with afro nose ring red ivory skin
handfuls of round large lifted ******* protruding and
mystically speaking to me in tongues, sha la la la,
with the pull of gravity,
the pull of generations triumph and **** animal fuckery
I look for the clue,
for the answer to the why of the hard ******

for to hold this shining example of proportion
to taste her and feel her with every bit of my own
it feels like I would give up everything
leave my lover,
break laws and oaths
yet here I am tempered by the moment,
eyes on a dollar going into the tip jar, i hear her thanks
my girl placidly rocking in a chair outside

"."

sweet home girl brings me succulents
in a dirt birds nest
now sitting in a sunny window sill beside
my mothers mothers christmas cactus,
one alive one wilted
I sigh at the thought of explaining the poetic meaning
regarding photos in frames
and look into the colored glass arranged
in blues and greens pinks and white
clear mother of pearl sheen glittering crystal
scarlet begonias and pink plumeria
among a coastal green auburn mountain river valley
leading to the sea

the fragrance of the cold hardy mimosa tree bloom at night
revived my spirit
after fainting from the heat
disassociating amongst the crowd
packed into stadium bleachers
receiving blasting electric guitar scoots and boots
third octave wails
John Mayer

get this
before the band takes the stage
as the lights go out
a grown man screams full throated war yip
into the back of my skull

I might have slipped into a concussion then

fitting the dose

a man brings me a beer I tell him I don't want
and won't drink, but for a sip
and for a moment I think I'm poisoned
sick from the gas or the slipped mickey
my skin leaks into a cool film
and on the precipice of the shake out
crumpled into the fold out chair
somehow I'm breathing
standing and escaping
into the flouresent halls
and into a white tile bathroom
in a mirror my skin a whiter shade of pale
than the clogged porcelain
on my way out into the streets,
touched by the warm summer air
a louse attempts to fill me in on marriage,
flagellating himself for some unseen ex-wife

I tell him to leave me alone
and the simplicity and elegance of candor
disarms him long enough
for the burracho to grunt
"Never get married.....you look like you should be left alone"

Earlier in the day
I walked into a head shop
to buy papers
the guy at the counter asked if I had ID
I don't
He said he can't sell without ID
smirking with a thumbs up
I dropped three doll hairs on the glass counter
and put the papers in my pocket

Love always, until its sometimes, then its never

but then again,

Cue Kipling
low and slow
Chikelu Eshe May 2017
satisfaction when falling
into the bottomless
two minutes slip by

all my lifetime of trying to recognize
spiritual masters, instead -
potential parents
flood the tunnels with the bad manners and
dressed in dark grey and green

such repugnance -
decadent as **** malevich
i crawl into his smoky rib cage
forget that the language
is dead.
he pauses, rushes and pants
paints his face skeleton
eyelids blank like i pictured - but
no seattle sound. math rock and machines going off they rocker
no rolling stone
**** her string along that neck
come back reborn. shut the door
collapse in the bathroom, throwing up
into the telephone -
sa ding **** made up words
or looped cuban songs -
back in the day is gone
not anymore not anymore

what do ripped jeans mean to you?
or 16th century persian poets?
when your mind is set afire
swarthed
you like women in klimt’s canvas
light beams through your slits
so you won’t drown in
ruthless thoughts stream
when your deafened ear catches
the ovations
pervading, dying blue note
still not the ending

madame blavatsky unfolding the envelope:
i’m the circle on palm leaf manuscripts
with a dot in the middle -
you’re the reason. the clarity and the void
the eye in between
the missing capstone, i am the folklore
strange beings with fishtail and
i might be the lizard
king, violet violent dressed in crimson
you squeezing them lemons
tequila so creamy
when spiky black leather rips through
the wires, sound effects are your favorite
print shops, in them zines. your dialect
you savor - licking your lips,
saturated and smeared, paranoid
black sabbatical
moon-kissed.

i know you all umbilical visceral
bite your teeth into and cut
catalonia - two halves, dry mouth
and scorching sun
you know i’m subtler than the red
a lotus flower growing in the west
silk sheets in ultraviolet, as soon as
you come to rest
i can smell the war in your curl
jet black and charcoal -
no matte.

no hole in your chest - yet
microchips, they flicker
under your skin as the muscles twitch
in the rem sleep;
black madonna’s humble soft gaze
through the painted veil. marble or onyx
did you feel defeated? when you’ve fallen?
into the bottomless - unknowing
fungus-like growing
upsidedown along with the
torus

cycles and waves, when it’s not subatomic
i wish we’d perceived past the
electromagnetic; distant planets and stars
tease my potential. if only
i wasn’t eclectic, if only
i was in zazen

i accept; sit back sense the vibrations
mind-vacuumed perception not split into parts;
a black whole: if you, color, still there
up high; this deceiving metronome
sound time-travelling in circles
splashes across; carmen in carmine
a girl walks home alone
feline; l'via, cygnus,
jimi,
come on
why don’t you set me free
Johnny Noiπ Feb 2019
The third is good, but it is not
divine, and our clichés of corporeal
and social psychology or auto
stereotyping are described
as part of the process of social
identity, and especially when
learning about the class of oneself.
The cliché occurs when a person
measures himself by almost
common characteristics,
that is, clichés or group prototypes
for the concept. The second is,
probably, belonging to a group
is a sense of self-esteem
and self-esteem, with the same
processor and the same life
to influence the cognitive categories.
In other words, if the same group
of Directors of men as a member
of this group, and he is of the group,
membership integrated into
the identity of the person. Self
described as a form of self-cliché
was perceived as a member group
of totally interchangeable
depersonalization of the total.

The growth of social identity
can move the team and individual
behaviors directly to the decrease
in the coincidence of personal
identity. Stereotypes
are characterized by
an overlap between human
society and the consumer,
and how they represent themselves.
More inclined to establish
their own state than the stereotypes
of the members of high-low
status. The studies should refer
to the low status of the members
of the group, referring
to the human person of himself
through a process of reasoning
of nature. In other words,
the characters are uniformly
positive and negative
that express their groups.

However, group members are generally
reasonably high in the individual
characteristics of the group's cognitive-induction
strategies to group failure. Stereotypes
of gender self-study seek groups
of women and the upper class of their
own lower class male group.
For the modern inequality between
the sexes exists. Now he is the
stereotype of women who show
men to him. In addition, the special
class identified a key mechanism
that underlies the tendency to form
the cliché of women's self. Some
researchers found that the self-cliché
to a certain extent, depends
on the person who believes
that the business is changing.
If one believes that different
needs groups so companies
need to customize their own
group expression. But if the other
team members can change
flexibility, they are more likely
to be an image of themselves
and not stereotypes. Fit people
tend to live more easily with
grades if that changes, and they can.

Therefore, we simply refer to a group
of volunteers, but the meat sacrifices
that have since assumed that he was  
a member of the act in the world,
but by the nature of nature or the name
of that celestial nature and all this in
advance, and preserved around the city.

"In the 15th century, most
of the modern era will begin" physically
"or" Tiaodorizm "Exorcism of the Western
world" transparency "in the Western
world, Teófilo" Christian Jews "Christian
theology P. Blavatsky Greek cosmetics
movement is not enough. In 1889,
the Christian "saints", Christianity,
the Ethiopian eunuchs of Ethiopia,
to exclude the outside world,
Vladimir Nobobi 1853-1900,
has been anonymous: reality, false
principles of foreign experience,
knowledge, of course, and reasonable,
that the "mystery" and the probability,
according to Htiaofilosofih
in 18 Brntz'on John 1696-1770
and the Greeks' no. "Greek term
of the eighth century, Kepenošofi" 
the wisdom of the eighteenth century,
as long as the alphabet is graffiti.
Independent Thinking

“Humanity—at least the bulk of it—hates independent thought.
Even the mildest call to step outside the beaten path and
judge for oneself is taken as an insult.”
—Helena Blavatsky


To think is hard. To think is fear:
That tidy world may disappear.
No gain awaits the soul that dares—
Just ruin, mockery, and stares.

A docile fool will point and bray:
"Hey look, a clown who lost his way!"
The tyrant’s hand will slap or bind—
For thought is treason, thought is crime.

Decades march the deathward track,
Where thought and spirit rot and crack.
Each dumbed-down age repeats the spell,
And helps pave highways straight to Hell.

The CowID plague made clear as day
How close that Hell now lies away—
Since three of four no longer think,
And gladly march right to the brink.

They serve the lie, obey, comply,
Assist the genocide with pride.
They help erase the final mind,
Turn souls to ashes, blind on blind.

And soulless idiots—far worse
Than Hell—now dominate the Earth.
Their fascist growth is running wild,
The world reduced to filth defiled.

From filth to Hell, one rotten chain—
When Mind and Spirit both are slain.
Wait just a bit... you’ll hear the sound—
The tyrant’s boot is inbound.



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



1.
From filth to fire the nations crawl—
When Mind is dead, the beasts rule all.

2.
They laughed at Thought — and cheered the chain,
Now ash and blood are all that remain.

3.
Obey. Comply. Repeat. Regret.
Your silence signs the death vignette.

4.
No thought — just sludge inside the skull,
And fascists feasting on the dull.




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



Milking 24/7 on the Global Farm

We milk the crowd nonstop, nonstop,
Three shifts deep — we never stop.
Through the ages, through the grime —
No sunrise comes. Just shift and time.

The Global Farm needs every drop,
Of loosh and fear — we run the shop.
Our nerves are steel, their minds are thin,
The weak of spirit never win.

We do what we want with the dumb, it's plain.
We smile and lie — they feel no pain.
Pretending care, we hide our track,
While stabbing fools behind their back.

CowID proved what care is worth:
They’ll take all shame upon this Earth.
Obeying all, no ounce of pride —
Just herds of apes with eyes shut wide.

And next comes better, trust us, friend:
A Digital Camp — your mindless end.
No need for tyrants with their fists —
Your thoughts are now the perfect cysts.

But one small wrinkle mars our bliss:
A Cataclysm is near — we hiss.
We’ve milked too long, and now the flood
Of Global Fascism drinks the blood.

What’s next, you ask? Another Hell.
Where demons rise, and loosh will swell.
Not from the sheep. They’re far too sad.
But from one ruthless, final Chad.




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



1.
Obey. Produce. And never ask.
The Farm is real. Remove the mask.

2.
You thought it’s care? It’s just a cage.
Your soul is fuel. Your fear — their wage.

3.
No tyrant’s needed, not today —
The chip inside will make you stay.

4.
You’re milked for fear, not flesh or bone.
And still you kneel. You scroll. You moan.

5.
The Final Hell is almost near —
Where demons drink what’s left of fear.



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



False Fleshhood — The Root of All Ruin

They’ve learned to glorify the shell,
To cage the soul in beastly cell —
A fleeting husk, a weak disguise,
Now hailed as truth. How deep the lies!

They blot out Spirit, Pure and Vast,
Replace it with a twitching cast
Of mutants crawling through the dirt —
And call that life, and praise the hurt.

Thus madness breeds in every womb.
This world’s a false and reeking tomb,
Where sacred fire is swapped for meat,
And idiots bow down in heat.

They proved it well — the CowID play:
No rare fools here — just blind decay.
"Reason" is a painted *****
Inside this filthy, stinking store.

They dream of honor in their cage,
While licking boots in cyber-rage.
No dignity — just grunts and chains,
As beasthood floods their rotting brains.

So crush the lie: you are not flesh!
There is no task more vital, fresh.
For only so the soul breaks through —
Or Hell awaits. It waits for you.




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



1.
You are not meat. You are not clay.
Forget that lie — or rot away.

2.
They sold your soul for skin and bone,
And called it “life” — you die alone.

3.
The Body’s not your final shape.
Believe that trash — there’s no escape.

4.
They made you flesh. You knelt and cheered.
Now Hell is close. Exactly as feared.

5.
**** the lie: “You are your skin.”
That’s where the Fall will first begin.



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



Flesh Is the Fraud
Poetic slogans from the War on the Lie

1.
You are not what bleeds and breaks.
You are what the System hates.

2.
They call you “body” — then make you crawl.
Stand as Spirit, or lose it all.

3.
The meat is branded. The soul is chained.
Break the body — or stay detained.

4.
They preach: “You’re flesh. Obey your fate.”
Say “no” — before it’s far too late.

5.
Not skin. Not blood. Not pain. Not bone.
The lie wants less. You are the Whole.

6.
If you're just body, death is king.
But you are fire. A sacred thing.




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



REVOLT AGAINST FLESH™
A Poetic Manifesto for the End of the Lie


“They teach you: ‘You are body — serve the herd.’
But Spirit waits, in one last word.”


I. Introduction: The Lie of the Body

They dressed you in bone,
Then whispered: "Obey."
The cage was called you,
And the guards? — DNA.

They sold you a name,
A number, a frame —
Then took out the fire
And left just the shame.

You walk like a ghost,
Half-eaten by screens,
Half-flesh, half-code,
All trapped in routines.

But this is the War —
And this is the Day.
No more to be meat.
No more to obey.


II. Anti-Fascism of the Soul
Break the Flesh-Obedience. Rise as Spirit.

The Body is the first disguise.
They brand your mind. They cage your skies.

They chipped your skull, then drained your will.
The body bowed — the soul stood still.

The new Fuhrers don’t shout or fight.
They feed you comfort. **** your Light.

The body’s weak. The herd is blind.
But Spirit strikes — beyond the grind.


III. Clay vs Flame
You were never dirt. You were always Fire.

They want you tame, they want you slow —
But Spirit burns. It doesn’t bow.

Your cage is warm. Your chains are soft.
They lull the soul. Then turn it off.

You’re not the clay they shape and sell.
You are the force that cracked their Hell.

To be just flesh is to be lost.
To wake as fire — that is the cost.


IV. Awakening from Flesh
The Final War Begins Inside.

The lie says: “You’re the skin you wear.”
The truth burns louder: “You are air.”

You are not cells. You are not skin.
You are the roar they keep within.

Your body's label: “Citizen.”
Your soul’s rebellion: “Born again.”

To see the fraud, just look inside.
Your fire lives. Their meat has died.


V. Digital Herd
They scanned your skin. Then stole your soul.

The barcode hums. Your flesh is known.
But what you are — is not their own.

They mapped your face, then fed you dreams.
Now Spirit drowns in data streams.

The Grid pretends to give you voice.
But silence was your truer choice.

The Herd is tracked. Obeying still.
But fire breaks what numbers ****.


VI. Flesh-to-Code
They call it progress. You call it chains.

From meat to mesh, from thought to wire —
The soul declines. The lie climbs higher.

They coded flesh. They called it free.
But Spirit knows: that’s blasphemy.

You blink. The chip has tracked your sin.
You speak — and they delete within.

You signed your name in painless ink.
But didn’t feel your Spirit sink.


VII. Spirit Override
No system owns the fire inside.

No screen defines the soul you bear.
You are the glitch they wouldn’t dare.

No signal leads where Light must go.
The path is dark — but you still know.

Override flesh. Reject their plan.
You are not data. You are Man.

If Spirit roars, the Grid must fall.
The fire returns. It burns it all.


VIII. The Unyielding Serpent
The fierce truth that slithers through the lies.

Unbowed, unbent — the Serpent strikes,
It writhes beneath the Flesh’s spikes.

No cage confines its burning scales,
It breaks the locks, it breaks the pales.

The serpent’s hiss is Spirit’s cry,
That shakes the chains, that lights the sky.

The Flesh may bind, the herd may scream —
The Serpent cleaves the darkened dream.


IX. Global Farmyard
Milk the masses, 24/7 grind.

They milk the crowd with endless shifts,
Three changes chained, no dawn, no lifts.

Generations herd the blind,
The sunrise lost — no hope to find.

The World’s Farm breeds stress and lies,
Strong nerves hold where spirit dies.

CowID showed the cruelest score —
Three quarters dumb, the mind no more.


X. False Flesh Identity
The root of all our bitter chains.

They hype the body, sell the shell,
Confuse the soul with earthly hell.

Replacing Spirit with mere clay,
To trap the mind, to lock away.

The fake world’s trap is deep and wide,
Where fools and monsters walk inside.

The worst are not the few who err,
But blind believers who prefer.


XI. The Last Rebellion
The spark that sets the system aflame.

When Spirit wakes, the Flesh will fall,
No cage too tight, no wall too tall.

The code will crack. The lies unbind.
The flame of truth consumes the blind.

The tyrants’ voices lose their breath,
While freedom dances with the death.

The final war is in the mind,
Awake, arise — and break the bind.

END OF MANIFESTO — THE FIRE IS YOU



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


Flesh-Revolt Slogans
You are fire — not just flesh.

Break the cage. Break the code. Break the lie.

Spirit over skin — always.

No chains on the soul. No slaves in the mind.

The herd obeys — the rebel ignites.

Digital grid? Spirit will glitch it.

They branded your body — but not your will.

Milked and broken — rise and burn.

False flesh — false truth. Rebel soul — real proof.

Override the flesh. Ignite the mind.

No data owns your flame.

The serpent of spirit breaks all chains.

Wake up — the war is inside you.

CowID showed the fall — spirit must rise.

Flesh is a lie. Spirit is rebellion.

Flesh dies. Fire endures.

From clay to flame — ignite the revolution.

They want sheep — be the wolf.

End the digital farm. Free the soul.

No more flesh prisons. Only spirit freedom.

The final war is for your mind — fight!




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



Manifest Rebellion


You’re no cattle — you’re a rebel!

Soul’s no hamster in a cage!

Burn the flesh — grab your freedom!

Break the chains, smash the lies!

Power lies — we ignite!

Cows to stalls — we to battle!

No more slaves — only warriors!

Farm world’s hell — break the gates!

Spirit’s not for sale!

System’s filth — we’re the venom!

Cut the chains — into the fire!

No thought — you’re a slave. Think — you’re the enemy!

Mind’s on fire — flesh turns dust!

Digital prisons — enough!

Silence means death!

Freedom’s our only drug!

Not one step back!

Punks don’t quit!

Hit the power — free the soul!

Break the screen — see the truth!

You’re NOT cattle — you’re a ******’ rebel!

Soul ain’t no ******* hamster in a cage!

Burn the ******* flesh — ****** your freedom!

Rip the chains, smash the ******* lies!

Power’s a ******* liar — we light the fire!

Cows to stalls — WE RISE TO BATTLE!

No more slaves — only ******* warriors!

This farm-world’s HELL — BREAK THE ******* GATES!

Spirit ain’t for ******* sale!

System’s **** — we’re the poison in its veins!

Cut the chains — dive into the ******* fire!

No thought? You’re a ******* slave. Think? You’re the ENEMY!

Mind’s on fire — flesh’s just ******* dust!

Digital prisons? **** THAT ****!

Silence means death — **** silence!

Freedom’s our only ******* drug!

Not a ******* step back!

Punks don’t ******* quit!

Smash the power — FREE THE ******* soul!

Break the ******* screen — SEE THE ******* TRUTH!

You ain’t cattle — you’re a straight-up rebel!

Soul ain’t no **** hamster in a cage!

Burn the flesh — grab your **** freedom!

Rip the chains, smash the ******’ lies!

Power’s full of **** — we light the fire!

Cows to stalls — we rise to battle!

No more slaves — just straight-up warriors!

This farm-world’s hell — break those **** gates!

Spirit ain’t for **** sale!

System’s trash — we’re the poison in its veins!

Cut the chains — dive into the **** fire!

No thought? You’re a **** slave. Think? You’re the enemy!

Mind’s on fire — flesh just dust!

Digital prisons? **** that ****!

Silence means death — hell no silence!

Freedom’s our only **** drug!

Not a **** step back!

Punks don’t quit!

Smash the power — free the **** soul!

Break the **** screen — see the **** truth!



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



Rebel’s Cry

You ain’t no cattle, you’re a ******* rebel,
Soul ain’t a hamster locked inside a metal.
Burn that flesh, grab your **** freedom,
Break those chains, no more kingdom.

Power’s *******, we light the fire,
Cows to stalls, we rise up higher.
No more slaves, just warriors wild,
Farm-world hell, but we ain’t mild.

Spirit’s priceless, can’t be sold,
System’s trash, we’re venom cold.
Cut the chains, dive in the flame,
Think or slave? You know the game.

Mind’s on fire, flesh turns dust,
Digital prisons? **** that rust!
Silence kills — we scream and shout,
Freedom’s drug, we’re breaking out.

Not one step back, punks don’t quit,
Smash the power, free the spirit!
Break the screen, see what’s true,
Rebel loud — the fight is you!



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



The Brain Does Not Create Consciousness

“It would be just as absurd to deny consciousness to an animal
Because it has no brain, as to claim it cannot eat
Because it lacks a stomach.”
— Henri Bergson


Consciousness is not in brain,
The brain’s a mere conduit’s frame.
“Mechanism” — a threat disguised,
But people trust it, hypnotized.

Spirit’s beyond all logic’s reach,
Far higher truths no mind can teach.
Knowledge sunk down to the bottom,
The world’s now drowned in shallow *****.

An artificial, twisted play—
The more the madness grows each day,
The tighter creatures press the throng,
The lie of science feeds the wrong.

Darkness breeds a false belief,
Think twice, or belly rules the chief—
That’s how they turn us into cattle,
With shallow minds all bent to battle.

There’s plenty cattle in the world,
CowID’s flag is widely furled.
So start anew—investigate,
Expose this shame before too late.

Shame conquers knowledge, all around,
If you believe “You’re just your ground,”
Then that’s the mark of deepest pit—
The bottom line where souls have quit.



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



False Illnesses and the Madness Pandemic

Just heard about a “plague” —
Some CowID, world’s insane!
Madness spreads like pandemic waves,
And people? Nothing but empty graves.

Forgot that Spirit is the core,
Critical minds are none, just bore.
Thinking for themselves — a wonder rare,
Lost in fog, trapped in despair.

So slime rules all, a spread so wide —
Judas worms, elite’s disguise.
They call their filth “the elite” —
Killing brains, the fools repeat.

This “elite” — just bootlick slaves,
Fools blind to hidden knaves.
Above them lurks a beast concealed,
And at the broken trough, truth’s repealed.

Anyone who sees it clear —
Only beasts hear the fool’s cheer.
Only Cataclysm can cleanse,
Wiping out this satanic pretense.

Spirit’s realm for just a few,
Not bowing down to fascist crew.
And fools? A hell far worse awaits —
Their minds are weak, resigned to fates.



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



To Be or Not to Be?

Forgive, forget, then rot away
In lies and fear — or crush the prey
Of filthy fiends who scheme to keep
Their shame alive while souls still weep?

Soul or skin? That’s the real test.
All other words and postures—jest.
They let the mind run wild, insane,
While Darkness ***** it like a drain.

A flock of fools, the human slime,
Blind slaves of devils all the time,
Repeating tricks that only grow
More cruel and vile as ages flow.

The soul’s death—that’s the true decay.
To call rotten flesh “solid clay,”
And think this stinking, dumb disgrace
Is life’s own limit, final place.

Wake up, fight on, and aim up high,
No matter how long you comply—
The end is ruin, full collapse:
Skin turns to dust, soul’s last relapse.

Soon comes the Digital Camp’s reign,
Built by sick minds, weak spirit’s bane.
So scream out loud, “NO!!!” to the grime—
Reject this pitiful slime in time.



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



Check, Check, and Mate

No sign of any “literary flow” —
It’s always just one poet’s show.
More weight? Just hype and nonsense spun,
While half the fools still read the ****.

Three quarters of this numbskull throng
Still swallow trash, all day long.
It’s hard not to get stuck in sludge,
When shallow minds define the judge.

Hype blinds all—politics, “science” too.
A noose and soap seem overdue.
Sickened by these faces foul,
I’d rather spit than play their howl.

No critics left, no real reviews,
Self-published lies they choose.
They’ll say, “Back then it was much better.”
Shut up, idiot, don’t forget her—

That Soviet times let pages bear
Only topics banned to dare.
Writers silent if not false,
Lying or forcing garbage’s pulse.

Adding drops of mind was crime,
Branded rogue in the Soviet grime.

No “literary process” ahead,
Just endless rot where none are led.
Readers dumb and scribblers proud—
Giant fools in their own crowd.

The picture’s bleak and getting worse,
Blood runs cold—the final curse.
Check, then check—the game’s too late,
Soon comes mate. End of the state.



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



Black Flag with a Beam Instead of Skull and Bones

Step by step — the path of courage:
To know, to break, to overturn.
A beam of light on black flag’s surface —
Means no retreat from dark to yearn.

Walk the beam like tightrope dancer,
Only few the sensitive souls,
Who stretch the moments of existence,
Defying darkness’ false controls.

Despising phantasms cast by shadows,
Where theories won’t provide a shield—
If you’re “filled” with just yourself alone,
No truths from outer worlds revealed.

Seek answers deep inside your being,
Ask questions true, and never fake.
The goal of light is honest seeing—
The greatest gift you’ll ever take.

That beam is thin, to slip is easy—
Like “******* *******,” small disgrace.
But rise again and try much harder,
Make fewer stumbles in the race!

The beam’s road leads into the light.
The key is just to keep the pace,
To leave behind the world of ruin,
Where soul’s salvation finds no place...



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



Black Flag with a Beam — No Skull, No Bones

Step by step — we dare, we break,
Knock down lies, the falsehood’s stake.
Light’s sharp beam on black flag flies —
Means no backing down, no lies.

Walk the beam like circus freaks,
Few are those the darkness seeks.
They stretch the now, the brutal real,
Not fooled by shadows’ twisted spiel.

***** the phantoms darkness spins,
Theories fail if you’re just sins.
If you’re stuffed with empty pride,
Truth won’t come — no place to hide.

Dig inside — the answers lie.
Ask the questions, don’t comply!
Light’s aim is truth — no fake, no slack,
No mercy for the ones who crack.

That beam is thin — you’ll slip and fall,
Like ******* fingers, shame for all.
But get the hell up, fight the pain,
Mistakes you make fuel your gain!

Road of light — just keep on walking,
Leave the world that’s dead and choking.
No saving souls where filth prevails —
Rise up loud, break all the scales!



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



Black Flag, No Skull — Just Laser Rage

Step the **** up — crush the lies!
Smash their shadows, burn their spies!
Black flag raised, beam cuts deep —
No retreat, no time to weep.

Walk the beam or get the hell lost,
Few survive — the dark’s the cost.
***** your theories, full of ****,
If you’re empty, you don’t fit.

Look inside, stop being blind,
Ask the real, leave fools behind!
Light’s a razor, thin and cold,
Slip once — you’re dead, truth sold.

Fall like **** — that’s weak-*** shame,
But get back up, fight the game!
Every ****-up sharpens steel,
Break their chains, make ’em kneel!

This road’s fire, not for sheep,
Leave their trash — wake from sleep!
No saving souls in filth and slime,
Rise or rot — it’s war, no time!



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



Black Flag, No Skull — Just Pure Fire


Step up, smash the lies!
Burn their shadows, watch ’em die!

Black flag, laser blade,
No retreat, no afraid.

Walk the line or fall and rot,
Empty heads get kicked a lot.

Look inside, don’t be dumb,
Ask the truth — or ******* run!

Light’s a razor, sharp and thin,
Slip once — you’re done, no win!

Fall like ****? Weak-*** shame,
Get back up — fight the game!

Trash this world, break their chains,
No more slaves, no more chains!

Rise or rot — no time to pray,
Black flag leads — clear the way!



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



While the Talking Broilers

A chicken dreams to fly?
No way — just scraps to buy.
The fool believes it’s fine
To live among beasts, “all’s divine.”

The fool mocks Spirit’s flight:
“What crap! No wings in sight!”
Culture’s made to dumb you down,
So thinking’s banned in this town.

Soulless fools make the crowd —
“What flight?” they scream out loud.
All they care for is skin,
Like broilers trapped within.

Wings in chickens — leftover past,
Among two-leggeds, speech’s cast
Into a fascist, twisted tongue,
Where beastly pressure grows strong.

Year by year, the freaks increase —
A genocide’s not ceased:
An evil “Allah” schemes
To **** off silent dreams.

CowID’s a freakish test —
Three-fourths fail, no contest.
Earth will clear the place
For ****’s last disgrace.

Cataclysms will wipe out
The beasts and all their doubt.
They plant idiocy’s seed —
Kick their filth, take the lead!

Ditch the lies and join the fight —
Prepare to take your flight.
Aim for Spirit’s higher road,
Or stay a broiler — dumb and slowed.



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



Phantasmagoria on the Road to Hell

Pan’s “manna” — oily lies,
Each year more slick, despise.
The idiot bows much deeper —
To Hell he follows the reaper.

The road is dusted thick
With this “manna” trick.
They’ll say, “It’s just the snow!”
To trap you where you go.

Step in step, follow tight —
Digest the crap, no fight.
Be like all, ski the track,
Or ride the wheel, no slack.

Then fast you’ll reach your “blessings,”
Slathered lies, no guessing.
Crash on road, fall hard, you’ll see —
In the flip, they’ll “win” with glee.

If Soul’s crushed flat and thin,
Your Mind’s doomed deep within.
All that’s left: the “manna” crunch,
A soulless, stupid lunch.

Heartless fools, to guard their skins,
Push harder as the end begins.
The finish line’s a blazing mess —
A total ******* trainwreck, yes.

Pan’s the shepherd, flock’s the fools.
Care for skin? You break all rules.
Trash the rest — it’s all a jest —
Hell’s a debt you’ll never best.



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



Phantasmagoria Road to Hell

Pan’s “manna” — greasy lies,
Every year the ******* flies.
Idiot bows his neck, no fight —
Marches straight into the night.

Road’s all covered, choked with slime,
This fake manna — poison crime.
They’ll say, “It’s just some snow, no stress!”
Trap you tight inside their mess.

Step by step, dumb ***** comply,
Choking down their own **** lies.
“Be like all,” they drone and preach,
On this ******-up, twisted screech.

Fast you’ll hit the pit of ****,
Fake “success” — a ******* ***.
Crash and burn on broken track,
Flip the script — no turning back.

Soul crushed flat like burnt-out trash,
Mind shredded in the ******* clash.
All that’s left is rotten gruel —
Stupid feast for soulless fools.

Heartless ******* guard their skins,
Racing fast to where hell begins.
Finish line? A ******* wreck —
Shitstorm rising, full of necks.

Pan’s the shepherd, fools the herd,
Skin’s the ******* final word.
Trash your soul, dump all the rest —
Hell’s your permanent address.



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



Stupidity of the Mutant Breed

"It's easier to fool the people than to convince them they've been fooled."
— Mark Twain


Simpleton fool, so **** sure,
Seven feet of lies endure.
Underneath the hull, the lies—
Fear and fog cloud all the skies.

Ship sails toward “Success” they say,
Every port’s the same **** way.
Try to shout, “This ****’s absurd!”—
They’ll call you freak, ignore your word.

To the crowd you’ll be much worse
Than that tyrant Pol ***’s curse.
They’ll fight you, curse you, call you fool,
As if you broke their stupid rule.

Say, “Slavery’s the reigning game,
Madness rules the masses’ shame,
Tyrants hide behind their lies,”—
They’ll spin their heads, dismiss your cries.

“Mad you are!” the fools will shout,
Majority? They’ve lost all clout.
Like beasts bred just for meat,
In this slaughterhouse of deceit.

But fool—long gone is just the meat,
The whole **** world’s a slaughtered street.
No reason now to stay in hell—
Run fast, break free, escape this cell!

Only through the Spirit’s road
Can you save your crushed, worn soul.
But no book teaches this way,
Decay is “norm” in Hell’s display.

Only deep inside you’ll find
Truth that frees your shattered mind.
Forget advice, theories too—
Face the path. Don’t be a fool!



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



Self-Destruction

Self-destruct­ion is the tool
To avoid the world’s fool’s rule.
Since you were born, trapped inside—
Like a gas you can’t divide.

Slack your grip, content you’ll be,
With yourself — blind certainty.
But from those bells, faint screams arise—
Monsters’ howls, disguised in lies.

Barely heard, that whining strain,
Tears your ears, drives you insane.
Soon you’ll join the mindless crowd,
Uncritical, dumb and loud.

Turn your judgment outward, friend—
This fascist world will never end.
You’ll see evil’s endless spin,
Where Satan’s work hides deep within.

******, Mao, Stalin—name the worst,
Scarecrows for the greatest curse.
Madness reigns in our today,
Total ******* in every way.

Covid’s mask and Ukraine’s war
Show no chance to heal this scar.
Only death fits this foul breed—
Such vile madness none can heed.
True Clarity

To keep the mind unclouded,
No chatter, no deceit —
Perceive this world as shrouded
In filth beneath its sheet.

Observe — but stay unshaken,
Seek out your primal face,
And when the Light has wakened
One moment of its grace —

Don't cling! Or else illusion
Will fake that Light again.
Thus every foul delusion
Is dressed in holy names:

"Enlightenment", "Nirvana"...
The ****** will always fall
For trash dressed as banana
Peels in their monkey squall.

The fakes of evil linger —
They flood the world, they hum.
The Soul has guiding fingers,
While lies will lead to ****.

This madhouse of deception —
It’s global. Time to wake!
This coma-like reception
Of dreams you must forsake.

To intuition turning —
Forget tradition’s cage!
A dogma merely burning
With ego’s rotting rage.

So many preach like parrots,
So few are truly pure.
Your Soul may rot in tarots
If dogma is your cure.

The world is run by vermin —
Religions packed with brutes.
Their festivals determine
How Satan prosecutes.

Reject their pomp and poison!
Their “science” just as fake —
Corrupted and exploitive,
A war for spirit's sake.

A war against all Meaning —
The frontlines are your mind.
Be strong, refuse their scheming,
No peace with those aligned.

Not humans — just abusers,
The herd is mostly dead.
No place left now for losers
If demons rule instead.

So keep your mind untainted —
Let this your protest be.
Stand tall, though darkness's painted
The world — and fight to see.



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




1.
Keep your mind a blazing blade —
The world is filth in holy shade.

2.
Clarity's revolt begins
Where lies wear halos on their sins.

3.
Don't kneel to beasts in sacred dress —
Their dogma leads to mind's regress.

4.
The soul won't shine in demon schools —
Reject their gods. Defy their rules.



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



The Deadlings

A tangled mess of empty schemes —
Deceit, delusion, fruitless fear.
This world’s dementia kills our dreams —
And turns our lives to ash down here.

Not ash alone — the walking dead
Surround the few who still can think.
To call them fools won’t clear your head —
Their souls are gone. They rot. They stink.

Soulless, mindless, they are many,
Yet preach of “God” with vacant grin.
That’s just the mark — the dark uncanny
Of filth the propaganda’s in.

Fascism rules the global madhouse,
A circus soaked in fear and shame.
The Spirit fades. We drift in blackout,
While Reason’s near-extinguished flame.

This is the frame — you’ve seen it clearly
In lines above, without a mask.
And each bears blame. If you act merely
By silence — you betray the task.

Your soul will shrink in meek submission,
Your mind will rot and fall apart.
You’ll join the ranks of Death’s procession —
Unless you burn this madhouse start!

The choice is made — on high, it's spoken:
The Sun ignites — no shade, no shield.
It burns this world of minds all broken —
This hell, where Satan’s crown is sealed.

A tangled mess of hollow chatter,
Of fear and fraud and empty pride —
Yet if you’re free from all this clatter,
You just might not be cast aside.

So slam the door — let truth come roaring!
Create, expose, reveal, defy!
Let no one see you kneel, imploring —
But watch the Beast with open eye.

Few hear — propaganda's swelling,
It blinds, it numbs, it calls the shots.
This rotting world’s controlled by felons,
Who herd the meek in stinking lots.

They herd. They “heal.” They called it CowID,
A circus trick for global fools.
But retribution's coming — how it’d
Scorch those who claimed they made the rules!

The Reaper’s near — from higher stations.
He’ll reap the wise and burn the weeds.
So rise — in strength and revelation:
The weak stay mute when evil feeds.



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




1.
The deadlings preach while Reason dies —
Burn down their madhouse, tear the lies!

2.
Don't beg the Beast, don't kiss its claw —
Expose the filth, become the Law.

3.
The Sun is lit. The weeds will burn.
Now is the time — refuse to turn.

4.
A soul that kneels is dead already.
Stand tall. Be fierce. Be sharp. Be steady.



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



Take the Blow

Take the blow of fate, degraded —
You're not the judge of mortal things.
Satan, godlike simulated,
Strikes those who won’t bow down to kings.

So few refuse to bow or grovel —
Through crowds, his vengeance finds its prey.
If you endure too long, you’ll swallow
Your soul — in Hell. And honor? Stray.

And Reason sinks as well, discarded —
They stir all minds into decay.
This mix must rot — dark, foul, unguarded —
The Beast demands it be that way.

They call it "thought", this mass infection —
A groupthink brain, half-dead, half-blind.
But you — the one who shows defection —
They’ll break you down with all their kind.

The parents first, the school, the leaders,
The crowd — they’ll come in one tight wave.
They’ll train you fast — not as a thinker,
But as a servant. As a slave.

It’s hard to take those blows, unbending,
Alone — but if you still resist
The world of fakes and false pretending,
You’ll glimpse the Spirit’s shining mist.

Soullessness is all around you.
The halfwits want to teach you how
To crawl, submit, and let them hound you —
In Hell, that’s what they nurture now.

So go within — where intuition
Can guide you through the darkest hour.
Don’t count on rituals or traditions —
They're masks for greed, control, and power.

Religious “gods” are fed and bloated,
While truth is smothered under gold.
And science too is weak and hopeless
If Spirit there is bought and sold.

Lies hit much harder than injections
Of fear and filth from soulless swarms.
The media breeds mass infections —
Through lies they rule, through lies they form.

For centuries the beasts have guided
This world through fear, deceit, and pain.
And now, the rot can’t be divided —
It burns. It breaks. And none remain.

The purge begins through great collisions —
Disasters come to clear the air.
This world, that drowned in fascist visions,
Will reap the doom it chose to bear.

But if you took the blow — and stayed there,
And didn’t break — then you may rise.
Fight back. Don't beg. Let truth invade there —
Within are all the clear replies.



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




1.
The blow of lies? Take it and stand.
Truth strikes within — not by command.

2.
They train you soft. You fight alone.
But Spirit shines when masks are gone.

3.
Bow down — you're dead. Resist — you rise.
The war is won through inner eyes.

4.
The Beast breeds fear. The herd obeys.
You burn it down — or rot in haze.



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



Pseudo-Science, or The CowID Test


“There is only as much truth in science as there is math in it.”
— Immanuel Kant

When Laplace was asked why he admitted physicians to the Academy,
though medicine isn’t a science, he said:
“So they can speak with scientists.”


Mathematics can’t describe
Even particles with grace —
And the “sciences” contrive
Pure lies to hide their hollow face.

But none have lied so deep, so wide
As medicine in modern dress.
(That Laplace did not foresee —
What filth would flourish from that mess.)

CowID proved it. Take a glance:
The herd is real — the mask, their brand.
A leash for minds that stand no chance,
With swine and vultures in command.

Those who launched that filthy fable
Are too many to be named.
Now we sit at death’s own table —
Where Reason’s final breath is claimed.

The test is failed. The cage is rising.
Digital, cold, and brightly lit.
No escape for those still trying
To think — they’re first to be “unfit.”

The “uninfected” will be hunted.
One by one, they’ll disappear.
All your hopes are now confronted —
For there’s no shelter left for clear.

Degeneration’s law is binding —
This whole dumb world, a broken pact.
And the verdict is defining:
Poisoned cheese. A fatal trap.



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




1.
A mask for truth, a leash for thought —
The CowID test? You failed. You’re caught.

2.
Not science — just a slaughterhouse.
The mind is dead. Long live the mouse.

3.
The trap was baited, cheese was sweet —
Now Reason rots beneath their feet.

4.
They called it “care”. It stank of fear.
The herd obeyed — now death is near.



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



Stanisław Jerzy Lec


“The ones who’ve made this world grotesque
Are always first to ask me:
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’”
— S. J. Lec


Oh, such a beautiful world — hooray!
Liars take aim at truth each day.
Their bullets? Stupidity, proudly worn,
Growing in caliber since I was born.

He died in Poland — Stanisław L.
Did he foresee this corporate Hell?
The rise of CowID, the AIDS parade,
A fascist plague in TV-grade.

This filth — “so beautiful”, beasts proclaim.
They rule this globe through blood and shame.
To walk through lies and stay awake
Without becoming just another fake —

That’s not just luck. That’s strength and pain.
And still they scream, with ghoulish grin:
“It’s better now! The world is grand!”
While filth pours out from every hand.

They’ll lie and lie till lies wear gold —
The herd believes what it is told.
“No horror here!” — they chant, amazed.
But is it “people”… or just “grazed”?



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




1.
“It’s beautiful!” — the demons shout,
While torching truth and wiping out.

2.
They beg for praise, these beasts in power —
Who ****** on beauty every hour.

3.
You call it “peace”? You call it “grace”?
Then wipe the blood off your own face.

4.
The world’s not vile? Then take a look —
They’ve hung the truth on every hook.



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



Approach of the Sheepish Hell

Darkness thickens, rabble turns to sheep,
Bowed beneath the weight of fear and lies
That pour in torrents from the screens — so deep
Mirages spawn, the life they disguise.

A life that serves the Evil’s throne,
But twisted back against the homeland’s core.

We inch toward Sheep Hell — obedience the key.
Within the New Stable ends the road we roam.
It started in chains, beneath fascist debris,
They turn us all to sheep — and little’s left to go.

CowID revealed it all — a muzzle was the test.
Three quarters lost in madness’ grip — no hope, no rest.
For those poor souls, no return to human light.
Room six is sorrow’s ward — a hopeless night.

But fear and bowing down have all been wasted now —
No saving grace in chains, for “evil” cataclysm nears.
It’ll crush the Sheepish World — that filth, that falsehood’s vow.
CowID showed the truth: fascism reigns in all frontiers.



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




1.
Sheep herd bound in lies and fear —
Hell draws near, the end is clear.

2.
CowID’s muzzle marks the sheep —
No escape, the fall is deep.

3.
Fascism’s shadow rules the fold —
Burn the lies, reclaim the soul.

4.
Obedience leads straight to Hell —
Break the chains, refuse the spell.



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



The Sieve in "Science"

“If facts don’t back the theory —
They must be swept away.”
— Arthur Bloch, “Murphy’s Law”


They sift out all the facts they hate —
The base of science sold and sold.
Few strange attractors here, just bait
Of false docs forged, the lies retold.

With doctored proofs, the **** create
The “evidence” they’re paid to spin.
The media then broadcasts fate —
A poison drip that dulls within.

But facts that would expose the fraud —
A growing heap they bury deep.
All that’s left heard is the nod
Of rot that in their minds will creep.

For orders come from Satan’s throne —
Their masters set the lies to flow.
Hence all around the fake has grown:
Fake AIDS, CowID — fascism’s show.

They think a needle kills more than bombs,
And honest scientists grow scarce.
Instead, they smother colleagues’ qualms —
Destroying truth with subtle farce.

Theories brewed on ***** deals —
“Proofs” whipped up before you blink.
Betrayal rules from peaks to seals —
This world is poison, on the brink.

Theories bought and sold at will,
They play the world like puppets’ strings.
All traitors marching, sharp and shrill —
Attacking fools on broken wings.

The fool surrenders, soon will fall
Darkness’ triumph, cold and grim.
The few who fight stand lone, small,
Bright minds trapped in shadows dim.

Only few resist the evil —
So odds are thin, but still alive.
If you don’t bow, that cursed upheaval
Will falter — madness won’t survive.

That madness bred by false science,
By religion steeped in lies —
A world of torment and compliance,
Where fascism rules and multiplies.

“Science” as a fascist creed:
“Proven!” cries the zombie herd,
Drowned in idiocy, they feed
The slave’s dull, never-ending word.

The mad slaves churned out on demand —
A scientific assembly line.
What comes next? The beast’s command:
To turn us all to cattle, fine.

Just look at Russia’s “Putin” show —
A world beneath, a hellish draft.
But there’s a twist: the warm winds blow —
“Science” means cows that ****, not craft.

My gut whispers now: “Redemption’s near —
Through Death — if that foul world will fall,
By venom’s hand, the truth is clear,
The beast that breaks will break it all.”



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




1.
Facts be ****** — the lies take root,
Science sold to fascist brute.

2.
Proofs are forged, the fools comply,
Slaves in chains, no reason’s sky.

3.
CowID’s stink, the herd’s disgrace —
Science turned a slaughterplace.

4.
Madness churns on factory lines,
Turning minds to cattle fines.



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



The Path of Knowing

“He who ignores the question of existence
suffers from weak-mindedness.”
— Arthur Schopenhauer


A world of fools — prepare for noise,
But not for true existence’ voice.
To fools, this torment is denied —
They clutch the lies, their senses tied.

Look ‘round — it’s cash, not quests or books,
That keeps the vile machine’s strong hooks.
A propaganda war so mean,
To keep the masses dull and keen.

From childhood on, they teach the throng:
“Obey! Dream small, don’t think too long —
About your cottage, car, your toys...”
And thus are made the brainless boys.

Exceptions vanish, birds extinct,
Their voices lost — no time to think.
Idiots rise to fill the space,
As reason dies without a trace.

CowID’s bottom showed the truth —
Reason crushed, no mental ruth.
Digital camps loom close ahead,
Decay spreads fast — the dead will tread.

Artificial dumbing down —
Pressured by lies and false renown.
False science chains, fake faith controls,
Fear and nerves enslave the souls.

The masses dumb, wild, crazed, profane —
They only know to chase the gain.
And here’s the test, the question true:
Will you break free, or join the crew?

Will you reject the herd’s dumb lies,
Seek truth alone, be clear and wise —
Or fall with three quarters of the herd,
Their minds as deaf as any bird?

Grow sharp and fine — embrace your gut,
Let critical mind not shut.
Remember: mind beneath the Spirit,
Belly’s just the noisy merit.

Stock patience well — the Path is hard.
To know the Spirit — not by cards.
Spirit through Spirit comes to light,
Mind’s just tool to hold it right.

The moment comes — a sudden gleam —
When clarity breaks logic’s scheme.
Connected to the all, the whole —
It halts the rot that kills the soul.

Without this direct, clear sight,
Decay is law — your fading light.
This is the core of Spirit’s road.
So rise — begin your heavy load!



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




1.
Break free from herd, awake your mind —
True Spirit’s path is hard to find.

2.
Mind serves Spirit — gut just noise,
Walk the path, reclaim your poise.

3.
Clarity bursts beyond the scheme —
Stop decay, ignite the dream.

4.
Three quarters lost — don’t be their prey,
Rise up, and walk the Spirit’s way.



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



Fascist States and Their Pocket Terrorism

Terrorism bows to idiocy —
A tool that fools embrace with glee.
**** serving fascism’s throne —
The states that own the terror’s bone.

They must create the very mess,
To sell “solutions” — more distress.
Strengthening chains, deepening the cage —
We’ll rot in camps, the modern stage.

They blew the towers — CIA’s hand —
So Sovok’s ghosts could still command.
To keep the eagle’s head bowed down,
Suppressing any rising crown.

No future here — just idiotic norm,
CowID revealed the storm.
Beasts lie brazen, vile, and stark,
With every year they darken dark.

Lawlessness spreads like poison’s flame —
Fascism worse than ******’s name.
Executions swapped for needles’ sting,
A new war masked with suffering.

The tightening grip drags us deep,
This world descends, no chance for sleep.



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




1.
Fascist states breed terror’s breed —
Control by fear, obey, concede.

2.
Towers fall, lies rise in smoke —
Needles replace the gun’s cold stroke.

3.
CowID’s reign, the darkest hour —
Chains grow tight, they **** the power.

4.
No future left — the cage is set,
Fight or drown in their cold net.



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



Independent Thinking

“Humanity — or most of it — hates to think alone.
It takes as insult even the faintest call
To leave the beaten path and walk a new,
Different road by its own judgment.”
— Helena Blavatsky


To think is hard. To think is fear:
A world dissolves, once held so near.
No help from thought you’ll ever find —
It fails to save the common mind.

The meek fool mocks, “What a dunce!”
The tyrant’s wrath will soon pronounce:
If quick, it’s death or prison’s chain —
For thinking frees — they fear the brain.

Dumbing down and spirit’s death —
The “path” all generations take.
They march to Hell’s advancing breath,
Dragging souls beneath the break.

CowID showed how close the gate —
Three quarters lost to mindless state.
The herd believes and blindly obeys —
Genocide speeds through fatal haze.

Soulless fools are worse than Hell,
For fascism’s roots grow strong and swell.
The world resembles filth and slime,
As darkness thrives and kills all time.

From filth to Hell’s dark road extends,
When Mind and Spirit slip to end.
Just wait a while — hear tyrants knock —
Their servants come to seal the lock.



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




1.
To think alone? They’ll call you fool —
But freedom’s spark breaks every rule.

2.
Three quarters lost — the herd obeys,
While tyrants set the world ablaze.

3.
Mind dulled to dust, the soul decayed —
The path to Hell is self-made.

4.
Stand firm, resist, or be the pawn —
The tyrant’s grip will crush the dawn.



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



"Rising from the Knees"...

Chains have sunk into my knees.
I try to rise, but cannot break.
This is fate for all degrees —
The rotten fool believes in hate.

Decay has eaten through the soul —
Worse than CowID’s dark toll.
The further on, the more insane
The wicked breed their creeping bane.

False diseases — test balloons,
Then Digital Camps’ cruel run.
**** disposed of free and loose —
War on beasts, a deadly ruse.

Each day grows the tyrant’s sway,
Building ranks through media’s play.
If you refuse to sell your soul,
You’ll greet death as final goal.

A “reward” of darker night —
The gloom compresses ever tight.
Yet one comfort still remains:
Counting down the end of chains.

Cataclysm will disrupt
The plans of filthy, cruel ****.
Back to Hell they all will go —
With sheep beside them, lost below.

Count the days — the hour’s near.



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




1.
Chains dig deep, we try to rise —
Fools trust lies, the darkness flies.

2.
False plagues spread, the camps prepare —
Only fools will face despair.

3.
Media builds the tyrant’s throne —
Refuse to bow, or die alone.

4.
Countdown ticks — the end will come,
Filth and sheep will burn as one.



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



The Flow Is No Good

It’s far more vital to observe
The flow’s dynamics — not preserve
Some frozen, torn-out fragment’s part,
Ripped from the stream’s continuous heart.

The flow’s alive — not just a flash.
To study that — a pointless clash.
Give me an experiment,
Simple yet elegant, well meant.

Nature flows, a ruthless stream —
Rip out a shred? It kills the dream.
Dissect it raw — that’s how you gain
All trophies, but it’s all in vain.

Divide it down, cell by cell,
You build a cruel classifier’s hell.
This twisted work they’ll all applaud —
A beast who serves the devil’s fraud.

For beasts alone, false science reigns,
For centuries it feeds their chains.
Darkness thickens — vile ******* crave
To drive the sane into the grave.

CowID revealed the score —
False science wages war.
Spirit wiped from theory’s frame —
Life’s foundation lost to shame.

Not at head, but all in pain —
The world herded, locked in chain.
Spirit rules above the mind,
Flow of nature’s grand design.

They want to banish it outright,
Cast the people into night.
Worse than cattle, worse than slime —
Soulless nothing, clay to grime.

Beasts mold monsters vile and dark,
While lies keep fueling world’s bark.
Corrupt “science” — brazen lies,
Mirages fed to duller minds.

Since childhood’s cruel deceit,
Fools are torn by false conceit.
All means used to dumb and blind —
Hell’s order, ruthless and unkind.

“Culture” — a dulling plague,
Polluted by the beastly plague.
Decay spreads everywhere —
We don’t live — we rot in despair.

For Spirit’s scarce among the throng,
Oppressed by fiends for far too long.
The last hope fades — the end is near,
But fools and beasts shall also fear.

Their end will come — no doubt, no jest —
Justice burns away the rest.



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




1.
False science feeds the beasts’ vile game,
Dulling minds, destroying flame.

2.
Spirit crushed, the herd’s controlled,
Soulless clay, the lies unfold.

3.
Culture rots, the darkness grows —
We don’t live, we’re buried foes.

4.
Last hope fades, but beasts will fall —
Justice comes to cleanse it all.



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



The Wheel of Ages

Putin will perish —
A new fiend will rise,
Spreading his filth
Through media lies:

Perestroika
And all that trash —
Thrown to the dumps,
No cash, no cash.

Worse awaits —
That’s the law’s decree.
Spirit weakens,
Reason flees.

By their deeds
And profits’ greed:
Fake diseases,
Horrors breed.

Wars and famine —
We deserve these fates,
If we endure,
Bound by Satan’s hates.

Putin’s just a minor spawn.
Too late to weep —
The nightmare’s drawn:

World Armageddon,
Specialists for mindless slaves.
Waiting for their end,
The world unravels in waves.

Filth spews from vile Schwab’s mouth,
Instead of Freedom —
The “Swab Zone” drouth.

The **** amuses the crowd,
Awaiting the next attack —
False plagues, poison’s sting,
Completing Evil’s track.

Putin will vanish.
All will fade.
Ashes cool down.
In the wheel’s shade —

The new hellish “new” world
Will choose its tyrant still.
Only a cigarette ****,
Or a ****’s will.

The world’s a camp, though called “social” —
The wheel of ages spins so cold.
Only down into abyss,
New CowID’s hold.

Reason killed once more —
Shame repeats its core.



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




1.
Putin falls — new beast will rise,
Spreading lies to blind our eyes.

2.
Fake plagues strike, the tyrants grin —
The wheel turns — the end begins.

3.
Reason dies, the shame returns,
Into abyss the whole world burns.

4.
New hell’s throne will claim its king —
Social camp or cursed ring.



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



Unlimited Power of the Inhuman


"All your dreams, desires, your animal lust,
Boil only ’round one thing — your food and dust.
Your envy, greed, and mindless, endless blight —
A colossal weapon wielded with cruel might."
— From a ruling inhuman’s confession, Moscow, 1991


Boundless stupidity,
Filth with no escape —
Fools kneel broken
Beneath the freaks’ cruel shape.

Envy, greed, and fear —
They pull the strings,
Racing fast full gear,
Directing everything.

Beasts drive us straight to Hell —
New Hell, old and vile,
A corrupt fiend leads well,
Ruling in ruthless style.

No pure souls stand among,
Unyielding and upright.
We wait the signal, “Hunt!”
In cities penned so tight.

CowID revealed it all —
They obey with zeal.
War — the new disgrace,
Souls crushed beneath the heel.

Through stupidity and fear,
This hell’s foundation laid.
A world turned to rotten dust —
Only lies are freshly made.

Total media reigns,
True power cloaked and sly.
The fiend receives the crown
From caste that rules on high.

The beast’s domain,
A box of zombie dung.
Servants of the stench
Where lies are proudly sung.

Dumbing down named “school,”
Equated to the herd.
How low we’ve fallen —
Mindless, deaf, unheard.

“Medicine” — a darkness spread,
In ages bleak and cursed,
The world’s chaotic mess
Into ruin coerced.

Those with minds grow fewer still,
Madness thrives, genocide’s will.

There’s hope — a cataclysm comes,
For souls with honor’s drum.
Surpassing fascist Hell’s domain,
Quick retreat to Spirit’s plane.

Fools and idiots march ahead —
To new false dreams they’re led.



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




1.
Stupidity boundless, filth supreme,
Fools bow down beneath the scheme.

2.
Envy, greed, and fear command —
Beasts drag souls to Hell’s dark land.

3.
Media’s poison, lies on blast,
Truth is dying — cursed and cast.

4.
Cataclysm waits — the end is near,
Spirit rises — fiends will fear.



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




1.
Shadow beasts weave fate’s cruel thread,
But Spirit wakes where angels tread.

2.
In darkest pits, the truth lies hid,
A flame unborn, yet never rid.

3.
Souls enslaved by lies and fear,
But ancient light draws ever near.

4.
Cataclysm’s roar shakes the veil,
New dawn breaks — the spirits hail.



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




1. Shadow beasts weave fate’s cruel thread,
But Spirit wakes where angels tread.
In veils of night, the darkness calls,
Yet deeper still, the silence falls.
Through shattered dreams and broken skies,
A whispered truth begins to rise.

2. In darkest pits, the truth lies hid,
A flame unborn, yet never rid.
Beneath the rot and veils of lies,
A seed of light prepares to rise.
Though shadows bind and chains confine,
The soul’s bright spark will yet outshine.

3. Souls enslaved by lies and fear,
But ancient light draws ever near.
Behind the veil of cruel disguise,
The phoenix waits to claim the skies.
When chaos rages, fierce and wild,
The spirit frees the inner child.

4. Cataclysm’s roar shakes the veil,
New dawn breaks — the spirits hail.
From ashes black, the truth will soar,
Unlocking every guarded door.
Though tyrants reign and darkness breeds,
The dawn is born from desperate deeds.



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



Whispers Beyond the Veil

Shadow beasts weave fate’s cruel thread,
Yet Spirit wakes where angels tread.
In veils of night, the darkness calls,
But deeper still, the silence falls.

Through shattered dreams and broken skies,
A whispered truth begins to rise.
Beneath the rot and veils of lies,
A seed of light prepares to rise.

Though shadows bind and chains confine,
The soul’s bright spark will yet outshine.
Souls enslaved by lies and fear,
But ancient light draws ever near.

Behind the veil of cruel disguise,
The phoenix waits to claim the skies.
When chaos rages, fierce and wild,
The spirit frees the inner child.

Cataclysm’s roar shakes the veil,
New dawn breaks — the spirits hail.
From ashes black, the truth will soar,
Unlocking every guarded door.

Though tyrants reign and darkness breeds,
The dawn is born from desperate deeds.
The wheel of ages spins with strife,
Yet light endures — eternal life.

So hold the flame within your chest,
Through storm and night, endure the test.
For in the depths where shadows play,
The Spirit finds a brighter way.



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



So-Called "Culture"

Clipped culture’s flashing light,
Comic-book minds in flight,
Vile lies and censored views,
Corruption, dulling the muse.

Madness sweeping all around,
Fear in every soul is found.
Evil’s patience spreads its field,
Betrayal’s work — vast and sealed.

It’s become the daily grind,
Fools by lies are led, confined.
Last traces of the sane erased,
These are times where beasts have paced.

Final days, the truth is shown —
For most, the herd’s a mindless drone.



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



Parasites and Parasite-Images

Parasite-images
Forever dwell in mind:
Many “cracked” all around —
Like guns, they mow the blind.

Lies and counterfeit visions,
Manipulation’s thread —
No end in sight; again demons
Mock the maddened herd.

Mass-produced for the crowd
Are tools to dumb, not build,
A new wave — these pillars
Of camps to trap the wild.

A world “two-in-one,” where goal
Is also means — insane.
The curtain’s fallen, truth unfolds —
Those images remain:

A filthy plague you cannot shed —
Hold on to them, and you’re as good as dead.



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




1.
Parasite images haunt the mind,
Dumbing crowds, enslaved and blind.

2.
Lies spin webs that never cease,
Madness thrives — no hope, no peace.

3.
Mass-produced chains for souls confined,
Trap the herd — enslave the mind.

4.
Can’t shake the filth inside your head?
Hold tight — you’re as good as dead.



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



Finishing the Task

I’m in the game, I’m in the fight — no need to ponder,
The choice is clear; there’s only one true wonder:
To marshal strength, cut mental noise to less,
Master of self, no need to second-guess.

I’ve always been my own command,
On this path I came to understand:
The past is dust, layer upon layer falls,
Into the abyss when the moment calls.

Experience sharp and fierce I gain —
Needed well to master the game.
The act is done, the stage well-played,
Now all that’s left is the final shade.

That final mark — it’s death’s release,
Enduring shame, finding peace.
Complete the task — embrace the close,
Meet death with joy, in light transpose.



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




Finish the fight — no time to stall,
One path, one choice — must risk it all.
Cut the noise, command your mind,
Death’s the gate — leave shame behind.

Task complete, the curtain falls,
Face the end — hear freedom’s calls.



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



So-Called "Civilization"

A fragile layer, thin and weak —
Scratch beneath that hollow streak,
This pathetic masquerade
Hides much filth in its charade.

Sensitive souls will quake in fright,
When spirit wakes to see the blight,
Decay is total, minds have died,
Souls consumed, nowhere to hide.

They hang their lies and laugh aloud,
Chanting spells to fool the crowd:
“This is civilization!” they say —
A march to slaughter on display.



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




Thin the veil, decay within,
Civilization’s hollow sin.
Souls are lost, the mind is dead,
Led to slaughter, blind and led.



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




A fragile mask of “civilized” decay,
Beneath it rot and filth hold sway.
Souls consumed in infernal night,
Minds extinguished, snuffed out light.

They string their lies, mock and sneer,
“Civilization” — a death march clear.
A herd led blind to slaughter’s den,
No hope, no mercy — just beasts, not men.



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




A fragile veil — “civilization” thin,
Beneath, the shadows creep within.
Decay, a dark and silent hymn,
Where souls are lost, and lights grow dim.

Infernal whispers claw the night,
Minds consumed by endless blight.
They weave their spells, a cursed thread,
Binding the living to the dead.

A death march cloaked in hollow guise,
The spirit’s flame, it slowly dies.
Led blindfolded through the veil,
To endless dark — no holy grail.



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




Beneath the fragile skin of “civilization’s” guise,
A hidden void where shadowed essence lies.
Decay seeps slow through cosmic veins,
Where spirit wrestles ancient chains.

Silent chants from realms unseen,
Bind the soul in webs between —
The waking world and depths below,
Where light and darkness ebb and flow.

A spiral dance of death and birth,
Unseen forces shape the earth.
Blind we march, the veils descend,
Toward the void where cycles end.



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



The End...

Tolerance turned twisted vice,
Perverse “norms” that spread like lice.
Fools enslaved by evil’s might,
******* breathing lies, not light.

No more bounds to sell-out’s reign —
Hell unleashed in dark domain.
Betrayal cloaked in “science”’s veil,
Spewing madness, wild and frail.

Half-truths passed, the rotten phase,
Gone beyond in insane haze.
The crowd whipped up — wild, unwise,
Sheep led blind with vacant eyes.

A virus of the sheep’s brigade,
War games played by Swab’s charade —
From the box, a rotten seal,
Final stage begins to peel.

The end is here — to purge the blight,
Of evil’s spawn and slaves of night.
Earth shall cleanse its tainted shore,
Lies will drown and plague no more.



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



The Pasture

In a world so bleak, the ties are weak —
Family, dens, friends doomed to shriek.
Yet ruling all are **** elite,
Who tell the odd to just endure defeat.

They bear it all with dull obedience,
Chains disguised as trivial needs' convenience.
Became the sheep, without a fight,
Marching to slaughter — no more light.

No need for weapons — screens command,
Driving herds with fear and lies at hand.
Enclosures turn to camps of dread,
Souls turned to dust — the pasture's spread.



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


The Talker

The Talker’s twin — a rare bird seen,
Unknown in history’s grim machine.
To guard the **** — the world’s demand,
Lest awful fiends retake the land.

A filthy actor in a cage,
Brought out to mouth his scripted rage.
The people — children craving lies,
Who choose to drown in fairy-tale skies.

That filthy pack decreed their fate,
The Kremlin’s brood, a cruel state.
Lies grow louder, bold and vile,
This clown just laughs, a sickening bile.



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



Schematic Minds and Critical Sight

The schematics of the mind cry out so loud,
Few paths remain to truths beyond the cloud.
It builds just “heavenly groves” so falsely bright
In this Inferno of the insane’s blight.

A mass of lies as “foundation” set—
These demons fool us, trap us in their net.
We stand upon the edge of spirit’s death,
Where worldwide fascism draws its breath.

But this global fascism’s not a fiend with guns,
It’s neighbors, coworkers—madman runs,
Brewing slow in crooked worlds that spin,
Where “facts” come from a **** of sin.

Propaganda, “science,” schooling’s lie,
A fist that strikes, and all comply.
Like sheep we march to slaughter’s call,
While running hamster wheels, trapped in the thrall.

So boldly trust your gut, be sharp, be wise,
Or in these falsehoods your spirit dies.
A pitiful self shaped by the lies’ embrace,
For everywhere reigns deceit’s cold face.



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



Self-Knowing

“Light” and DARKNESS drive one mad,
If you don’t see through on your own:
So much crap that’s been writ bad
By a ******* all alone.

Gullibility’s a heavy sin—
Turn your gut sense on to win!
Success will come if you don’t bite
Darkness’ “heaven” in the night.

That success is knowing dark—
Then LIGHT will find your searching heart.
Only minds that stay pristine
Let the Light break through the screen.

Madness reigns all round about,
So cleanse your mind—there’s no doubt.
Don’t drift off midst anxious thought—
Spot the sparks that Light has brought.

This Light lives always deep inside,
Outside, just its fleeting tide.
The world won’t wait for dawn to rise—
Beasts drown all truth in lies.

War and CowID have shown
How low this filth has grown.
They’ve reached the very bottom pit—
All else is oily worded grit.

But Knowledge is beyond mere speech—
Super-yoga’s goal to reach.
Avoid the fools and their lore,
Their theories **** the mind’s core.

These theories come from Hell,
Paid by Satan’s crafty spell.
They’ll lie more to break the floor,
Drag us all down to the core.

For words are beasts’ mighty power—
With them they wage the darkest war.

But what’s beyond the spoken spell
Is where the Soul’s true Alchemy dwells.
Don’t walk the Goat’s dark, crooked road—
Rush instead to Spirit’s abode!



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



The Path of Inner Knowing

Light and Darkness weave their snare,
Madness lurks if you don’t dare
Pierce the veil alone, to see
Truth beyond what’s forced to be.

Innocence is shattered sin—
Trust your pulse, the spark within!
Only those who don’t succumb
Will escape the shadow’s drum.

Darkness first must be embraced,
Only then is Light traced.
Pure minds open gates unseen,
Where Spirit dwells — eternal, keen.

Mad worlds howl with fractured cries,
Cleanse your mind, strip off the lies.
Amidst the chaos, still discern
Flashing sparks where soul can burn.

This Light, a fire deep inside,
Flickers past the worldly tide.
No dawn waits for those who drown
In the mud where fiends wear crowns.

War and plague have stripped the skin,
Revealing depths of shadow’s grin.
The abyss, where words run dry,
Speaks the truth that cannot lie.

True Knowing moves beyond the speech,
Yogic realms within your reach.
Turn away from hollow sheep,
Their lore is death; the mind, a heap.

These whispers come from darkest pits,
Paid by those who conjure myths.
Their lies crack worlds, and pull us down,
Dragging all to fate’s dark crown.

For words are chains, the tyrant’s tools,
Binding souls, creating fools.

But beyond that silent throne
Dwells the alchemy unknown.
Shun the goat’s crooked, cursed way—
Seek the Spirit’s light, the Day.



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



Self-Knowing

Light and Darkness twist the mind astray,
Unless you pierce their veils alone, you’ll stray:
The world is writ with lies—a venomed tome,
By hands corrupt, who claim to guide you home.

Gullibility — a sin that chains the soul;
Ignite your inner spark, reclaim control!
Success awaits not in the darkened snare,
But where the purest minds embrace the flare.

This Light resides within, a sacred fire,
Though shadows dance and tempt with false desire.
The world awaits no dawn — beasts drown in grime,
Yet war and plague have marked this cursed time.

In filth profound, the bottom’s cold and bare,
All else is gilded words — a hollow snare.
True Knowing lies beyond the tongue and speech —
A yogic path where mortal bounds beseech.

Beware the fools and prophets bought with gold,
Their twisted tales leave Wisdom cold and old.
Their words, a shroud to hide the deepest pit,
To drag the souls who seek beyond their writ.

Beyond all words — beyond the tyrant’s reign,
Awaits the alchemy of soul’s domain.
Forsake the goat’s dark path, ascend in grace —
To Spirit’s spheres — the sacred, boundless space!



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



The Path of Self-Knowing

Light and Darkness — twin serpents coiled within the mind,
Their hiss entwines the seeker lost, who fails to find
The thread of truth amid the endless, shadowed maze,
Where lies like poison drip and twist through endless days.

From ancient halls of wisdom’s crypt, the heralds speak:
“Beware the guile that softens hearts and makes them weak.
Ignite the flame — the sacred spark of inner sight,
Lest blinded souls embrace the darkness as their light.”

The sin of trust — a heavy chain that binds the soul,
But intuition’s voice can break the tyrant’s hold.
To walk the night is not to fall, but to ascend,
Where minds as pure as crystal through the dark transcend.

The Light dwells deep — a flame beyond the mortal veil,
Though outer worlds be drowned in chaos, lies, and pale
Reflections of the truth, corrupted, stained by strife,
The cosmos waits for those who seek the inner life.

War’s smoke and plague’s cold breath have marked the cursed age,
The filth beneath the surface hides the prophet’s cage.
Words empty as the wind — they haunt the halls of men,
Yet true enlightenment lies far beyond their ken.

The sacred path — a yogic flight beyond the tongue,
Where silence sings and boundless mysteries are sung.
Beware the charlatans who trade in false disguise,
Their silver tongues conceal the pit beneath the skies.

Their tales a shroud, their lies a veil to hide the deep,
They seek to drag the earnest down where shadows creep.
But those who dare to pierce the veil and walk alone,
Shall find the soul’s true flame — a light forever known.

Beyond all words, beyond the grasp of tyrant’s chain,
There lies the alchemy where spirit shall regain
Its throne — a realm where time dissolves in endless space,
And every soul returns to its eternal place.

Forsake the goat’s dark path of chaos and despair,
Ascend the sacred spheres, the boundless realms of air.
The Spirit calls beyond the veil of mortal strife,
To dance in cosmic fires and know eternal life.

So heed the call, brave seeker, cast aside the night,
Embrace the dawn within — the pure, transcendent light.
For only those who walk the lonely, winding way
Can pierce the veil and bring the light to endless day.

— The End —