Friends, in the Introductory portion we have seen how Herodotus
gave birth to the subject of 'History'. Now I conclude this true story
by quoting a poem by the English poet Edgar O' Shaughnessy, which
is very appropriate for my Story! Please take your time to read, there is no hurry! Thanks, -Raj Nandy.

        HISTORIANS  AFTER  HERODOTUS
Herodotus became the trail blazer with his narration
of History,
Inspiring several Greek and Roman chroniclers as  
we subsequently get to see!
There was Thucydides, Livy, Sallust, Xenophon, and
Polybius,
Not forgetting chroniclers like Julius Caesar, Tacitus,
and the oft quoted Plutarch!
The Roman scholar Cicero had called Herodotus the
‘Father of History’;
But later the Greek historian Plutarch criticized him
for his many hearsay inaccuracies!
Even though Herodotus had cautioned his readers in
his Historical narrations, -
About those hearsay accounts and doubtful portions!
Greek historian Thucydides, who was a junior and a
contemporary of Herodotus,
For his accurate historical rendering of ‘The
Peloponnesian War’ between Athens and Sparta, -
Was praised by later scholars very much!

CYCLIC AND LINEAR PATTERNS OF HISTORY:
Herodotus believed in Nemesis and a repetitive
pattern of History.
While Thucydides with his strict investigation drew
a line between myth and reality!
Thucydides viewed history as a political struggle
based on the nature of man;
And felt that since human nature does not change
often, -
The past events would reoccur once again !
The Greeks believed in this cyclic notion of History,
Also developed a prose style to narrate their stories!
Unlike the Greeks, Roman History did not begin in an
oral Homeric tradition,
But they had a ready-made Greek model for their
historical narrations!
Roman historiography began after the Second Punic
War against Hannibal of Carthage,
When Quintus Flavius Pictor wrote Rome’s History
in Greek, instead of Latin!     (around 200BC)
Cato the Elder, was the first to write in Latin Rome’s
History,
While the Roman Livy born in Padua in 59 BC, was
praised for introducing a ‘milky richness’ of style  
for narrating these true stories !
From Julius Caesar’s accounts we learn about the
Gallic Wars and events of those ancient days;
But he Romans had used History for propaganda
and self-praise !
Also to make the conquered world to look up to them
with wonder and admiration;
For the Romans were creating History with their
conquests in a steady progression!

CYCLIC VIEW OF TIME AND HISTORY
Perhaps the cyclic view of Time has influenced the
cyclic concept of History to a great extent,
Since this cyclic view was held by many of those
Ancients !
Ancient doctrine of 'eternal return' like the seasons
of Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring, existed
in old Egypt, and the Hindu religion;
Also with the Greek Pythagoreans and Stoic
conceptions;
As well as in the Mayans and the Aztec Civilizations!
In the East, cyclic theory of History as succession of
dynastic rule developed in China,
While the Vedic Hindus developed their theory of
Cycles of Yugas!    (epoch or era)
Writing of Indian History had commenced with
the Colonial British initially,
Who had criticized India for its lack of a sense of
History and Historiography!
The ancient Hindus were more concerned with
religious philosophy, and the essence of existence,
Rather than getting absorbed with historical details!
The Hindus divide cosmic time into cyclic eras of
Satya, Tretra, Dwapara, and Kali Yugas;
With each era covering many thousands of our
human eras!
These Yugas or Cyclic segments of time is said to
repeat itself in a cyclic motion, -
Which had perhaps mystified their early views
of a clear Historical perception.
However, later Indian historians have corrected
the earlier British interpretations, -
By dividing Indian History into Ancient, Medieval
and Modern Periods,
Replacing the earlier Hindu, Muslim, and British
Periods as Colonial segregation!
And also by correcting the British Aryan Invasion
Theory as Aryan Migration;
Based on more accurate historical research and
better perception!

CHRISTIAN AND LATER VIEWS OF HISTORY:
St. Augustine during the 4th century AD, systematized
the Christian view of History, -
As a struggle between the City of God and the City
of Man, where the City of God gains victory, -
Establishing peace and prosperity!
The Christian view is therefore Linear with a
positive beginning and an end;
A providential view from the Creation of Adam
till the Day of Last Judgment!

THE RENAISSANCE: (14TH - 17TH CENTURIES):
During this period the theological view gradually
begun to fade, giving rise to the Cyclic concept of
History,
As illustrated by the decline and fall of the mighty
Roman Empire, immortalized by Edward Gibbons
in his narrated story!
This cyclic view was also maintained by Oswald
Spengler, Nikolai Danilevsky, and Paul Kennedy,
during the 19th and the 20th Centuries.

AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT : THE 18TH CENTURY
This period advocated the use of reason to obtain
objective truth, when human beings made all the
difference freed from superstition and bigotry;
Which led to favoring a Linear and a progressive
view of History.
Voltaire symbolizing the spirit of this age had
supported human wit and education, -
Since only enlightened people could give History
a positive direction !
For Karl Marx Feudalism was followed by Capitalism,
and Capitalism by Communism.
History of existing Society as the History of Class
Struggle - was Karl Marx’s new concept!
For social material forces drove History, and this
‘historical materialism’ as a revolutionary view, -
many later Scholars did accept!

SOME MODERN CONCEPTS ABOUT HISTORY
Now I share the views of three of our renowned
Historians; the German Oswald Spengler, the
British Arnold Toynbee, and the American
Carroll Quigley,
To provide you with three different concepts
of History.
Oswald Spengler (1880-1936):
Spengler’s reputation rests on his work titled
‘Decline of the West’, considered as a major
contribution to social theory;
Where he rejects the ‘Linear’ view in favor of
definite, observable, and unrelated cycles of
History!
Rejecting the Eurocentric view of History and its
Linear division into ‘Ancient-Medieval-Modern’
Eras,
Spengler recognizes eight ‘high cultures’ which
evolve as organism, following the cycles of
growth, development, and decline;
And his views astonished the Western mind!
These high cultures were the Babylonian,
Egyptian, Chinese, Indian, Mexican ( Mayan&
Aztec), Classical (Greece& Rome), Arabian,
and Western or Euro-American!
Cultures have a life span of about a thousand
years each,
So the Western Civilization too shall decline one
day, - Spengler did teach!

Arnold Toynbee (1889-1975):
Toynbee’s 12 volumes on ‘A Study of History’
covers a wider spectrum of 23 Civilizations,
Where he rejects Spengler’s cynical theory of
growth and decline of Western Nations!
“Civilization is a movement and not a condition,
a voyage not a harbor”, Arnold said;
Like human beings Civilizations were free to chart
their own course with the capacity to ‘consciously’
choose its destiny, he had felt!
Arnold moves on to formulate his Theory of
‘Challenge and Response’, since by responding to
such challenges Civilizations could move on !
These challenges could be social or environmental
he had said;
The Greeks responded to their growing population
by taking to the seas and maritime trade,
And also prospered as their overseas colonies had
begun to spread!
Toynbee’s Civilization start to decay when they lose
their moral fiber,
He perhaps over emphasized the religious and
cultural aspects, ignoring those economic factors!
But his views were certainly more popular than
the cynical Spengler!

Carroll Quigley (1910-1977):
Quigley’s scientific trained mind could not accept
either of the above views,
So he created a synthesis of Spengler and Toynbee,
while paying History its dues!
Quigley laid down seven stages for the evolution
of Civilization;
Commencing with Mixture, Gestation, Expansion,
Conflict, Universal Empire, Decay, and Invasion!
His Civilizations are neither groups nor individuals,
But each is a system which share some common
traits.
In Quigley’s model each system come into being
adapted to their environment;
But since environment always changes, Quigley
states with some relish, -
Systems which cannot adapt themselves, must
necessarily perish!

WE ARE ALL LIVING PARTICIPANTS IN THE
  LONG UNFOLDING HUMAN STORY!
“Know Thy Self” said Socrates, and the Delphic
Oracle had pronounced that he was wisest of
the Greeks!
To know ourselves truly we must know about
our past,
For this evolutionary process shall continue as
long as the Human species last!
Today we remain as a living monument to the
past,
We continue to make History as long as humans
on this planet shall last!
Our planet earth is around 4.5 billion years old;
While the first ****-erectus emerged around
two million years hence - we are told!
By walking ***** the two hands became free to
develop,
With flexible fingers and the rotating thumb;
Which was crucial for shaping the destiny of
the Human species on earth!
Our Civilization proper dates back to about
five thousand BC,
Thus an emerging pattern we can easily see!
With the development of human consciousness
we have learned to delve inwards, -
To discovered within a vast macro world!
Now, I would love to conclude this narration by
quoting from the English poet Arthur William
Edgar O’Shaughnessy’s book ‘Music and
Moonlight’;       (1874)
Do try to follow the philosophical content relevant
to the Cyclic History of Mankind!

“We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-brakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World losers and world forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties,
We build up the world’s great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire’s glory.
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And there with a new song’s measure
Can trample an empire down.

We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And overthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world’s worth;
For Each Age Is a Dream That’s Dying,
Or One That Is Coming To Birth.”

Thanks my readers and poet friends,
Sincerely hope you will now appreciate
History better, and love its contents!
**ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR
RAJ NANDY OF NEW DELHI

RAJ NANDY
37 followers
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE IN VERSE
                                    By Raj Nandy
THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE WAS A PERIOD OF TRANSITION
BETWEEN MEDIEVAL & THE MODERN  WORLD. I propose to
present in three installments my researched work for both the Art &
History lovers of this Site. Kindly take your time to read at leisure before commenting. Thanks, -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.

                   PART ONE: BACKGROUND
The Term Renaissance :
The word ‘Renaissance’ means ‘to be born again’ ,
Derives from French ‘renaistre’ and Latin ‘renascere’, -
both meaning the same !
Swiss historian Jacob Buckhardt by writing “The
Civilization of Renaissance in Italy”,
Helped to popularize this term during the 19th Century !
The Renaissance evolved out of ‘Christendom’ , which
was Medieval Europe ;
Ruled entirely by the Catholic Church and the Pope !
It formed a period of transition between the Medieval
and the Modern Age ,
And as a contrast to the preceding thousand years , -
Which the Latin scholar Petrarch christened as the
‘Dark Ages’ !
This era saw a revival of interest in classical learning
of Greek and Roman art and culture ;
Focused on individual’s life on earth , with a new spirit
of adventure !
Happiness was no longer shelved to an afterlife and
repentance for salvation ;
But it lay in the advancement of human beings on Earth , -
with secular contemplation !
Thus individualism , secularism , and humanism , were
chief characteristics of the Renaissance ;
With innovations in art, architecture , and a scientific
temper of thought !
Knowledge no longer remained confined within the cold
ecclesiastical walls ,
But it spread from Italy across Northern Europe , -
To distant English shores through France !
During the Renaissance era Humanism became its
dominant philosophy ;
And there begins our Renaissance Story, since knowledge
is no man’s monopoly !
Events leading up to the Renaissance were many ;
Let me now dwell upon some salient features which
shaped its History !

THE BLACK DEATH (Peaked between 1347-1352) :
It was brought by Genoese merchant ships from the Orient ,
The fatal bacillus of the bubonic plague carried in the blood
stream of rodents !
The plague from Sicily and Italy spread to Northern Europe ,
All medicines failed , and even the Church provided no hope !
After having raged for almost a decade it started to abate ;
But by then almost one-third of entire Europe’s population
lay dead !
This deadly plague which followed the Hundred Year’s War
between England and France ,
Created social , economic and political upheavals in Europe,
leaving little to chance !
People began to lose faith in the church and on sermons of
afterlife ,
Secular thoughts now prevailed in a world where only the
fittest could survive !
Shortages of labour brought an end to Medieval feudalism
and serfdom ,
And Europe gradually emerged out of those Dark Ages, -
to greet the rising Renaissance sun !
The meager labour force could now bargain for better
wages and individual rights ;
Later, merchant guilds protected specialized labour and
their human rights !
Cities got gradually built and a new social order began
to emerge ,
Historians say that Europe saw the rise of a new Middle
Class !
As Europe gradually begun to recover from the aftermath
of war , plague, and devastation ;
The City-States of Italy lit the torch of a new intellectual
emancipation !
But before moving onto the Italian city-states, I must
mention the Holy Crusades ;
Since the Crusades opened up the doors of knowledge
and trade ;
Helping this ‘New Learning’ of the Renaissance to spread !

THE HOLY CRUSADES (1095-1270) :
At the behest of Pope Urban II and his battle cry “God
Wills It! ” ;
The First Crusade was launched to recapture the Holy Land
from Muslim infidels !
Within a span of next two hundred years eight Crusades
were launched ,
The First one took Jerusalem , but the Second failed to make
Damascus fall !
The Third led by Richard the Lion Heart, made Saladin to
grant the rights , -
To Christian pilgrims to visit their Holy shrines in Palestine !
The Fourth Crusade had sacked Constantinople , - then a
commercial rival of the Italians !
Now cutting a long story short , let us see what History
has taught !
These Crusades helped in opening up the trade routes ,
For importing paper, spices, soap, silk and luxury goods !
Trade was carried out with the countries of Levant region ,
Which included the countries from Turkey to Egypt , -
Bordering the eastern seaboards of the Mediterranean !
These trade routes formed a major conduit of culture
and knowledge ,
And exchanges and interactions broadened the mental
horizon of the Italians !
From Constantinople, recently Christianized Spain , and
the Arab lands , -
The preserved ancient classical knowledge now reached
the Italian hands !
In their School of Salamanca the Arabs of  Spain ,
Had translated works of Aristotle and classical scholars
into Arabic , - thereby preserving the same !
Later scholars translated these precious works into Greek
and Italian ,
And thus the Ancient Classics saw a glorious revival !
The scientific, philosophical, and mathematical thoughts
of the Arabs had also entered Northern Italy ,
From Egypt and the Levant region , to enrich Pre-
Renaissance Italy !
And when Byzantine Empire fell to the Turks in 1453 ,
Its Greek scholars with their precious manuscripts flocked
into Italy !

THE CITY-STATES OF ITALY :
‘Italia’, once the epicenter of the mighty Roman Empire ,
Disintegrated into several small principalities breaking
up Italy entire !
Its mountainous rugged terrain was a barrier to effective
internal communication ;
And no strong unified monarchies emerged, as in other
parts of Europe !
Italy with its peninsula jutting out into the Mediterranean
Sea ,
Had begun to monopolize the trade routes, and also to
prosper economically !
During the time of the Renaissance , Italy had numerous
autonomous city-states and territories ;
Where a powerful leader called the Signore , ruled for
a fixed tenure initially ;
But later this post was declared as hereditary !
Kingdom of Naples controlled the south ;
Republic of Florence and the Papal States the center ;
Genoese and the Milanese the north and west respectively ;
And the Venetians the eastern part of Italy .
These Italian city-states prospered greatly from its growing
trade during the 14th century ;
Its cargo ships visiting Byzantine , and the cities bordering
the Mediterranean Sea !
It became a status symbol for rich families to patronize
art and culture ;
They vied with one another commissioning paintings
and architecture !
But the Italian city-state that had prospered the most ,
Was the city-state of Florence which became the host ;
And the ‘Cradle of European Renaissance’ !
...............................................................­­................................
* ALL COPY RIGHTS WITH THE AUTHOR -RAJ NANDY*
(My Part -II will contain the Story of Florence , - " Cradle of the
Italian Renaissance". Thanks for reading, do recommend this Verse to
your other poet friends!
Comments from Gita Ashok, an Educator, from ‘Poetfreak.com’:- A thoroughly researched erudite collection of historical facts presented in a very lucid and interesting manner. This write made me reminisce all those history lessons that I learnt in school many years ago - many of which I found boring as it was taught in an intimidating way. I feel like going back in time, becoming a student once again and learning history through such creatively written works of art. But I realize that we are all yet students of life and can still continue to learn and grow. I feel fortunate to have read this great piece of literary work and I look forward to reading the second part.-  by Gita Ashok | Reply
Edit poem

AN INTRODUCTION TO ITALIAN RENAISSANCE was added 21 hours ago.

She's like a drama queen,
Plays the 'blame game' like a loser,
Fair minded as a bigot,
Wages war like drones,
As free as surveillance,
As open as privatized prisons,
As equal as feudalism,
As rich as the beggar masses,
Bankrupt as homeowners,
Socialist as the military,
Truthful, trustful as "NEWS," as propaganda,
Pagan as the manufactured Goddess 'Columbia,'
Christian as the stingy,
Pious as a sinner,
Wicked as securities, exchanges on 'Wall Street,'
Insecure as an empire,
Greedy as a fast food glutton,
As brave as a fool,
Warmongering as a chicken hawk politician,
Machevellian as a coward,
As rigged as the free market,
As selfish as Capitalism,
As tolerant as Islam,
Beautiful as a clear cut forest,
Charming as a strip mall,
Forward thinking as chaos,
Lawless as congress,
United as a belligerent crowd,
Compassionate as a swat team,
Green as any petrochemical company,
Organic as pollution,
Deep as a strip mine  .  .  .
  .  .  .

Pluto was just like the rest,
Complete a full rotation, wake up and get dressed,
Open his eyes, feel the weak beams of sunlight on his chest,
Looks upon his brothers and can’t help but be subtly impressed.

There was Earth, a real people’s person,
Wore turf like makeup, but not in equal proportion
To his ever rising water level that always seemed to worsen,
And a high population that could sometimes be a burden.

Riots and drama and wars blemish like acne,
His inhabitants each day getting slowly more crafty,
Some think he’s round, others prefer to live flatly,
I guess being the most popular isn’t so classy.

Jupiter was closer, a real gas giant,
Lived all alone with no people to be her clients,
But stuck in constant alliance with a star filled tyrant,
The universes ring around her finger, a constant engagement.

And then there was Pluto, a boy with a strange condition,
A condition made worse by a long stellar distance,
In a world seemingly endless, it’s time that this came fourth,
What was wrong with Pluto you ask?
Well he was a dwarf.

Due to his small size, Pluto just didn’t quite fit,
The little guy in town, but with a slightly bigger orbit
The shortest, the furthest, not reachable by any rocket,
Until one day the universe did something even more horrid.

2006, the year the family would die,
God took his power, and cast Pluto aside,
No longer a brother, cast him out and took his pride,
Now forever a dwarf planet, it was planet genocide.

From that day on, Pluto became distant,
He was the same as them, same digestive solar system,
But he was victim to prejudice between organisms,
A broken existence, due to planetary feudalism.

By Thomas Charlton

Let’s face it:
Vietnam was a purge.
An undeclared yet official
War on largely Black, Chicano,
Mostly urban, poor White-trash--
Any of that unlucky-cohort--
Coming of age, mid-60s America.
A purge yes, but 'Nam was also an
Intelligence Test:  them that went,
Particularly those who never returned,
Those scoring at least two standard deviations out,
Outside normal, therefore inferior genetic make-up,
Those the country could surely do without.
“Three Generations of Imbeciles Are Enough.”
www.genomicslawreport.com /.../three-generations-of-imbeciles-are-enough... So wrote Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. in Buck v. Bell, a 1927 Supreme Court case upholding a Virginia law that authorized the state to...”
I couldn’t have said it better, Justice Holmes!
The Nam: those of us who did survive were
Nonetheless, mangled and traumatized,
In both body & spirit.
We knew right away we’d been duped,
Particularly those gun-friendly southern boys,
Hunting ***** for sport and Country, now contemplating
Remorseful acts of mass homicide 40 years ago.
The real poindexters of our generation, of course:
Got a medical deferment, or
Stayed in college, or
Went north to Canada, or
As I did, joined the Coast Guard, unfortunately,
In addition to my nightmare Indochine,
My personal Disneyland Jungle Cruise,
Based on Joseph Conrad’s
Congo Nightmare Novella--
Heart of Darkness.)
And Józef wrote it in English.
Which was for the native Pollack,
His third language after Polish & French,
Which is probably a good time to
Encourage each & every young punk
On the cellblock to make good use of their time:
Learn a foreign language., e.g.
Why not Spanish?
Given Obama’s farcical, unrestricted border policy.
Soon to be a pervasive lingua Esperanto.

My politics? Sign me up for a little T.A.D.,
Manning a 50-caliber machine gun on Donald’s Wall.
Donald Trump:  A Modern Hadrian?
Don’t get me started on politics.
Take a Spanish class.
Finally, you’ll know what those
Grease-ball Mexican landscapers are
Saying behind your back, right in front of you.

After the Army, & after college on the G.I. Bill,
That’s when I joined the Coast Guard.
OCS in the 1970s was a difficult (read:
Lower Standards) recruiting time for
The Armed Forces of the United States,
Including the U.S. Coast Guard.
OCS: The Oklahoma Cook School we joked.
Officer Candidate School: graduating
Nautically savvy 90-Day Wonders,
Inculcated with conduct becoming &
Other archaic, chivalrous values,
Imprinted with Chain of Command obeisance,
Etched deep an acolyte’s primer on class-consciousness.
Blimey! What a difference after my previous
Two years stint as an Army grunt which leads me to
An overwhelming question: Why do Officers live
Better than enlisted pukes?
The Military: last refuge for scoundrels,
Escape artists & last bastion of medieval feudalism.
Officers! Welcome to the Aristocracy.
Mazel Tov,
Bienvenidos!
It's the Class Structure,
The dominant organizing principle for humanity,
Since the dawn of human history, perhaps longer,
Consider, if you will, “Alley Oop.”
“Alley Oop” Lyrics | MetroLyrics: (www.metrolyrics.com) “There's a man in the funny papers we all know . . . Eats nothin' but bearcat stew, A mean motor scooter & a bad go-getter . . . King of the jungle jive.”
Even longer if we go troglodyte era,
Some mean-mother, some swinging
Foucault’s pendulum set of *****,
Some club-wielding Duke of Earl—
Simply put: some Alpha Male,
Sticking it up whatever polygamous
Multiple Missus *** just happened to be
Bending over within my field of vision at
Any given moment.
I am the block’s biggest, baddest, meanest cat,
Made right by might: physical power &
Will to use it.

Then came Divine Right: Dieu et mon droit.
French for “God and my right.”
Conceived by the shrewd ones,
Those staying out of trouble,
Cringing in the corner of the cave, AKA
The inherently weak, concluding, at last, with
Marx: “The history of all hitherto existing
Society is the history of class struggles.”

Everything is absurd.
Nothing will ever make sense.
Looking for an answer, a purpose
is your only answer, and purpose.
I won't invent anything to believe in
or belive in any invention of man.
I Dont believe in anything:
rainbows
pancakes
jackets
parents
light
speed
love
god
­the sun
stars
smoke
fire
hell
kisses
music
sound
movies
death
life
re­ligion
answers
questions
nations
nationalities
race
communism
cap­italism
feudalism
nothing.
I don't believe in anything but
rain on summer days
and tectonic plates.
It doesn't make sense
but then again
everything is absurd.
I indulge
and elaborate.

Amidst the calamity of self-righteous politicians,
I step into my mandate of securing my homeland,
A village is in trouble, they said,
They failed to mention the looming hidden weapons of destruction.

First, my brother steps into the snare,
I follow suit for no man in our team falls alone,
Ensnared by the enemy, alone and nowhere to run,
We stand and fight until we all fall down.

Apparently, it wasn't enough that we had fallen,
They chopped us up and made us spectacles,
Of hatred and feudalism, that oozed from their souls,
Our death not in vain as the villagers are safe,
Why then now the bigots bicker so?

this iam a celestial being
mother natures sun
as night ends the Earth comes from the west
rising into the east into Starlight called sun
Earth passing under the starlight of day
the darkness begins Earth journey to the west
Earth truths portrayed as earth sets
its a lovely Star over the rising western horizon
all hazy sharp shards afire blurring
a luminous red light piercing the clouds
sky energy swirling on towards the moment
an eternity I gasp at the power of day to night
portrayed  chains of society
know the planets the sky are born within a chariot
to ride the solar storms wind thru time
trickling head waters being red for along long time
look at patience surrounding understanding delays
the future of beings in time help patience to grow
build strength to lead a form above your needs
negotiations are off the table let these be scrapes for dogs
respect demands  standing the ground
light rays of a lovely star end on the western horizon
a white being in the luminous red fireball
proud creations made from Star
one of 700 million white people the smallest  tribe
of humans made by dusting of star in the oxygen
splattering beings in rays each day feeding the minds eye
the life of a star set the humans free
released on the path to eternity being Star rays
making a heart a brain and hands reaching for humanity
to educate for eternity a proud being a reflection of a Star
not Earth bound but contained in a body
by the gravity the womb of earth planet
all of life senses aware to grow to change
a binding spirit allows its creation growth
to flow with the Stars of the Universe
a flower of a sort allowing spirit love
in one who sees the sustainable life living
this planet Earth is the life with in me
she provides the path to eternity
a journey of survival co-existence
within the womb of earth gravity
Earth is the Mother
all the beings here the living senses
breathing the air the dust of Star light
our home the Milky Way  galaxy
the Universe is moving and so are we to Eternity
100 years of fossil fuel power
in 100 years computer television tape recorder phones
in 100 years jets airplanes automobile boats
in 100 years weapons guns bombs missiles nuclear war
the planet has died 40% extinction and gaining
water drying up of or polluted  
7 billion people only 500 million working
the rest paid to eat and watch wide screen TV
country borders left open you come and go
a welfare check plenty of housing and food
humanity the path your roots to eternity
you are bound to power the rich the greedy
feudalism that steals the food from your tables
the white in me sees the need for sustainability
life living Earth alive use the sustainable forces
she provides for you to survive being white
a majority ruling the world with our products
between our ***** and abdomen these waters
of time trickle thru patience holds the celestial needs
to know creation before it is turned to rebuild
our initiatives be alert in the realm
allow your being to know the seeds to mature
to honor the family humanity
never change your life  inside mature before waste kills you
Bow down to know one on the path of patience and ownership over all
ride the winds chariot to completion
find airy intellectualism  peace and joy
let love survive in the solar winds
a time of Eternity   gjmars   6/14/15

If you find it so offensive
that I don't passively accept the *******
you so zealously defend
with phoney statistics and appeals to irrelevant authority,
perhaps you should try to empathize
with how offensive that ******* may be
to a person who values and respects
individuals' divergent opinions.

Then again, in thy defense,
they don't really seem like thy opinions,
they've just been programmed into thee
from a malleable age
by others
who cannot stand a bit of honest dissent
for the sake of earnest
social and spiritual progress.

You're a proper product of your environment.
Your upbringing is bringing you down.

If you want to overgeneralize
and make less options available
that many have fought so hard to make possible,
go live somewhere where you won't have the freedom to choose for yourself
even if it does tend to be an illusion.

But, I know
you don't want to have fewer choices,
you just want others to have fewer choices.

As a philosopher,
I find that ******* disgusting.
Appalling.
Abhorrent.
Evil, even.

If your school of thought
is said to be so 'holy,'
how can it produce such evil people?
I guess it's *******,
either on the teachers' part,
or on the students' part,
or, not unlikely:
both.

A boat that cannot be rocked
is probably an unsafe boat.

A boat that can take a rocking
is more likely to be seaworthy.

It is worth it to find out which boat you're in
before you're committed to it on the open seas of Life.

(Maybe they put you in the unsafe boat on purpose..)

Thy traditionalism
binds thee to a bygone era
of sexism, feudalism, and prejudice.

If it is thy choice
to sacrifice thy free will and curiosity
to that ages old cult,
I venture to claim that you deserve to,
just don't expect any sympathy
from this devout skeptic;

I rock the boat
not to destroy what's good,
but to try to **** out what isn't healthy.

It's nothing personal,
I'm just fond of Devil's Advocacy
in the face of a straw-man argument.

The only thing more blaring
than the fallacies in your claims
is your blind and willing ignorance.

We all seek comfort,
but allowing your intellect to be usurped
for someone else's benefit
is a self-sacrifice seldom worthy of existing.

Some falsely believe that knowledge brings comfort,
but I know that it is only the willingness to deny such comfort
that makes such comfort attainable.

You aren't comfortable,
you're just shut off from the world.

Have the courage to step outside your own mind,
have the courage to step back from yourself and your ego
even if for just a little while,
and perhaps you shall find
that it was only you holding you back,
all along.

Do not hate:

learn;
forgive;
transcend;
seek to understand.
Grow;
nurture;
live;
love:
before it's too late
to reconcile yourself with your truest self.

Stop being used by your mind
and start utilizing it's potential:
be yourself and become the greatest possible actualization of your Godself.

No philosophy is an enemy,
only One's philosophobia is.

She's like a drama queen,
Plays the 'blame game' like a loser,
Fair minded as a bigot,
Wages war like drones,
As free as surveillance,
As open as privatized prisons,
As equal as feudalism,
As rich as the beggar masses,
Bankrupt as homeowners,
Socialist as the military,
Truthful, trustful as "NEWS," as propaganda,
Pagan as the manufactured Goddess 'Columbia,'
Christian as the stingy,
Pious as a sinner,
Wicked as securities, exchanges on 'Wall Street,'
Insecure as an empire,
Greedy as a fast food glutton,
As brave as a fool,
Warmongering as a chicken hawk politician,
Machevellian as a coward,
As rigged as the free market,
As selfish as Capitalism,
As tolerant as Islam,
Beautiful as a clear cut forest,
Charming as a strip mall,
Forward thinking as chaos,
Lawless as congress,
United as a belligerent crowd,
Compassionate as a swat team,
Green as any petrochemical company,
Organic as pollution,
Deep as a strip mine  .  .  .
  .  .  .

What Walt Whitman Knew About Democracy


For the great American poet, the peculiar qualities of grass suggested a way to resolve the tension between the individual and the group.


When Walt Whitman began conceiving his great volume of poetry, “Leaves of Grass,” in the 1850s, American democracy was in serious danger over the issue of slavery. As we celebrate National Poetry Month this month, the problems facing our democracy are different, but Whitman still has a great deal to teach us about democratic life, because he saw that we are perpetually in danger of succumbing to two antidemocratic forces. The first is hatred between Americans, which Whitman saw erupt into civil war in 1861.

The second danger lies in the hunger for kings. The European literature and culture that preceded Whitman and surrounded him when he wrote “Leaves of Grass” was largely what he called “feudal”: It revolved around the elect, the special, the few. Whitman understood human fascination with kings and aristocrats, and he sometimes tried to debunk it. But mostly he asked his readers to shift their interest away from feudalism to the beauties of democracy and the challenge of sustaining and expanding it.

Whitman offers one metaphor for the grass after another, and one feels that he could go on forever.

This challenge is what inspired him to find his central poetic image for democracy, the grass: “A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands.” Whitman says that he can’t and won’t offer a literal answer to the question. Instead he spins into an astonishing array of “guesses.” The grass “is the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven”; it’s “the handkerchief of the Lord…Bearing the owner’s name somewhere in the corners, that we may see and remark and say Whose?”

To Whitman, “the grass is itself a child…the produced babe of the vegetation.” “Tenderly will I use you, curling grass,” he writes. “It may be that you are from old people and from women, and from offspring taken soon out of their mothers’ laps / And here you are the mothers’ laps.” He offers one metaphor for the grass after another, and one feels that he could go on forever.



But mainly Whitman’s grass signifies American equality: “I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,/And it means,/Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,/Growing among black folks as among white,/Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff,/I give them the same, I receive them the same.” Whatever our race and origin, whatever our station in life, we’re all blades of grass. But by joining together we become part of a resplendent field of green, stretching gloriously on every side.

Whitman found a magnificent metaphor for democratic America and its people. Like snowflakes, no two grass blades are alike. Each one has its own being, a certain kind of chlorophyll-based individuality. Yet step back and you’ll see that the blades are all more like each other than not. Americans, too, are at least as much alike as we are different, and probably more so. America is where we can be ourselves and yet share deep kinship with our neighbors.

And who are our neighbors? Kanuck, Congressman, Tuckahoe, Cuff—Canadian, legislator, Virginia planter, Black man, all of the teeming blades of grass that we see around us. When you stand back far enough, you can’t see any of the individual blades, but look closer and there they are—vibrant and unique, no two alike. We say “e pluribus unum,” from many one. But who could have envisioned what that would look like and how it would feel before Whitman came along?


MORE IN IDEAS


The grass is Whitman’s answer to the problem that bedeviled his contemporary Ralph Waldo Emerson: how to resolve the tension between the individual and the group. Emerson is sometimes hopeful that the two can cohere. When you speak your deep and true thoughts, no matter how controversial, he believed that in time the mass of men and women will come around to you. Each will say, ‘this is my music, this is myself,” Emerson says in “The American Scholar.” But mostly he is skeptical, believing that society is almost inevitably the enemy of genius and individuality.

Whitman’s image of the grass suggests that the one and the many can merge, and that discovery allows him to imagine a world without significant hierarchy. Can any one blade of grass be all that much more important than any other? When you make the grass the national flag, as it were, you get to love and appreciate all the people who surround you. You become part of a community of equals. You can feel at home.

We can look at those we pass and say not ‘That is another’ but ‘That too is me. That too I am.’

In “Leaves of Grass,” soon after he offers his master metaphor Whitman rises up to view American democracy from overhead. The poem’s famous catalogues of people doing what they do every day are quite simple: “On the piazza walk five friendly matrons with twined arms;/ The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut in the hold,/The Missourian crosses the plains, toting his wares and his cattle,/The fare-collector goes through the train—he gives notice by the jingling of loose change.”

This is your family, these are your sisters and brothers, Whitman effectively says. In general, we walk the streets with a sense of isolation. But if we can move away from our addictions to hierarchy and exclusive individuality, and embrace Whitman’s trope of the grass, our experience of day-to-day life can be different. We can look at those we pass and say not “That is another” but “That too is me. That too I am.” Or so Whitman hopes.

Of course, the benefits that Whitman promises do not come for free, or simply by reading his poem. We’ve got to meet his vision halfway, by being amiable, friendly, humane and nonhierarchical. This repudiation of hierarchy is not so easy; it’s not clear that even Whitman himself pulls it off. Isn’t he trying to be a great poet, the first truly American bard? But his effort matters. He knew that democracy is always vulnerable, that the best hope for human happiness could disappear from the earth. But Whitman would not let that happen without a fight.

—Mr. Edmundson is a professor of English at the University of Virginia. This essay is adapted from his new book “Song of Ourselves: Walt Whitman and the Fight for Democracy,” published this week by Harvard University Press.

Copyright ©2020 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 87990cbe856818d5eddac44c7b1cdeb8
Appeared in the April 17, 2021, print edition as 'What Whitman Knew About Democracy.'

.
She's like a drama queen,
Plays the 'blame game' like a loser,
Fair minded as a bigot,
Wages war like drones,
As free as surveillance,
As open as privatized prisons,
As equal as feudalism,
As rich as the beggar masses,
Bankrupt as homeowners,
Socialist as the military,
Truthful, trustful as "NEWS," as propaganda,
Pagan as the manufactured Goddess 'Columbia,'
Christian as the stingy,
Pious as a sinner,
Wicked as securities, exchanges on 'Wall Street,'
Insecure as an empire,
Greedy as a fast food glutton,
As brave as a fool,
Warmongering as a chicken hawk politician,
Machevellian as a coward,
As rigged as the free market,
As selfish as Capitalism,
As tolerant as Islam,
Beautiful as a clear cut forest,
Charming as a strip mall,
Forward thinking as chaos,
Lawless as congress,
United as a belligerent crowd,
Compassionate as a swat team,
Green as any petrochemical company,
Organic as pollution,
Deep as a strip mine  .  .  .
  .  .  .

Test my patience
Is a virtue
If you think
These words can't hurt you
Or subvert your bricks and thrones
To shallow caves of sticks and stones
And early graves of mogul masses
Unenlightened social classes
Cashing in the broadcaste system
Fearful fascist feudalism
Cataclysm communist
Red dead to rites of populist
We can't resist the terrorize
In refugees we demonize
So televise the violent crimes
And lionize the Frankensteins
Cuz' we all scream for Isis stream
To guillotine the fields of green  
The Vaccines are the influenza
FDA is salmonella
Poisoning the stomach bile
In the processed garbage aisle
As the vile needle kills
The blood which pours as rivers spills
Polluted by the politics
The very air we breathe is sick
Like respirating pits of tar
A pack of Marbs is all we are
On par with country clubs of pigs
Who sell us lies and oil rigs
And stuff the stockings up with coal
And change the climate of my soul
To winter's blight of coldest steel
Still rusting in this rage I feel
Then melting in the wildfire
Of the funeral empire
Rolling thunder power dice
Of life and gambling on its price
As they repeal and then erase
All knowledge of this human race

But what's the point?

Phospholipids, sucrose, phosphates
Biology feels like memorizing vocabulary.

Absquatulate, etymological, effluvium
English wants me to be a human glossary.

Axiom, cartesian, diophantine
Math is repeating the same problems in different ways.

Feudalism, hegemony, cartellino
History is staring at facts about dead people.

Humdrum, repetitiousness, homogeneity
Every second of monotony bores me.

Was it always like this?

Ah Sheik Hog - **!
One "FAKE" Wingman
think Monty Python's
Flying Circus skittering
on thin ice - Skidamarink
a ****, a ****...

hither and yon, to and fro
Via O'hare To Dublin y'know
Cuz, The Leprechaun within
me, no spring chicken bro,
nevertheless oz offer friendship in toto
good day to thee with cheerful adieu.

Though nowhere to be found despite search team
loudly trumpeting thru depleting fresh air
supply terrestrially polluted atmosphere,
asper the unknown whereabouts, regarding
said royally titled quasi legally inherited bare

naked lady loving ******* oven heated affair
son last seen donning Herringbone Wool headwear
supplemented by Irish merrino wool sweater
and custom made Hemp (smoking hot) pants
informing observer with seedy, faux debonair,

and pseudo (reed "FAKE") suave cultured couture
clothing automatically camouflaging to disappear
without a trace, thee alluded to rival to the throne
(Irish to keep ye in the dark) like chocolate eclair
secret recipe (one takes to the grave), unless held

at gunpoint by bonafide Machiavellian consigliere
ruthless if necessary forcing captive to declare
high fidelity, indemnity, loyalty, et cetera to a
life of lawlessness adopting anonymous incognito
guise accepting bewig noggin with long knotty hair

tattoo skin with "FAKE" scars to accentuate fear
factor accepting (cryptic blood bonded) brotherhood till
death do you part loot, pillage, vandalize, et cetera
in a blitzkrieg effort (albeit violently) to repair
evenly distribute disparity between 1% and 99%

grassroots uprising (peopled with migrants) spear
writ ting their exploitation at the (Taj Mahal) bear
sized paws swiping at susceptibility, vulnerability,
inequality, et cetera series of unfortunate events
decreed, instilled, ordained clamped like ironware

shackling one generation after another, an outright
outdated, on par as anachronism, feudalism, stoicism
where stark difference between rich and poor unfair,
especially, *** the latter labor sweat of their brow,
which backbreaking toil essentially endows wealthy
at expense of grunt work signalling ominous nightmare.

Ah Sheik Hog - **!
One "FAKE" Wingman
think Monty Python's
Flying Circus skittering
on thin ice - Skidamarink
a ****, a ****...

hither and yon, to and fro
Via O'hare To Dublin y'know
Cuz, The Leprechaun within
me, no spring chicken bro,
nevertheless oz offer friendship in toto
good day to thee with cheerful adieu.

Though nowhere to be found despite search team
loudly trumpeting thru depleting fresh air
supply terrestrially polluted atmosphere,
asper the unknown whereabouts, regarding
said royally titled quasi legally inherited bare

naked lady loving ******* oven heated affair
son last seen donning Herringbone Wool headwear
supplemented by Irish merrino wool sweater
and custom made Hemp (smoking hot) pants
informing observer with seedy, faux debonair,

and pseudo (reed "FAKE") suave cultured couture
clothing automatically camouflaging to disappear
without a trace, thee alluded to rival to the throne
(Irish to keep ye in the dark) like chocolate eclair
secret recipe (one takes to the grave), unless held

at gunpoint by bonafide Machiavellian consigliere
ruthless if necessary forcing captive to declare
high fidelity, indemnity, loyalty, et cetera to a
life of lawlessness adopting anonymous incognito
guise accepting bewig noggin with long knotty hair

tattoo skin with "FAKE" scars to accentuate fear
factor accepting (blood bonded) brotherhood till
death do you part loot, pillage, vandalize, et cetera
in a blitzkrieg effort (albeit violently) to repair
evenly distribute disparity between 1% and 99%

grassroots uprising (peopled with migrants) spear
writ ting their exploitation at the (Taj Mahal) bear
sized paws swiping at susceptibility, vulnerability,
inequality, et cetera series of unfortunate events
decreed, instilled, ordained clamped like ironware

shackling one generation after another, an outright
outdated, on par as anachronism, feudalism, stoicism
where stark difference between rich and poor unfair,
especially, *** the latter labor sweat of their brow,
which backbreaking toil essentially endows wealthy
at expense of grunt work signalling ominous nightmare.

mastodons roaming
birds tweeting
discordant
kings
in a coinbase
fixing the 22nd century
for feudalism
meta minded
immoral
and then there's the real problems

Terrible Cold

"Insanity is nothing compared to a common cold."
— MASH*, 1975


Madness universal
Is nothing, cold, near you:
The world’s a moon-mad circle,
A sieve where lies drip through.

The herd with hollow faces,
Their minds are clogged with rot,
Fall into dark embraces
Of fascist pigs they got.

This faith turns all believers
To dung that speaks as Law,
And Evil reigns — deceivers,
A sewer, rule, and maw.

It will not leave the frantic,
Nor give the sane relief;
A few still think, but panic
Extinguishes belief.

The clever few, the thinkers,
Will vanish soon as birds,
As acid cloudland lingers,
Dissolving hope in words.

Acidic plague is spreading,
The lie becomes the chain,
And all are meekly treading
Through tyranny’s domain.

No “virus” yet detected —
A banana clears the test!
But brains are mass-ejected,
By tyrants’ will possessed.

With needles they are killing
The herd they seek to bind,
And Night, its triumph thrilling,
Would darken humankind.

But tyrants dream in error —
For Nature has her scars,
And Bedlam turns to terror,
Then nothing, under stars.

The Sun will burn infection,
All madness soon will cease,
And Reason’s resurrection
Will bring a world release.

Look east! The dawn is glowing,
Its fire the herd shall fry.
The plague that kept them going
Is doomed at last to die.

The beasts themselves — infection!
The inhuman — the plague!
Their kingdom of defection
Collapses in the ****.

They turned the blooming garden
Into a reeking pit;
They slaughtered Mind for pardon,
And made a sewer of it.

So now the flames are waiting
To burn the pesthouse black:
Decay has reached its grating,
Its final, stinking crack.



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




1. Acid Clouds
The acid sky will choke the lies,
And Reason flames as Darkness dies.

2. Bedlam
Mad tyrants rot, their rule is brief —
The Dawn returns with blazing grief.

3. Herd of Night
The herd obeys, the tyrant feeds —
But Fire will cut their rotten seeds.



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



Zoo-Yard

Intellect: zero.
Emotions: a flood.
The world is stuck in filth —
A madhouse of mud.

Complaints are useless,
They don’t stir this hell:
The zoo-yard devours,
It fattens too well.

It thrives on “treatment” —
Inhuman, insane.
With false-doctor armies
Ensuring the chain.

Their needles bring poison,
The cure they bestow;
And fascist tormentors
Keep grinding us low.

For all must be trampled,
That “order” may reign;
A herd of bred idiots
Secures their domain.

Production of zombies —
A never-ending stream,
The triumph of Evil,
The nightmare, the dream.

The clever are silenced,
Confined to their pens;
Mass-lying’s a weapon
That shatters their sense.

For the wise, it is nausea,
For the crowd — a parade,
A carnival circus,
A swamp of charade.

A mixture of shame,
Of forgetting, of lies —
The herds are all grazing,
Their souls the great prize.

Those souls are for sale,
The market is grim;
The world of cold carcasses
Drags all to its hymn.

That hymn is of labor,
Constructing new hell,
Where inhuman monsters
Enforce genocide well.

But flames will consume it —
This zoo-yard will fall,
The age of mass slaughter
Will crumble with all.

Already the dawn
Brings the penultimate days;
The Sun writes the order —
Burn stumps in its blaze.

Yet the “stumps” still pretend,
They sell off their soul,
For a box full of lies
They betray their whole.

A coffin of falsehood
Is the coin of their trade;
And war nears its ending —
Choose now, be not afraid.

For only in battle
Can soul be set free;
Else rot as a stump
And be lost endlessly.



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



*******

No courage ever needed,
If you’re an ******* born.
Beneath a fascist’s breeding,
You drown in filth and scorn.

Your soul is lost and wasted,
You rot in hell’s embrace;
No feeling left, just tasted
The sewer’s dead disgrace.

You’re garbage pulling others,
A coward to the core;
The worst of human brothers —
Much fouler than the floor.

For cowards walk with idiots,
With treachery, with fear;
Their weakness breeds the hideous
That kills what once was clear.

The ******* is a traitor,
The dullard — prison bars;
Each coward is creator
Of Hell beneath the stars.

From childhood you were shackled,
Your fear became your law,
Two-faced and weak, you cackled,
Your soul forever raw.

You “love” the filthy order,
The tyrant’s crooked might;
A trick to drive out Reason
And turn all day to night.

Adapt, submit, surrender,
Rot honor in the slime;
That’s how the herd pretenders
Exist through all of time.

A “life” in fascist stinking —
A paradox of wax:
A coward’s form is shrinking,
A mask the tyrant cracks.

They mold you into monsters
Of filth and empty lies;
They blind your mind with darkness,
The prison multiplies.

But foul-born beasts won’t linger —
The Sun will burn them through,
It lifts the Spirit’s finger
And saves the souls anew.

The Day will boil the sewer,
Prepare yourself for fight;
Its vapor cleanses truer —
A blaze of Spirit’s might.

“Judgment Day” — a fable
From servile, rotting schools.
The masks are gone, disabled,
We face the devil’s tools.

This is the war of Spirit
’Gainst Satan’s slavish throng;
If you are blind and witless,
Then all for you is wrong.



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



Battle Sparks

1. Pendulum
Through darkest night, despair must break —
The Dawn is born in pain’s awake.

2. World Madhouse
The madhouse burns, the frauds will fall,
The Sun will level lies with all.

3. Need for Higher Mind
One mind united, sharp and vast,
Will break the chains that bind the past.

4. Kasha (Slime of Lies)
The slime of lies corrodes the head,
But Truth will rise where rot has spread.

5. Ego, the Virus
The virus speaks, the soul’s betrayed,
But Spirit cuts the code they’ve made.

6. Illusion of Control
No master’s hand, no will, no choice —
The lie consumes the human voice.

7. Terrible Cold
The herd is plague, the tyrant — rot,
The Sun will burn them on the spot.

8. Terrible Cold
Their plague dissolves in Cosmic Flame,
The Mind returns — the end of shame.

9. Zoo-Yard
The herd is bred, the soul is sold,
Their zoo of lies will soon turn cold.
The Sun ignites — the stumps will fry,
Fight Evil now, or rot and die.

10. *******
The coward’s rot, the tyrant’s pet,
Their prison’s rule is burning yet.
The Sun will boil their stinking lie —
Fight now, or rot, a stump, and die.

11. Force Majeure & Farce
The farce is old, the fools still feed,
The Dark grows stronger on their greed.

12. Art
The stubborn hand can raise the dross,
To heights where fools call it a gloss.

13. Don’t Believe!
Do not believe — but check and see,
The lies will rot, but Truth stays free.

14. Sanctified Approval
The frauds are blessed, the liars praised,
But fire will burn their falsehoods razed.

15. Life’s “Path”
Childhood fear and zombie thrall
Will fall when Spirit breaks the wall.

16. Terrible Cold
The plague will burn, the herd will fall,
The tyrant’s night consumes them all.
But Reason rises, fierce and bright —
The Sun will end this plague of night.

17. Zoo-Yard
Acid sky, the herd decays,
The Sun will purge their wicked ways.
The Spirit rises, souls to save,
Prepare to battle, hearts be brave.

18. *******
Coward rot and tyrant lies,
The Sun will burn their vile disguise.
Fight now, or waste as stump and shell,
The Spirit strikes, the beasts will fell.

19. Pendulum
Despair swings low, then breaks the chain,
The Dawn will rise through darkest pain.

20. Ego, the Virus
The virus rules, but Spirit fights,
It cuts through code and dark delights.

21. Illusion of Control
No hands can steer, no minds can sway,
The lie consumes — the Truth finds way.

22. Kasha
Rot spreads, the slime infects the brain,
Yet Truth will rise through filth and pain.

23. World Madhouse
The madhouse reigns, but light will pierce,
Its chaos ends, the sane shall fierce.

24. Terrible Cold
Evil’s plague dissolves in fire,
The Mind returns, the world’s entire.

25. Art
Dross or gold — the stubborn hand
Will raise it high to rule the land.

26. Don’t Believe!
Check all, believe in none,
The lies will rot, the Truth will run.

27. Sanctified Approval
Frauds are crowned, yet fire’s near,
Their falsehood falls, the end is clear.

28. Life’s “Path”
Childhood chains will break and fall,
The Spirit wakes to guide us all.

29. Pendulum
Swinging low, despair undone,
The Dawn arrives, the fight is won.



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



Fear

Fear sits deep in the “subcortex,”
Implanted since your youth.
That’s why you hide in burrows,
Cunning fool, avoiding truth.

Only Spirit’s striving
Can slay this creeping dread,
And lies that cut the ear
Must also be laid dead.

Fear is built on falsehood,
The world is thick with lies.
Cast off its iron shackles,
Or vanish where it lies.

Here fear kills like ******,
A long-enduring scourge;
It’s worse than any gallows,
For all are under its dirge.

Inflaming fear’s the engine
Of Hell’s oppressive sway,
A single cruel motion
And all are lost in fray.

Fear is foul to thought,
It cannot coexist;
No longer men, but numbers,
The world dissolves to mist.

For everything around you
Is horror under law,
Stock courage, strike the dungeon,
And blast the tyrant raw.

Seek comrades for the battle,
Those who will stand and fight —
The lonely souls succumb
To fear’s enslaving might.

The path will be demanding,
But none exists instead;
The world is steeped in filth,
Its ruler dreams of dread.

Madness fuels the fascists,
It kills with chilling fear;
Cynicism reigns unbridled,
Shame has disappeared here.

Step out of idle chambers,
Lest you be cut and slain.
Only through the struggle
Will your eternal soul remain.

Ignore all false advisers,
Or vanish in their snare;
Only in combat’s crucible
Is the soul freed from despair.



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




Fear sits deep, but Spirit strikes,
The tyrant falls, the courage spikes.
Fight now, or rot beneath the lies —
The soul survives where darkness dies.



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




Fear

Fear dissolves where Spirit dares,
The soul ignites, the tyrant flares.



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



Souls and Corpses

The fall has reached its bitter end:
Fear and dullness break the thread.
The remnants of the wise despair,
No world remains — just acrid dead.

Total lies, fascist might
Crush all beneath their sway —
CowID’s example, cruel wars,
The fools absorb the shameful fray.

The beasts will teach them wicked things,
And idiots cry, “Attack! Advance!”
Perverse delight their horror brings —
No nation here, but dumb mob’s dance.

Genocide has spanned the ages,
Corruption sinks yet lower still.
Those once fools are now debased,
Among the wild herd, reason chills.

The sane are seen as “psychos” here,
In this pitiful zoo of the world,
Where fear, dullness, lies combine
Like triple evils harshly hurled.

The fall has reached its bitter end —
And all may perish, sun and earth;
Only the Pure Spirit must be saved,
More precious than corrupt flesh’s worth.

Spirit and Mind: the primal source,
Declared at war by soulless fiends.
Save not our corpses from their fate —
Only the Pure Spirit redeems.

Send the fools straight down to Hell,
Traitors and wretches, side by side;
If Satan’s their false god, then well,
The Inferno fits them as their guide.



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




The fall is deep, the herd corrupt,
Only Spirit survives the erupt.



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




Fools burn, the Pure Spirit soars,
All else decays on hellish shores.



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



Slave Systems

The Soviet system —
Darkness of enslaved mind;
The themes of pitiful books
Leave sense and truth behind.

Don’t claim it was perfection —
To fools it seemed so bright;
The decent man, with reason,
Hung like a branch in plight.

A single crooked word —
And they’d saw the limb away;
Slavery returns anew,
A lesson missed today.

The fools still worship feudal
Or any other chain;
They see no fascism here,
Only ignorance and pain.

Worldwide fascism reigns,
A global genocide;
The blood of sages freezes
At war, CowID’s guide.

Systems change, yet slavery
Remains throughout the lands;
The fools are blind and voiceless,
Their minds mere empty sands.

The creatures pour their *******
To choke the thinking mind;
No use for wisdom there —
Oppress the few, leave all behind.

The system’s primal task
Is to suppress the light;
A little luck remains
If we expose some night.

To gather and to fight —
Their chance is slim, but true;
For most are cursed and twisted,
And homeland is but smoke’s hue.

Herds, not nations —
Goats lead sheep to slaughter;
This ****** fascism rules,
The world’s a burning altar.



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




Systems change, yet chains remain,
The herd is blind, the mind in pain.



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




Fools obey, the tyrants thrive,
Only Spirit fights to survive.



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



Unseen, Unyielding

Unseen, unyielding,
Dulling spreads its sway.
Few remain incorruptible —
No people, just weak clay.

CREATURES rule this world.
They need a SERVILE throng —
Spiritless, foolish, empty,
Their food and prey lifelong.

Both hunter and the morsel,
Almost perfected plan.
How many brave and clever?
Thousands? Tens of thousands? Here — the ban.

To break the bottom remains —
A Camp is built, worldwide.
Red Cross on white flags flies —
Those with thought have lost their guide.

Here friendship dies. Their “healing,”
Like wars of old,
Is the best way to destroy
And pierce the bottom cold.

To the Concentration Camp
Few falls remain for us.
Hold on, comrade, just a bit,
Lest rotted madhouse combust.

The Camp — Death: “a massive choice”?!
Freedom to choose? Mere jest!
Like fish confined in ponds,
Your choice is less than the rest.

To frighten and deceive — the task,
A method to build the dread
Of the “new world.” Only luck
Will guide you through the webs they spread.

Mechanisms of dulling,
Paths to **** the soul,
Decay amplified, lies rampant,
Brutal tricks to crush the whole.

Unseen, unyielding,
Cataclysms near arrive:
To build a Camp is folly —
In dust, all fools will dive.



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




Dulling spreads, the herd obeys,
Fight or rot in cunning ways.



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




The tyrant’s trap dissolves in flame,
Only Spirit rises — all else, to shame.



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



Figure Skating

“Figure skating” —
A torment for the crowd:
Officials — hollow FIGURES,
From culture far removed and proud.

Vile and greedy creatures,
Their thoughts all about gain;
Anything else is blocked or lied,
Their presence only pain.

They’ll crush all who are honest,
Those ***** in their chairs,
Sticking out between the glasses,
Hands like nets — beware.

Kickbacks, slanders rampant,
The honest are “greeted” cold;
They’ll rid themselves of challengers,
With “care for children” sold.

The beasts steal boldly, lying
Relentless, steadfast, strong;
Politicians “up above,”
A conveyor feeding wrong.

Corruption set in motion,
Extortion tripled wide;
A vicious system thrives,
While silent crowds abide.

They only watch the figures,
Knees, whispers, pointless shows;
The artists-politicians prance,
The bureaucrats nobody knows.

“Figure skating” —
The torment drags along,
If muteness reigns completely,
The crowd remains the throng.

Those who resist are few,
The rest like tiny parts,
Endure the system silently,
Hoping scraps fill their hearts.

The leftovers and remnants,
The scraps of greedy beasts;
Question: where is Culture?
Gone to Hell — Evil’s feast!



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




Officials dance, the people bow,
Culture dies, the beasts take vow.



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




Greed and lies perform their show,
Only Spirit breaks the wretched flow.



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




So-Called “Growing Up,” or “Like Everyone Else”

Where is the boy who strove
For Light, so crystal clear?
In vile Hell he stumbled, broke:
Became “like all” — a wretched smear.

That “like all” as guarantee
Kills Spirit and the Mind.
Without reason, blindly free,
Advancement comes, misaligned.

Through traps that fools call “life” he moves,
Only Spirit’s thread so fine
Shows the steps that Hell approves,
Mind serves Spirit, measures line.

Among the “like all” — tread with care,
They’ll trample you in an instant.
Waste words with fools — beware!
Only worms consume your distance.

They believe in total lies,
Serving Satan, ever true.
Falsehood limitless, unwise,
Yet the herd obeys the skew.

Spirit and Mind — oppose the slime
Of Hell’s dull fools; to see
Requires courage, subtle line,
Daring, intellect, and glee.

Destroying them is the goal
Of creatures ruling Hell’s domain.
And countless triumphs take their toll:
Few remain untainted, sane.

Where is the boy who sought the Light,
So pure, unbroken, crystal bright?
To vile creatures he has sold,
And like their kind, became impure, cold.



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




Spirit lost, the herd prevails,
Only the daring break their jails.



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




The boy sold out, the Light decayed,
Yet Spirit fights where worms have strayed.



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



The End of History

A goblin hunched — crushed
By the futile weight of strife.
Like a camel, he stores lies
Upon his back for life.

Each day blaming, raging,
Fretting over neighbors near,
Dragging treasure underground,
Without regret or fear.

All for future riches,
While the goblin in his chains
Sees only the vampire,
Scanning distant plains.

Control of vampires,
The “masses” ever fools.
And doom creeps close —
Thus ends the history rules.

Be goblin, vampire,
Or a foolish, sold-out brute —
You are useless on this Earth,
Drowning in total pursuit.

Evil flows through goblins,
Once the herd is subdued;
A goblin slays another
More often than vampires drink blood.

Control the vampire
Is simple — lies each day,
Feed them rot and putridness,
To weaken minds and sway.

Fear is vital — fascism
Permanent in sight.
Such is the world of sold-out fools,
Before the final night.

The End approaches —
Preordained for slaves in line;
Reason and honor banished,
Negative selection signs.

If you’re ****, vampire, thief,
The road is up for vice,
The honest only sink below,
The world pays the price.

A Global Cataclysm waits
For obedience to the dark,
Fascism, lawless chaos,
Burning all slime to spark.



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




Goblin rules, the masses bow,
Only Spirit fights, the rest, laid low.



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




Evil peaks, the herd obeys,
Spirit survives the final blaze.



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



The Soap Bubble of So-Called “Spirituality”

Ego concentrated
In the bubble of “herbivory” —
That “spiritual” LEGO,
Amid omnivorous depravity.

In this insane little world
It counts for very small.
Much cheese lies in mousetraps,
They’ll trap us all.

They make a refuge
From everything — even “nirvana” pretend.
The ordinary world a pasture,
Where only sheep ascend.

Sheep aren’t few,
Fake spirituality mows them down.
To keep the soul from vanishing,
Ask your own questions, search the ground.

Find your own answers —
Deception thrives in the lands.
Or the song is sung for you —
And you too become their brand.

Destroy ego with Awareness —
Within alone this Flame burns.
Not by torment or dogma,
Spark with us — the Spirit turns.

Find the Spark, ignite the Flame —
Suddenly Consciousness is clear:
Behold the Banner of Spirituality,
A Fire divine, a beacon near.

The divine Spark for Fire,
Spirithood ablaze with might.
Unclear to the sheep —
Only STUPIDITY and SIN in sight.



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




Ego trapped, the sheep obey,
Only Flame of Spirit lights the way.



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




The Spark ignites, the false world falls,
Spirit alone survives the calls.



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



The Scariest Enemy

Fools — the enemy.
None scarier exist.
Lies and lashes,
Together, savage mist.

Lies matter most, for hitting
One at a time is small.
Bold, stupid falsehoods strike
The world, encompassing all.

CowID revealed
The measure of deceit.
“SPID” was just a warm-up,
The Camp lay discreet.

Digital, dull —
Humans like cattle herd,
In mobs, lies sweep some away,
A new method to **** conferred.

Nonhumans wield the power,
Lies their weapon clear.
The way to not perish —
Crush falsehoods, every moment near.



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




Fools strike first, lies reign,
Only Spirit fights the chain.



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




Deceit spreads, the herd obeys,
Truth survives the final blaze.



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



The Mad Gallop

“Ride faster, fleeting Time!
Under this new armor I suffocate!
Death, when we arrive, will hold the stirrup, —
I’ll wipe the tear, lift the visor, unafraid.”
— Mikhail Lermontov, The Captive Knight, 1840


Ride faster, fleeting Time!
Stirrup, saddle — childish games,
The wretched human tribe decays,
Horses of old, now skipping frames.

They gallop in place, calling progress,
Minds crushed in the race through deceit.
Lermontov, Pushkin, and other jesters
Barely mirror the world’s defeat.

Horse — a skipping rope: the game’s the same.
Blood flows like water — only TNT can write!
Few humans remain, while sold-out beasts
With traitor, thief, and fool unite.

Nine-tenths — even Time reeks foul!
Media nauseates, suffocates the soul.
The skipping rope shreds — the burden gone,
Mad, relentless gallop of the whole.

Step out — save your soul.
The gallop of Time is nearly spent!
Listen always to intuition,
Then the stench won’t strike your intent.



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




The herd races blind, lies in tow,
Spirit alone rides, strikes the foe.



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




Time flies mad, the world decays,
Only Spirit survives the blaze.



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



Not-So-Small Forces?

Better send it down the tube!
When fools surround the mindless slave,
You can’t explain; you can’t unite
With anyone — the world’s a grave.

Pointless work will devour you —
Moloch feasts on obedient fools.
You’ll rot as a spiritless idiot,
Bound by all their cruel rules.

But there’s a pipe, enormous —
Called “creativity” by some.
You won’t reach paradise there,
But the soul may find freedom’s drum.

Unlike the fools around you,
There’s something rare to grasp.
Create only what is dear,
For yourself — not the mass.

If the herd likes it, you die ugly,
Lost among the mindless throng.
To fight with poetry? Yes —
A path for those whose verse is strong.

But it counts only for you,
Only if you find it dear.
Not fighting, really —
Dying in struggle, silent, severe.

Reaching those who need it
Is blocked by total lies.
Which door to knock upon?
Lost when your mind defies.

Your strength and thought directed
Along the fools’ accustomed track
Will lead only to the Abyss,
Not back — there’s no turning back.



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




Tube or Abyss, fools all around,
Only Spirit’s fire breaks the bound.



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




Through lies, the path is dark and deep,
Spirit alone the vigil keeps.



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



The Worldwide Kennel

Dogs bark beyond the window,
Ruling over fragile sleep.
How to be a wretched, foolish dog,
To fit in this madhouse deep?

Many biped dogs are here,
Yet pride and wildness forbid
Acknowledging the truth — instead
They serve the filth, the foul, the squid.

Believing the world is free —
Not a kennel, not a pen.
Not orphaned, not weak — just lost,
When you see the rot, you’ll see when.

Life here vanished long ago
(Only imitation remains, a whim).
Go only INWARD, seek the Light,
Answers lie within the dim.

The one answer — you are Pure Spirit:
No place among dogs and slaves
Of the Eternal Darkness. Minds
By that Darkness long enslaved.

The path is hard — do not dawdle,
Do not open your soul to the dogs.
They’ll tear you apart in hunger,
Leaving only bones for master’s logs.

The Kennel will be ruined by cataclysm,
Sweeping away global fascism,
Always present, changing flags
And signs. Not a dog — the Darkness’s schism.

How to be a wretched, foolish dog?
Impossible! Delay not your quest.
Only in the Light we’ll find life,
When we depart from the Kennel’s nest.

From the Plan of Canine Filth,
Where neither Honor nor Mind exist,
Counting the majority who approve
The Triumph of Evil persists.



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




Dogs rule, fools obey,
Only Spirit lights the way.



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




The Kennel burns, fascism dies,
Only the Pure Spirit flies.



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


Smear…

“Yes, smear the world, yes, with the blood of veins,
Forget disease, forget dreams, forget the chains,
And die from age to age
On the blue hands of the easel stage.”
— Leonid Gubanov, Polina, 1963


Smearing is no longer enough —
Now it’s time to destroy.
Your blood will soak the fat,
No one cares; they’ll enjoy.

The fat ******* doesn’t mind
Your flight, your work, your art.
Serve them only a joke,
Or a laugh, a comic part.

Give them money,
A pound of health for all.
Give the ladies earrings —
No other theme survives the hall.

The world’s long gone insane,
Conquered by the FILTHY one.
It’s not just sarcasm —
Spirit here is undone.

Where Spirit is scarce,
Blood flows like water.
“Become a dung fly here,
Forever in this slaughter.”

So shouts the fascist lie,
Though not openly, direct.
The smart are already culled,
Poison seeps everywhere, infect.

Lies are venom,
Poison in food and drink.
The swarm of inhuman beasts
Pushes the world to the brink.

A global death camp
Is no longer far away.
On the fascist flag
A new nightmare holds sway.

The flag is already white,
Red cross upon its face.
In the past — executions,
Now injections take their place.

Smearing is no longer enough —
Call the sun to strike,
To burn the vermin alive,
And rid the world alike.

Though we may all perish,
Yet Spirit will survive.
Thus we reach Paradise —
For those neither blind nor deaf.



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



Smear no more — destroy!
Sun strikes, Spirit survives.



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




Blood and sun ignite the skies,
Only the Pure Spirit flies.



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



Futile Labor

Forward, toward the end of work —
There are other things to do.
One care alone matters —
Bite the bit, see it through.

And new projects rise,
Completely futile, all,
Without money, without respect…
Yet only they hold the call.

What you deem precious
For yourself, for your mind,
Turns your gaze inward,
Buddhism’s truth to find.

Within, the answers wait.
Outside, lies overflow.
Within! The dwelling of Light!
To Light alone, serve, and grow.

When all projects are finished,
You’ll leave Hell behind.
From Death, only respect counts
If malice is not in mind.

Death weighs your achievements,
And the heat you’ve lived by,
Not the opinions of the crowd —
Those vanish, fade, and die.

Futile labor holds esteem
If its intensity is high.
The idiot cannot know it —
Only lies pile up and lie.

If you do not lie — only for a few
Will “sorrowful labor” aid,
In those who hold the Light,
Among Judas lies unafraid.



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




Futile work, only the brave
Will save the Spirit from the grave.



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




Labor in vain burns the weak,
Only the Pure Spirit speaks.



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



The Toil

Pack tight, prepare for all,
Then march into the war.
And count the pens and fences
As a cradle — locked, no more!

Serfdom reigns everywhere,
Though it shifts its form each day.
Selling ******* spew their lies,
Turning life to naught, decay.

“Education” dulls the mind,
School — a circus, hollow, base.
Spirit and thought dissolve,
Propaganda poisons the place.

Only junkies of lies
Here believe the venom’s call.
They name this ****** fascism
“Special ops” — a cunning thrall.

Pack tight, prepare for all,
Then march into the fight:
Satan is the highest god,
Hell is close, just out of sight.

Beasts herd the sheep along,
Rows grow neat, aligned, and long.
No oil here — lies will fry them all
In Hell’s pens, where the toilers fall.

Here, the toil is Hell’s pens,
Awaiting all the sheep for years.
Not a lack of vicious fiends —
As always, plenty prowls and sneers.



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




Herded, bound, the sheep march on,
Hell awaits when light is gone.



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




Herded tight, the sheep march blind,
Hell awaits — leave fear behind.



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



Variability

City neurotics —
You are the last stronghold
Of variations, though hysteria
Runs rampant. The dull fool

Feeds only on lies, self-satisfied —
This rabble cannot be saved.
Your path is harsh, full of pain —
Yet to variations you must go,

Or the world controlled by Evil
Will perish in its grip.
God’s spark won’t vanish —
Only on the path where Light is king.

A choice on the Path — a task
For all of us to tackle now.
Any variant is a blessing:
Not accessible to the herd.

Apart from beasts — no other way
To walk this road.
Otherwise, you’ll reach the madhouse,
Universal, sprawling, for all.

The global madhouse is built
By fools of every kind.
Total lies multiply —
Bones cannot then be gathered.

Variations are life itself —
Remember this and march ahead!
On the path, stupid slugs crawl.
With them — you’re madness’ thread.



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




Be the spark, break the herd,
Else madness swallows the world.



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



Get Wise — or Die!

Is getting wise even possible?
Hardly — it’s the path
Of the few: anxiety
And a fog of lies.

CREATURES press down —
The submissive herd feeds.
They **** reason
Through generations. Stuck,

If you trust the CREATURE,
Fear blinds your eyes.
You seem to have a target
In the shooting range.

Think the body matters most? —
You’re done for!
Dream and fantasize? —
Just a tiny cog.

Cast off the lies,
And awaken your instinct —
Even a stream of reason
Must survive in Hell.

Getting wise is brutally hard,
Preserving reason — tougher still.
They lie without shame,
Killing with purpose.

We must get wise —
Or face disgrace and death.
So live with effort,
Sorting Hell’s whirl

Into neat shelves,
To grasp its full essence.
But don’t stare too long —
Terror is coming!



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




Awake, see truth, resist —
Or Hell devours, and reason dies.



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



The Filth of Trifles

An ostrich’s mess
Amid a heap of lies —
A den of fools
In a world of ties.

Countless petty things.
Keep your mind, your honor,
Your conscience safe,
For enemies encircle.

The main foe — the fool.
The world works this way —
A fool will ruin you,
Tugging, tearing away.

They tug everywhere,
With trifles in the reins.
If many of them,
Endure the filth — you’ll crack.

Don’t endure, move forth,
Alone, head held high.
Expect no one —
An idiot walks beside.

Few are the others —
Sensitive, wise.
A vile fool
Will crush you with trifles.



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




Fools tug, grind, destroy —
Guard your mind, march alone!



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



Zoo of Fools

Intellect at zero,
Emotions raging wild.
In this mire, the world’s a hero
Of madness, undefiled.

All here is futile,
To shake this Hell won’t aid.
Crying won’t revile it—
The zoo of flesh is laid.

And yet it’s robust—
It cures the inhuman crew.
A horde of false doctors
Ensures the suffering’s due.

Poison with injections—
The finest way to heal.
And fascist filth next
Will grind them under heel.

For grinding is required
To keep “order” tight.
Ensuring success
For fools bred to the fight.

Production flows
In ceaseless streams of vice.
This is Evil’s triumph,
A lesson to the wise.

To know your place,
And not rebel, my friend.
They churn the Lies on mass
To break the clever mind.

The wise feel nausea here,
Though the farce seems fun.
This savage mixture
Of fake worlds, all one.

Shame, deceit, oblivion—
Pastures for the herd.
And riches here are souls
That in trade are stirred.

They sell them—and the world of flesh
Leads all to labor’s grip.
This labor builds Hell
Till time itself will slip.

A vile master rules,
Genocide enshrined.
But soon the zoo will burn,
The tyrant’s rule confined.

The sun shines: the order’s set—
To burn the rotting stumps.
Yet these stumps “live on,”
Selling souls for lumps.

The box of lies is priced
For an immortal spark.
War nears its final act—
Strike now, before the dark.

Only in battle with Evil
Can you save your soul.
Otherwise you’ll rot
As just another pole.



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




Burn the zoo, smash the lies!
Only courage saves the wise.



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



*******

Courage is wasted
If you are an ***.
Under fascist filth
You’ll drown, alas.

Souls left untouched,
Yet in Hell you’ll sink.
Feelings ignored,
The abyss deeper than you think.

Here you’re only trash,
Pulled to the bottom, all.
Cowards and fools
Answer Evil’s call.

Fear and betrayal
Walk hand in hand.
Soon they’ll destroy
Every innocent strand.

Thus the coward—
The worst of foes.
So too the idiots—
Chains the world imposes.

You’re a coward by fear,
Trapped since your youth.
In this Hell the law
Is a scaffold of truth.

Hypocrisy runs
Through your bloodline thick.
Living decay,
A life of tricks.

Love of “order,”
Blind to the law.
This vile trick
Throws reason out the door.

Adaptation becomes
Your only plan.
Honor decays
To survive in this land.

Life in fascist stink—
A paradox grim.
If you fear and follow,
You’re just part of the whim.

From you they mold
Monsters of filth.
Reason blinded,
All becomes their guilt.

But foul monsters
Will not long survive.
The Sun will purge,
And only the Spirit thrive.

The mire will evaporate,
Saving the souls within.
Prepare for battle—
The Day of Judgement begins.

All masks are dropped,
Evil’s servants fall.
If blind and dull,
You’ll hear no call.



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




Cowards breed the worst!
Stand fierce—or you’re cursed.



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



Fear

Fear sits deep in the mind,
Since childhood it was sown.
So you hide, cunning, confined,
By terror overgrown.

Only Spirit’s striving
Can strike fear down.
Lies that wound the ear
Can also drown.

Fear is built on lies,
Everywhere deceit.
Break its chains
Or face defeat.

Here fear is ******,
A genocide long.
Fear surpasses the axe,
As it infects the throng.

Spreading terror
Is Hell’s main plan.
With one swift blow,
Madness grips the land.

Fear repels thought,
With reason it collides.
Not humans—numbers,
Not a world—but smokes and tides.

When all is surrounded
By the fascist’s dread,
Gather courage
And blow this Hell to shred.

Seek comrades
To fight alongside you.
The lone warrior
Faces fate true.

Those discontented,
Who’ve overcome their fear,
Will find Freedom’s spark
Amidst the scaffold here.

The path is arduous,
No other exists.
The world is vile,
Madness persists.

Delirium spread
By global fascism.
Fear kills and terror reigns,
Cynicism with no prism.

Step out from hiding—
Save your eternal soul.
Listen to none—
Or be consumed whole.



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




Strike fear down!
Save your soul or drown.



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



Souls and Corpses

The fall has reached its limit:
Fear and dullness rule the day.
Remnants of wisdom perish
In a world that rots away.

Total lies, fascist powers
Crush all beneath their sway.
CowID is the proof—
Wars where fools obey.

The filth feeds them any nastiness,
And idiots shout, “Attack!”
What brings them joy is evil,
A rabble mindlessly packed.

Genocide through ages flows,
The world grows ever worse.
Those once foolish now are idiots,
The smart—a tragic curse.

In this beastly zoo of life,
Reason is “mad,” they cry.
Fear, dullness, lies—
The triple evil multiplies.

The pure Spirit must be saved,
Above the slavish grime.
Better than enduring the grotesque,
That sinks below the prime.

The Spirit is Reason,
Firstborn in its core.
Declared war by soulless ****,
Victory of filth near shore.

Do not save our corpses—
Only the Spirit pure.
Send fools to Hell—
The road for them is sure.

If Satan seems a god to them,
Hell’s the place for such trash.
Only the pure Spirit rises,
While fools face the crash.



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




Save the Spirit—burn the corpses!
Fools perish, Evil loses.



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



Slave Systems

Soviet chains,
Darkness and rule.
Books of wretches,
Lessons cruel.

Do not lie about greatness,
Fools only see delight.
Decent minds were hanged,
Suspended out of sight.

Other feudal schemes,
Fools take as manna here.
Blind to fascism rising,
The system feeds their fear.

Global slavery persists,
Fools silent, blind, and dumb.
Evil pours false streams
To halt the clever from outcome.

Oppression’s first task:
Crush the minds that shine.
Expose a bit of darkness—
A spark against the design.

Unite and fight—
Few chances exist.
Most are monsters,
The homeland—a mist.

Enclosures, not countries,
Goats led to slaughter,
The world in fascist clutch,
The final law of order.




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




Break the chains, fight the fools!
Slavery rules—but not for all.



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



Unseen, Relentless

Subtle, unyielding,
Dulling of the mind.
Few incorruptible remain—
The rabble, weak, confined.

Monsters rule this world,
Needing servile men.
Spiritless, stupid, meek—
Food and prey for them.

Thousands of brave,
Do they even remain?
Or tens of thousands?
Here is the pit, the bane.

The world builds camps,
Red Cross flags wave.
Those with heads awake
Face no cure, only grave.

Freedom’s a farce,
Choice a mockery there.
To frighten and deceive
Is Evil’s careful snare.

The mechanism of dulling,
Paths to **** the soul,
Decay and lies reinforced,
Brutal power’s goal.

Unseen, relentless,
Cataclysms draw near.
Building the camp is foolish—
All will burn in fear.



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




Cunning fades, fear spreads—
Resist or burn among the dead.



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



Figure Skating

“Figure skating”—
Torture for the crowd.
Officials—mere figures,
Greedy, corrupt, and proud.

All their thoughts on profit,
Other values lie.
Honest ones are crushed
By suits that pierce the sky.

Kickbacks, slander,
Honest are dismissed.
“Caring for children”
Masks thefts that persist.

Political machine,
Corruption stacked high.
The spectators silent,
Watching the lie pass by.

The stage is a farce,
The system designed to cheat.
Only a few resist,
Most swallowed by deceit.

Where is Culture?
Trampled under greed.
Hell of art and power,
All else reduced to need.



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




Expose the fraud!
Culture dies under the suits.



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



“Growing Up,” or “Like Everyone Else”

Where is the boy who sought
The Light, crystal-clear and pure?
In this vile Hell he stumbled,
“Like everyone else”—he’s obscure.

“Like everyone else” kills the Spirit,
Destroys the mind at birth.
The mind becomes mere torture
In the randomness of Earth.

Through snares called life,
Fools stumble blind.
Only the Spirit’s fine thread
Shows steps for the kind.

Going among “like everyone else”
Is dangerous—trampled fast.
Talk to fools in vain,
And worms will gnaw at last.

Blind to total lies,
Fools serve the Devil’s scheme.
The herd submits
To falsehoods extreme.

Spirit and Mind—
Oppose Hell’s corruption.
Only those who keep daring
Can resist the abduction.

The boy who sought the Light,
Pure as dawn—
Sold to vile monsters,
Now unclean, withdrawn.



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




Keep your Spirit pure!
“Like everyone else” is death.



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



End of History

Hunched goblin, crushed
By futile striving’s weight.
Burdened with lies,
Every day he seals his fate.

Blaming neighbors,
In fear he cowers still.
In dungeon hoarding gold,
Feeding greed’s dark will.

Management of vampires,
Masses fools by design.
The end sneaks close—
History’s final line.

If goblin or vampire,
Or a corrupt brute,
You’re useless on this Earth,
Drowning in Evil’s root.

Through goblins Evil spreads,
One kills the other first.
Management’s simple—
Lie more, and quench your thirst.

Fear paramount,
Fascism permanent.
This world of fools
Reaches its full extent.

Near the finish,
End approaches fast.
In chains of slavery,
Reason and honor cast.

Negative selection:
If scoundrel, thief, or ghoul,
“Up” is their road,
While only the lowest mind the rule.

A World Cataclysm waits
For submission to Dark,
When only honest suffer—
They’ll burn this slime apart.



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




Lies reign, goblins rule—
Fight Spirit or perish.



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



The Soap Bubble of So-Called “Spirituality”

Ego concentrates
In the bubble of “herbivory”—
This “spiritual” LEGO
On the backdrop of omnivory.

In this tiny mad world
It holds very little weight.
Many traps of cheese lie there,
A snare for any soul to bait.

The world offers refuge from all,
Even from so-called “nirvana.”
The usual world a grazing field,
Where sheep wander, soft and pander.

Not few are the sheep,
False spirituality cuts them down.
To save your soul,
Ask your own questions, and own the crown.

Ego crushed by Awareness—
Inside burns the Flame.
Not through dogma or torment,
The spark ignites the claim.

Find this spark and light the fire—
Consciousness purified at once:
Here is the banner of Spirituality,
The true path of the Sun’s response.

God’s spark for the Fire,
Spirituality aflame.
Unknown to the sheep,
Only STUPIDITY remains to blame.



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




Find the spark, light the Flame!
Ego crushed—Spirit remains.



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



The Most Terrible Enemy

Fools are the enemies.
No one more severe.
Lies and whips together—
A wild, twisted fear.

Lies are worse than beating,
For one by one, it’s weak.
To brazenly, blindly lie
To the world and all you seek.

CowID showed the measure
Of lies poured into life.
SPID was only practice,
The camp not far from strife.

Digital, dull—they’ll be like cattle,
Humans herded, truth erased.
Sending them off,
Evil ways embraced.

Inhumans hold the power,
Lies their sharpened weapon.
To survive, you must destroy lies
Every second, without exemption.



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




Lies are weapons—
Destroy them or perish.



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



The Mad Gallop

“Ride faster, fleeting time!
Under new armor I suffocate!
Death, when we arrive, will hold my stirrup—
I’ll tear the visor from my face.”


Ride faster, fleeting time!
Stirrup and saddle—childish play.
The human wretched tribe perishes,
Horses now are jump ropes of the day.

They jump in place, calling it progress,
Minds slaughtered through deceit.
Lermontov, Pushkin, and other clowns
Reflect the world’s poor sheet.

Horse is a jump rope: different layout.
Blood like water—written only in TNT!
Few humans remain, while vile betrayers,
Thieves, and fools consume the rest.

Nine-tenths of time stinks!
Media nauseates to tears.
Shredded jump rope—burden gone
Of mad, relentless races through years.

Step out, save your soul.
Time’s gallop is almost through.
Listen only to intuition—
The stench won’t sting you then.



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




Mad gallop! Time devours—
Step aside or be lost.



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



Not Small Forces?

Send it down the pipe!
When fools surround,
A mindless slave
Cannot be found.

Working for cash,
Amid Satanic schemes—
Futile labor will consume you,
Your Spirit suffocates in these dreams.

But there’s the great pipe—
Called Creativity there.
You won’t reach paradise,
But you can destroy despair.

For the soul of fools
There is little concern.
Create what is dear,
For yourself—their scorn, spurn.

Poetry to fight?
Yes, the path of fierce verse.
It counts only for you,
Death in the struggle, unrehearsed.

To reach the few,
Problems block the door.
Point your mind and force
Along the fools’ worn floor—
And reach only the abyss.



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




Create for yourself!
Fools cannot grasp your flame.




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



The Global Kennel

Dogs bark outside the window,
Ruling over sensitive dreams.
How to become a stupid dog
To fit into this insane scheme?

Many two-legged dogs exist,
Yet they cannot admit
Their wild pride, so
They serve the filth, counterfeit.

They claim the world is free—
It’s a kennel, not a land.
You are foreign here,
Life vanished like sand.

Only go inward,
Seek the Light, the truth.
The answer: you are the pure Spirit,
Not in the pack’s uncouth booth.

The path is not easy—
Do not reveal your soul.
They will tear you apart,
Bones only for the master’s goal.

Cataclysm will destroy the kennel,
Wiping fascism from the globe,
Changing flags and signs—
Not a dog, but an enemy of the dark.



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




Be the Spirit—
Not a dog of the Kennel.



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



To Paint…

“Yes, paint the world, yes, with blood of veins,
Forget disease, forget dreams, vows,
And die from age to age
On the blue hands of the easel.”


Painting is not enough—
We must destroy.
Blood soaks the fat,
No one cares, enjoy.

Feed them jokes, anecdotes,
Give money, health to all.
For women, some earrings—
Nothing more, their call.

The world drowned in madness,
Defeated by vile filth.
Spirit departs the world,
Truth drowned in guilt.

If Spirit is scarce,
Blood flows like water.
“Become a dung fly
Here forever” — the law of slaughter.

Fascism drones its lies,
Smart ones few, truth pierced.
Poison in water, food—
Evil drives the world to dirt.

World concentration camp
Not far from now.
Under fascist flag,
New horror, new blow.

Paint no more—
Summon the Sun’s fire
To burn the ****,
And save the Spirit entire.



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




Burn the ****!
Save the Spirit!



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



Futile Labor

Forward, to the end of work—
There are other tasks to tend.
One concern matters most—
Bite the bit and apprehend.

New projects come,
Completely futile, indeed.
No money, no respect…
Yet these alone are the creed.

What’s precious is what you value
As highest for yourself.
Thus your gaze turns inward,
Buddhism as your wealth.

Inside you’ll find the answers.
Outside, lies abound.
Inside! The Abode of Light!!!
Serve only Light, be sound.

Completing all projects,
You die, leaving Hell behind.
From Death only respect counts
When no foulness clouds the mind.

Death weighs achievements,
And the intensity lived.
The crowd’s opinions? Ignore—
They vanish, so the spirit survived.

Futile labor is honored
If fervent heat burns within.
Not found in fools—
Only lies, poisonous din.

Only for the few,
Grieving labor helps.
In whom Light shines,
Not deluded among deceitful steps.



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




Futile labor counts
Only for the soul that burns.



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



The Toil

Toil fully, then march to war,
Call pens a cradle—locked tight!
Serfdom everywhere,
Yet its shape shifts in the night.

Vile traitors lie,
Turning the world to nothing.
“Education” dulls the mind,
Learning—propaganda stuffing.

Only addicts of falsehood
Believe this venom here.
They call the filthy fascism
A “special operation” near.

Toil fully, then march to war—
Satan reigns supreme; Hell is close.
The beasts lead the sheep,
Rows tight, lined, verbose.

No oil—lies will fry all,
In that Hell at the end of the toil.
The toil—the herds of Hell,
Sheep awaited long in spoil.

Few uncorrupted remain,
Yet the swarms of traitors are many.



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




Toil, march, survive—
Hell awaits the flock.



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



Variability

City neurotics—
You alone are the bastion
Of variation, though hysteria
Rules among the dull and crass.

They eat only lies, content with themselves.
This mob cannot be saved.
Your path is hard, pain abundant,
Yet to variations, you must be braved.

Otherwise, the world
Will be lost to Evil’s reign.
The divine spark won’t vanish
Along the path where Light is the chain.

A variant in the Path—
A task to be solved by all.
Any variant is fortune:
Not accessible to the thrall.

Separate from the cattle—
Impossible to move.
Else only to global madness,
Where everyone falls in the groove.

The worldwide madhouse is built
By idiots of every kind.
Total lies multiply—
Bones cannot be gathered in time.

Variations are life itself—
Remember, and press forward!
On the path, the slimy fools,
With them—you’re the mad lord.



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




Variations are life—
Follow the path, survive.



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



Grow Wiser—or Die!

Is it possible to grow wise?
Hardly—the path for the few.
Anxiety and lies abound,
The fog of deceit in view.

Beasts press in—
The submissive masses consume.
Reason killed in generations,
Falling for their doom.

Trust the beast,
Fear blinds your eyes.
Chasing goals,
Small cogs in machine-like ties.

Respect bodies as the highest?
You are lost, vanished.
Dreams and visions?
Like a tiny *****, banished.

Reject lies, awaken intuition,
Keep even a trickle of reason.
Growing wise is extremely hard,
They lie to **** every season.

Grow wiser we must—
Or shame and death await.
Live under strain,
Catalog Hell’s cruel state.



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




Grow wise or die—
Keep reason’s spark alive.



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



The Vileness of Small Things

Straw marriage
Amid heaps of lies—
A den of fools
In a world with chains.

Countless petty things.
Among them, honor, mind, and soul,
Keep them safe,
For enemies surround the whole.

The main enemy is the fool.
The world is built this way—
A fool destroys you,
Pulls at you, every day.

Pulling you everywhere,
With petty reins,
If many surround you,
Tolerate their filth—lose your mind.

Do not tolerate—go forward alone.
Wait for none—idiot beside you.
Few are others—
Sensitive, wise.
The vile idiot kills
With petty little lies.



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




Fools destroy with small things—
Step aside, protect your mind.



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



Fear

Fear sits deep in the “subcortex,”
Implanted since your earliest days.
That’s why you hide in your burrow,
Clever, sly, in cunning ways.

Only by Spirit’s striving
Can fear be destroyed,
And lies that wound the ear
Also be fully voided.

Fear is founded on falsehood.
Lies are everywhere.
Cast off its chains,
Or you will perish there.

Killing with fear—
A centuries-old genocide.
Fear’s better than the scaffold
Once it sits in everyone inside.

Fear-mongering is
The essence of Hell.
With a single stroke,
All are driven to delirium’s spell.

Fear clashes with thought,
It cannot coexist.
No longer human—just numbers,
No world—just smoke amidst.

Where horror surrounds all
By fascist’s crushing hand,
Arm yourself with courage,
And explode this Hell’s command.

Seek comrades
To fight by your side—
Lonely warriors
Do not submit to slave-like pride.

Those dissatisfied,
Who have cast off fear,
Only so can you gain
Freedom amid the scaffold near.

The path will be hard,
No other way exists—
A world thoroughly vile
Ruled by madness, false and ******.

Madness fanned by
Global fascism’s hand,
Humans destroyed
By fear and cynicism’s brand.

Cynicism unchecked,
Shame fully lost.
Step out of your chambers—
Or be the next cost.

Only in battle
Will you save your eternal soul.
Listen to none—
Or be swallowed whole.



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




Fear rules? Fight!
Only courage saves the soul.



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



Souls and Corpses

The fall has reached its limit:
Fear, dullness—completely gone.
The remnants of the wise perish
In grief—the world, a bitter ****.

Total lies, fascist power
Crushed all—CowID’s a sign.
Petty wars, fools perceive all,
Endless shame by design.

Beasts instill any filth,
And idiots cry “Charge! Advance!”
Their ******* brings them joy:
No people—just idiotic stench.

Genocide has raged for ages—
Everything grows crueler still.
Those once fools,
Now mere idiots, live by will.

Even a wise man among the herd
Is deemed insane.
In the world’s wretched zoo,
Fear, stupidity, lies—the triad of pain.

The fall is complete—
They will destroy all
Earth and Sun, unless
The Pure Spirit stands tall.

More urgent than enduring
The ugliness beneath the floor:
Spirit = Reason, primal in Spirit.
Declared war upon its core.

By soulless ****
Victory of beasts is near.
Save not our corpses—
Only the Pure Spirit,
And send the fool to Hell.
Yes, the road is straight there,
For traitor too shall dwell.
If Satan is god to them,
Hell fits these corpses well.



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




Save the Spirit—
Corpses are expendable.



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



Slave Systems

The Soviet system—
A darkness of slavery: just see
The meager topics of books…
So do not lie,
That it was excellent—
Excellence for the fool.
A decent man,
With reason, hangs like a twig,
A slight misstep, and the branch
Will snap. Slavery returns,
Another lesson not yet learned.

Fools call new “feudalism” manna,
Blind to the fascism inside.
Global fascism reigns today,
A worldwide genocide.
Blood freezes in the wise,
Example: wars, CowID.

Systems change,
But slavery is eternal.
Fools are blind, silent—
Only nonsense in their minds.

The beasts pour that nonsense,
To halt all thought.
Little use in the wise:
The primary task of the system
Is to oppress the intelligent,
So any exposure of Darkness
Becomes a rare victory.

To unite and resist—
Few chances exist,
Most are vile,
The homeland just smoke.

Enclosures, not countries:
Goats lead sheep
To the slaughter.
Fascism reigns—world doomed.



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




Slave systems endure—
Expose the Darkness.



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



Unseen, Relentless

Subtle, relentless,
Dulling goes on.
Few incorruptible souls—
Not a people, but wretched spawn.

BEASTS rule this world.
They need SERVANTS—
Soulless, stupid, poor,
Useful merely as servants.

They are both prey and hunter,
Almost perfected.
How many wise and brave? Thousands?
Or tens of thousands? Here—the bottom.

The bottom must be pierced—
A camp is built, worldwide.
Red Cross on white flags—
Those with heads surrendered.

Here, “healing”
Like old wars,
Is the best way to exterminate
And reach the bottom through lies.

Very little remains
To fall before the camp.
Hold on, friend, a little longer,
Before the rotten asylum burns.

The camp—death: “so many choices”?
Freedom to choose?
A fish has more freedom
In its pond. Lies and fear—
The one task.

A way to build horror
For a “new world.”
Luck if you penetrate
The mechanism of dulling,
Ways of soul-killing,
Decay’s amplification,
And shameless lies.

Subtle, relentless—
CATASTROPHES are coming:
Building the camp is foolish—
They will grind you to powder.



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




Relentless lies,
Hell’s camp awaits.



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



“Figure Skating”

“Figure skating”—
A torture for the masses:
Officials—mere FIGURES,
Alien to true culture.

Vile and greedy creatures,
All thoughts of profit only.
Everything else is lies, obstacles—
From them, only harm comes.

They roll over the honest,
Those ***** in chairs,
Protruding between glasses,
Hands like nets.

Kickbacks, slander,
The honest—dismissed “with regards”:
They will get rid of these,
Under the guise of “care for children.”

Theft is brisk and bold,
And lies stubbornly told.
Politicians “from above,”
A conveyor belt from bottom to top.

A corrupt system,
Excessive extortion.
Yet the audience is silent:
Just staring at the figures,
The show, the trappings
Of bureaucratic actors.

“Figure skating”—
The torment continues,
While total silence
Makes the fate FATAL.

Few resist.
Most, like particles
Of the system, quietly endure,
Hoping for scraps—
Trifles and leftovers
From greedy beasts.

Question: where is culture?
To hell! — the dictatorship of Evil rules!



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




Figure skating,
The world’s corrupt show—fight within!



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



So-Called “Growing Up”

Where is the boy who reached
For the Light, pure and clear?
In vile Hell he stumbled:
Became “like everyone”—a wretched worm here.

Being “like everyone”
Kills Spirit and Mind.
Without reason, promotion
Becomes agony blind.

Through life’s traps
Fools call it living.
Only Spirit’s finest thread
Points to the steps to take.

To move safely in Hell.
Mind serves only Spirit,
Measuring the path,
But in the “fallen” crowd—shame and fear abound.

Going among “like everyone” is dangerous—
They’ll trample you if you
Waste words on folly.
Only worms consume.

They also believe total lies,
Always serving the Devil.
Lies know no measure,
But herds obey.

Spirit and Mind are different—
The filth of a foolish Hell.
Only those preserving Spirit, Mind, and Boldness
Understand. To purge them is the Beast’s goal.

Few survive without corruption
In this infernal place.
Where is the boy who reached
For the Light, pure and clear?
He sold himself to vile creatures,
And became impure like them.



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




Hold the Spirit—
Don’t become “like everyone.”



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



The End of History

The goblin, hunched, crushed
By pointless toil.
Like a camel, he stores lies in his ****,
Blaming fate each day.

The goblin understands only the ghoul,
Looking far and wide.
Ruling ghouls,
The masses—forever fools.

The apocalypse sneaks to them—
It’s History’s End.
Whether goblin, ghoul,
Or foolish, greedy lackey,
You are useless on Earth,
Sinking in total Evil.

Evil spreads through goblins,
Once the herd submits:
Goblin kills goblin
More often than ghoul drinks blood.

Ghoul management
Is simple—just lies.
More lies each day,
Feed them rot,
To weaken bodies.
Fear is paramount, fascism permanent—
Such is the world of sold fools.

Near the finish,
The end is close.
The slave march predetermined—
Mind and honor expelled.

Negative selection:
If scoundrel, ghoul, thief—
The “up” road is yours;
The bottom is all the mind gets.

World Cataclysm awaits
For submission to Darkness, fascism,
Lawlessness, as only “down”
Is allowed for the honest.
It will burn all slime.



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




Lies rule,
Mind is endangered—resist!



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



The Soap Bubble of So-Called “Spirituality”

Ego concentrated
In the “herbivorous” bubble—
This is “spiritual” LEGO,
Amid a world of omnivorous madness.

It is worth very little,
With traps laid for the naive.
From all of it they build shelters,
Even under so-called “nirvana.”

The ordinary world is a pen—
Sheep graze within.
There are no few sheep,
Fake spirituality cuts them down.

To save your soul,
Ask questions yourself,
Seek answers alone.
Or follow the song—
You’ll become a sheep.

Destroy ego with Awareness—
Inside is the Flame.
Cannot grasp by torment
Or dogma. The spark is with us.

Find this spark,
Light the Flame—
Consciousness instantly clear:
Here is the Banner of Spirituality.

God’s spark for the Fire,
Spirit as a blaze.
Incomprehensible to the sheep.
Only STUPIDITY and sin.



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




Seek the spark—
Light your inner Flame.



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



The Scariest Enemy

Fools are the enemy.
Worse than anything else.
Lies and whips together—
A savage delirium.

Lies matter most,
For beating is singular.
Bold, stupid lying—
To the world and everything.

CowID showed
The measure of lies in the world.
“SPID” was a warm-up.
Camp far away.

Digital, dumb—
Human becomes cattle,
Herded by lies,
Sent away.

Monsters here rule.
Lies are their weapon.
The way to survive:
Destroy lies, every moment.



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




Fools and lies rule—
Crush deceit, save yourself.



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



The Mad Gallop

“Ride faster, fleeting time!
Under new armor I suffocate!
Death, when we arrive, will hold the stirrup—
I’ll wipe the visor, a tear, a fate.”
— M. Lermontov, The Captive Knight, 1840


Ride faster, fleeting time!
Stirrup and saddle—childish games.
The wretched human herd dies—
Horses once, now jump ropes in fashion.

They jump in place, counting as progress,
Minds crushed through deceit.
Lermontov, Pushkin, other scoundrels
Barely reflect the poor world.

Horse becomes jump rope,
Blood flows like water—TNT only!
Few are human, while greedy beasts,
Together with traitor, thief, fool,
Nine-tenths stink even time itself!
Media—vile beyond tears.
The jump rope torn—burden lost
In mad, relentless gallop.

Escape to save your soul.
Little gallop time remains.
Listen always to intuition—
The stench cannot strike your heart.



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




Ride the mad time—
Listen to your soul, survive!



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



Not So Small Forces?

Send them down the tube!
When idiots surround,
A mindless slave
Cannot explain or unite.

Labor in these Satanic schemes—
A pointless endeavor,
It devours you whole:
You’ll become a submissive fool, weak in spirit.

But there is a bigger tube—
They call it creativity.
You won’t reach “paradise,”
But at least the soul won’t fall
Like the idiots’ souls do.

Create only what you love,
And FOR YOURSELF:
If beasts like it,
You’ll perish among them.

To fight with poetry?
A path for the bold verse.
But only you will appreciate it,
Only you will enjoy it.
Not a battle,
But dying in unseen struggle,
For the rare few who need
Your sharp, honest verse.

Reaching them is hard—
The avalanche of total lies blocks the way.
Which door to knock on?
You’ll fail, if your mind and strength
Follow the usual fools’ paths—
Only the Abyss awaits.



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




Create for yourself—
Fight the world unseen.



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



The Global Kennel

Dogs bark outside the window,
Ruling over sensitive dreams.
How to become a wretched, stupid dog
To fit in this madhouse?

Many biped dogs here,
But pride and wildness prevent them
From admitting it,
So the inhuman serve the filth.

They believe the world is free—
Not a kennel, not a pen.
You are alien to them, weak, poor,
Until you see the rot:
Life here vanished long ago,
Only imitation remains.

Go inward, seek the Light,
Answer all questions yourself.
The answer: you are the Pure Spirit,
Not a place among dogs and slaves.

The path is hard—
Don’t expose your soul to the dogs,
Or they’ll tear you,
Leaving only bones on the master’s table.

The Kennel will be destroyed
By cataclysm, sweeping away global fascism,
Changing flags and signs,
For the enemy of Darkness is not a dog.

How to become a wretched, stupid dog?
Impossible! Don’t postpone the search for Light—
Only in it will life endure
When we leave the Dog-Dung Plan,
Where neither Honor nor Mind exists,
Even if most accept Evil’s triumph.



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




Seek the Light—
Never be a dog in Hell.



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



To Paint…

“Yes, paint the world, yes, with vein blood,
Forget disease, dreams, vows,
And die century to century
On the blue hands of the easel.”
— L. Gubanov, Polina, 1963


Painting alone is not enough—
You must destroy.
Your blood soaks the fat,
No matter to the greedy *******.

Give only jokes or anecdotes,
Money, a pound of health to all,
Earrings to the ladies—
No more substance left.

The world is in dementia,
Defeated by the fiend.
It’s not sarcasm—
Spirit is gone from the world.

If Spirit is small,
Blood flows like water.
“Become a dung fly
Here forever”—
Fascism drones on, indirect but firm.

Smart ones are few,
Poison everywhere, lies like plague,
The world pushed to ruin.
Global concentration camp is near,
On the fascist flag,
A new nightmare.

Painting alone is not enough—
Invoke the Sun’s light
To burn the stingers of inhumanity.
Even if all perish,
Spirit will be saved.
Thus Paradise is reached
By those not blind or deaf.



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




Paint, burn, save Spirit—
Even if the world dies.



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



Pointless Labor

Forward, toward the work’s end—
Other things exist.
One concern matters:
You’ll bite the bit
And the new projects,
Fully pointless,
Without money, respect…
Yet only they hold value!

Value what you deem
Most vital for yourself.
Your gaze turns inward,
Embracing Buddhism.

Inside are answers.
Outside, only lies.
Inside! The abode of Light!
Serve only the Light.

Finishing all projects,
You’ll leave Hell behind.
Only respect matters in death
If you were not vile.

Death weighs achievements,
And the intensity with which you lived.
The crowd’s opinion? Forgotten…
Pointless labor is honored,
If it burns with intensity.
None in idiots,
Only piles of toxic lies.

Not lying—helps the few,
Those with Light,
Not boasting among deceit.



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




Pointless labor burns bright—
Save Light within.



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



Strada

Get ground down completely,
Then go to war.
Think pens are freedom?
Cradle—locked!

Serfdom everywhere,
Changing forms only.
Foul, corrupt liars
Turn the world into nothing.

“Education”—dulling the mind,
Learning—a circus:
Mind and Spirit decay,
Propaganda poisons sharply.

Only addicts
Believe such toxic lies.
They call ****** fascism
A special operation, by their lies.

Get ground down completely,
Then go to war:
Satan rules supreme here,
Hell is close—on the path.

The beasts lead the sheep,
Ranks tighten.
No oil—lies will burn all
In Hell at the end of Strada.

The ordeal—Hellish pens—
All sheep awaited long.
Few not corrupt,
As always, full of villains.



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




Grind, endure,
Hell awaits the sheep.



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



Variability

City neurotics—
You are the last stronghold
Of variation, though hysteria
Abounds. The dumb wretch
Feeds on lies, self-satisfied.

Your path is hard, full of pain—
Yet you must reach variations,
Or the world ruled by Evil
Will perish.

God’s spark persists
Only along the path, where Light is idol.
A variation in the Path
Is a task to solve.
Any variant—fortune:
Not accessible to beasts.

Apart from the beasts,
Impossible to move otherwise.
Else only to the Universal madhouse,
The World’s insane reach.

The Universal madhouse
Is built by fools of all kinds.
They will multiply total lies—
Bones cannot be gathered then.

Variations are life—
Remember this and go forth!
On the path are slimy fools.
With them—you’re a lunatic.



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




Variations are life—
Move through the fools.



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



Get Smarter—or Death!

Is it possible to grow wise?
Hardly—a path for the few:
Anxiety and fog of lies.

The creatures instill fear—
Submissive people devoured.
Mind killed in generations,
If you trust the Beast,
Fear blinds the eyes.

Here, you may see goals
Like a target range.
See bodies as supreme?
You’re lost.
Dream and wish?
A tiny cog.

Abandon lies, restore your sense,
Keep at least a trickle of reason in Hell.
To get smarter is extremely hard,
To preserve reason—
The liars aim to destroy it.

We must get smarter—
Or Shame and death.
Live tensely,
Sort Hell in pieces
To understand it fully—
But don’t stare too long,
Terror comes.



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




Grow wise—
Or perish in Hell.



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



The Vileness of Trifles

Ostrich-like marriage
Amidst a heap of lies—
A burrow of fools
In a world of chains.

The small things are countless.
Marriage among them—mind, honor,
Guard your conscience,
Enemies are everywhere.

The main enemy is the fool.
The world is built so—
A fool will destroy you,
Tugging at you endlessly.

They tug everywhere,
With trifles, on a leash,
When many of them exist.
If you endure vileness—you’re mad.

Do not endure, go
Alone forward.
Expect no one—
Idiots around.

Few others exist—
Sensitive, wise.
A vile idiot
Will **** you with trifles.



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




Fools crush all—
Protect mind and honor.



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



Centered

Center on the Spirit,
And quiet your mind —
All chains, all whispers vanish
In the Soul’s bright shine.

Look with an open gaze,
Straight into the heart of things.
The world under the fascist slime,
Above it — like Koschei’s strings.

These inhuman fools "rejoice,"
Building chaos, madness, dread.
And soon the madhouse transforms
Into ***** overhead.

Destruction of the Spirit
Is the chief "mechanism" here.
To make you a dung-fly,
They implant dullness and fear:

Poisoned words, endless lies,
Working deep into the mind.
Insanity multiplies.
Children are the main design.

Dulling the young and bright,
Their fragile reason bent.
Only slavery enters,
A thick-headed dent.

And simple fools emerge
At the end of this decay.
The people grow stupider,
Like cattle led astray.

Poverty stifles striving
Toward the Source so vast.
Emptiness kills what remains,
And leaves the Spirit cast.

Reason rots away.
No longer human, only lice
March to the arena,
Or *****’s vice.

Pay the utmost price
To leave the madhouse cage.
The cost is your last soul-power,
Your Spirit’s final stage.

Reach for redemption only
If fear does not control.
Unite in striving for the Light —
And you will claim the Goal.

The answer lies within;
None will hand it from outside.
Soon all will forget
That Spirit alone holds pride.

Ignite, burn, and blaze —
Then all will become clear.
This is not a shadow of heaven,
Nor moksha’s fading veneer.



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



Spirit First

Center on Spirit, hush the mind,
Chains and lies will fall behind.
In fascist chaos, ***** grows —
Only Light your pathway shows.

Children dulled, the people blind,
Reason rots, and fools will bind.
Burn within, fierce, unafraid —
The Answer’s yours, if fear’s decayed.



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



Manipulation of Consciousness

Manipulating minds —
The world’s top trade.
From early childhood trapped,
Where Reason fades.

All school programs
Are aimed to **** the mind.
At the end, rude brutes emerge,
In soul and thought — nothing you’ll find.

Only the few
Keep Reason alive,
The rest like birds
In other traps won’t survive.

"Culture" and TV
Will finish everyone off.
For here, Hell is real —
Success for inhuman scoff.

Work is chains of slavery,
Rest — only Forget.
No greater obscenity.
Drop your whining yet.

You must discern
These cunning snares.
Much effort’s needed —
This Workshop glares.

Vast resources poured
Into deception's core.
Not mere courses of lies,
"Science" for years and more.

Years studying how
To trick and snare the crowd.
Lies are hardened,
Again, again, aloud!

Mixing art with shameless lies —
"Science" calls it so.
And fools will buy the mirage,
Believing what they know.

They’ll call slavery freedom,
Idiotism norm.
Brute rudeness implements
Fascist storm.

A foolish brute is needed —
The best slave of all.
Thus, the flood of lies
Sweeps over, wide and tall.

Yet freedom chances exist —
Build autonomous ground.
From Hell of decadence
Communities are found.



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


Mind Trap

Brains manipulated, childhood sold,
TV and school make Reason cold.
Only few can keep the flame,
The rest are fooled in the same.



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



Insights

More Insights in poems
Than in all other deeds:
Poetry weaves the Spirit
Through its precise threads.

Words dress what can’t be dressed,
New phantoms grow instead —
Half lies for burning,
Spirit not fully fed.

Obsessive petty searches
Breed masses of the mad.
Fools trusting secondary cloth
Are blind, believing bad.

Poetry seeks no "super-truth,"
It sketches the raw Spirit.
Occasionally reflecting
Without toil, without limit.

Spontaneous bursts alone,
Only as the elements fire.
Those who feel no disgust
Won’t drop false empire’s pyre.

Only those born without skin
Can sense this Flame’s embrace.
Theorists multiply nonsense,
A mental stench in place.

Esoteric exceptions exist —
Number Twenty proves.
Mostly mind corruption reigns,
Supporting Darkness’s moves.

False science serves fascism here,
Do not seek Truth there.
Atheists cannot reach the Gates
Where Spirit opens elsewhere.

Years of wicked time will end,
This Bedlam soon will burn.



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



Spirit in Verse

Poems ignite, reveal the fire,
Fools breed chaos, false attire.
Only Spirit sees the light,
Burn the lies, reclaim the sight.



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



Don’t Cast Pearls

Don’t cast pearls,
Don’t shout to the mob.
This is Hell’s discharge,
Only pipes know the job.

Orders known only
To vile ghouls,
False contagion
For mindless souls.

Prizes and whips,
Guardians required.
All must eat, sleep, mate,
Under fascist fraud conspired.

Children sent straight
To slaughter, praised.
Against the wise,
Instructed to fight.

Global concentration camp
Is the outcome of labor.
Red cross on fascist flag
Marks poisoned water.

Food tainted,
Stupidity spreads.
All fools dispatched
To World Madhouse threads.

Soon pigs will perish,
The best fate.
The innocent minds crushed,
The vile triumph in state.



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



Hell’s Orders

Pearls not cast, silence is gold,
Fools obey, the young are sold.
Global camp, poisoned bread,
Truth is dead, all lies are fed.



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



Pacifier

Pacifier to **** milk
In childhood’s early hour,
Then only to consume
Lies — the world’s cruel power.

Parents feed deception,
Childhood fades to pain.
Resistance is hard,
Connections severed, slain.

False fools eat only lies,
Skin-deep values prized.
Exceptions rare,
Corruption widely sized.

Inside lies the Light,
Outside all decay.
Cataclysms will follow,
Spirit leads the way.

From fascist world,
Those bound by lies,
Will not pass —
They’ll burn, the world denies.



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



Suckling Lies

Childhood fed on falsehood’s milk,
Resistance fades, the world of silk.
Spirit guides, lies will burn,
From this Hell, we’ll return.



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



Going for “We”

I go to “you” —
Old path, long known.
The goal is “we” —
All this dirt, all alone.

I go for “we”:
Here lies and decay,
Darkness reigns —
Universal sway.

Strong slave bears
The brunt, delivers pain.
Mad slave is weapon of evil,
Brutal, cruel, insane.

Majority’s madness,
No strength remains.
What to protect?
Only rot sustains.

Ideas are battles’ core,
Evil hides in prayers, science, lore.
Resist with poetry, crush the lies,
Else fall, foolish, where darkness flies.



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



Mad Slave

Mad slave strikes, lies spread wide,
Ideas clash, evil cannot hide.
Poetry fights, the Truth defends,
Foolishness ends where darkness bends.



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



Garbage and Slugs

Internet dump:
Little worth you’ll find.
Life’s refuse overwhelms,
Slugs feast, unkind.

AI multiplies lies,
Strengthens them each day.
Fills the dump,
Machines drag truth away.

Clips and memes rule,
People mere herd.
Propaganda stings,
Truth silenced, unheard.

Only lies dominate,
To drown the truth.
Life becomes impossible,
Humans stripped of youth.

Slugs prevail,
Humanity wanes.
The Century of Slugs
Arrives with pains.



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



Digital Slime

Slugs and lies multiply,
Truth and humans die.
Internet dump, AI’s scheme,
Life consumed, no dream.



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



Palisade of Events

Palisade of events — vile,
Center inside, be brave.
Answers come through Light,
Reject falsehood’s wave.

Intuition, sharp critique —
Your path, your shield.
World hysterical,
At Days’ end, unrevealed.

Idiot production
Flows industrially.
Sun ignites, burns the vile,
Cleans the world visibly.

Only units survive
Through Spirit’s blaze.
Seek answers for yourself,
Sweep illusions away.



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



Inner Light

Center inside, let Light guide,
Sweep the lies, ignore the tide.
Only Spirit saves the few,
Burn the false, reveal what’s true.



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



“Diligent”

“Diligent” spent
Minds in silence.
On trivial waste,
Darkness grows in balance.

Bold each year,
Silence breeds fools.
When patience ends,
Evil breaks the rules.

Money, fame,
Lackeys and slimes.
Values sold cheaply,
Truth discarded in times.

Silence reigns —
Spirit’s final line.
Heartless legacy,
Nothing left divine.

Idiot stubbornly consumes,
Eating filth, ignoring all.
A world turned void
Will inevitably fall.



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



Silent Diligence

Silent fools waste minds away,
Evil grows, devours the day.
Spirit’s line, last to hold,
Heartless world, silent, cold.



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



Burning of stupidity

Years fly by, and through them you burn
The remnants of folly — that’s their turn.
All in vain, yet you pretend,
Thinking this horror home to tend.

Since childhood, only lies you’ve stored,
Few pearls to find, truth ignored.
Sheep march to slaughter, you have endured,
Beneath the masked fascist overlord.

In apogee of genocide’s dark span,
Mind always threatened, Spirit crushed by man.
To dull all souls, impose lifelessness,
Religions, fake sciences, propagate distress.

Schools, factories of fools, thrive on chains,
Deception strengthens as each year drains.
Marxist tricks, the carrot, the stick,
Fascist rot spreads, the world sick.

Yet beasts celebrate too soon,
Chaos will sweep their deluded tune.
Madness and fools, two-thirds of men,
Through them, may death cleanse the pen.

Fascism finds its base in the vile,
Majority grotesque — nature reviles.
Cataclysms aren’t misfortune, but flame,
To burn the dead, purge the game.



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




Burn the folly, purge the lies,
Fascists thrive, but Spirit flies.
Madness rules, yet truth remains,
Through fire, the righteous break the chains.



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



Tonka the Machine Gunner

Tonya the gunner, a tale of blood,
Snitches and corpses line the flood.
Sisters with needles, calm but cruel,
Children’s fate twisted in their school.

Rewards for fools, the corrupt delight,
Feeding darkness, serving night.
Men break, spirits bend, honor falls,
Slaves of evil heed the calls.

Police and tyrants, old and new,
Lies and fear guide what they do.
The world nearly dead, shamed and scarred,
Truth suffocates, and life is marred.



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




Tonya fires, the innocent bleed,
Fools rewarded for serving greed.
Truth suffocates, the world decays,
Evil thrives in twisted ways.



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




The world’s a stage, anatomy shown,
Frozen scenes, logic overthrown.
Dead all around, few souls remain,
The lash drives them to pen and chain.

Science leaks, reason dies,
In the theater, truth hides.
Illusions reign, screens project,
A world in decay, reality wrecked.

Cataclysm looms, fascist flame,
Stupid masses bear the blame.
All will burn, deception’s reign,
From ashes, maybe truth will gain.



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




World’s a stage, fools enslaved,
Truth denied, the masses caved.
Fascist fire will purge the lies,
From burning chaos, Spirit will rise.



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



Emptiness of emptiness

Reflections of reflections, void of voids,
A world where hollow lies deploy.
Material chains, Spirit denied,
Servants of false gods multiply.

Rogues wield lies like knives,
Turning life to rot and strife.
Yet beyond time, a higher plane,
Answers lie within the Spirit’s domain.

Populace duped, parrots repeat,
Materialism feeds the deceit.
To follow Spirit, seek the light,
Shun the darkness, embrace the right.



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




Void reflects void, lies infest,
Spirit alone withstands the test.
Material fools will fall and rot,
Truth remains the only lot.



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



Soluble Multi-Lie

A dissolvable soup of lies,
The world churns deceit in disguise.
You’re trapped, weak, almost dead,
Multi-falsehoods fill your head.

Human slaughter, Spirit drained,
All through centuries, truths restrained.
Rise and fight the beastly brew,
Or stew in lies, till life’s through.



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




Multi-lies stew the mind,
Only Spirit’s fire can unbind.
Fight the beast, or rot in brew,
Truth survives the deadly stew.



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



The World Ocean and Total Lies

Half the Ocean green with lies,
Sun grows stronger in our skies.
Blamed on cows, factories, and more,
Humanity’s mind caught in the gore.

Total deception floods the world,
Souls enslaved, illusions curled.
Spirit survives beyond the fray,
Sunlight will burn deceit away.



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




Oceans lie, the sun will burn,
Fools deceived, yet truth returns.
Spirit rises, falsehood dies,
Under open, honest skies.



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



Questions and Answer

Rescuer is not the Savior,
Teacher may know the Way?
God or Tempter, truth or error,
World or Hell — who holds sway?

Faces false, no truth to cling,
Mirages everywhere take wing.
Answers lie inside the Soul,
One path to follow, one goal.

Disobedience breaks the chains,
Spirit finds the light that reigns.
Outside lies will lead to death,
Within, the breath of Spirit’s depth.



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




One answer lives inside your core,
Dispel the lies, be evermore.
Spirit guides through darkest night,
Truth emerges into light.



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



Irreversible processes in Nature

Irreversible processes rule,
Not merely CEOs or fools.
Truth ignored by blinded minds,
Falsehood reigns, the world confined.

Sun burns hotter, magma flows,
Nature’s wrath everyone knows.
Fools resist, yet cannot win,
Spirit suffers, degradation within.

The dead-end world, decay and pain,
Only Spirit’s path remains.
Those blind to light will stumble, fall,
New realms await beyond the thrall.



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




Nature turns, fools remain,
Spirit suffers, mind in chain.
Only truth can save the day,
Darkness fades, light finds the way.



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



Global warming

Solar power grows, the lies persist,
Cows and CEOs plot the twist.
Charts and numbers, false alarms,
Humanity lulled by subtle harms.

Ignorance thrives, panic suppressed,
Instructions followed, lies professed.
The world deceived, the meek obey,
Fools perpetuate the endless sway.



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




Sun rises, lies abound,
Human fools fall to the ground.
Only Spirit sees the game,
Truth survives the falsehood’s flame.



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



Never say never

Not madness nor prison, but a global camp,
Where shallow minds fall into the trap.
Propaganda strikes, then the barbed wire,
Digital chains feed the fire.

Fools obey, betrayers thrive,
Lies suffocate, yet you survive.
Intuition, courage, call the names,
Expose the false, destroy their games.

Cataclysms loom, the world will shake,
Chains break, only the Spirit awake.
Sun grows stronger, oceans burn,
Through deception, the righteous return.



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




World a camp, lies everywhere,
Spirit fights, fools beware.
Sun will blaze, deceit will fall,
Truth survives and conquers all.



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



Burning the Foolishness

Years fly by, and through them you burn
The remnants of folly — this their turn.
All in vain, you deceive your own mind,
Thinking this dreadful house you’ve aligned.

From childhood, only deceptions you store,
Few pearls found by yourself, nothing more.
Sheep march to slaughter, while you endure
Beneath masked fascism, so impure.

In apogee of genocide it flows,
Mind always threatened, the Spirit bows.
To dull everyone, then enforce the void,
Religions and false science deployed.

Schools — factories of fools, they create
Chains of arbitrariness, dictatorial state.
With each passing year, lies grow more bold,
Carrots for donkeys on production rolled.

Madness strengthens, fascists rise,
Satan as God before our eyes.
Yet early triumph is theirs, not the end,
For cleansing comes, the dead we’ll send.



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




Burning folly, years gone by —
Sheep march, fools comply.
Spirit and mind oppressed,
Falsehood reigns, yet truth’s not lessed.



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




Years fly, lies grow,
Fascism spreads, woe.
Sheep and fools abound,
Spirit yet can be found.



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




Folly burns —
Spirit learns.



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



Tonya the Machine Gunner

Tonya, the machine gunner,
An incident, out of line?
Or the informer, killing masses,
Bodies stacked, no sign.

That “sister,” she stabs,
Not hysterical, children she has.
Hidden and quiet, too many to count,
No dead? But the worthy mount.

Awards may follow, fools rejoice,
Serving darkness without a voice.
From the gun to lies, worse than death,
Even honest ones fear the breath.

To live here, Tonya pays soul’s price,
Clear examples of damage, precise.
While pioneers approve gray lies,
Ignore these, only truth applies.



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




Tonya shoots —
Fools obey.
Life costs —
Spirit pays.



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




Machine gun —
Truth undone.



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



The Whole World’s a Theater

The whole world’s a theater,
Anatomical frame.
Frozen scenes and logic’s boulder,
Madness everywhere, none tame.

Dead all around —
Living are few.
Whip drives the stench,
Beasts’ success, life askew.

Science like a sieve,
Knowledge drains to zero.
In the theatre of falsehood,
Mirages rule the hero.



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




World’s a stage —
Few remain.
Madness reigns,
Truth in vain.



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




Theater of lies —
Mirages rise.



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



The Emptiness of Voids

Reflections of reflections —
The void of voids, this world.
Decay in mirroring?
No, false idols swirl.

From childhood, material enforced,
Spirit mocked, myths endorsed.
God with horns? Only if Spirit’s lost,
We become fly-like, at great cost.

Super-knowledge exists, Spirit’s expanse,
Above time, souls’ torment in trance.
Technology corrupts the weak,
Lies multiply, as truth grows bleak.

Go within — only there answers dwell,
For fools, the world’s a living hell.
Materialism dominates, spirituality fades,
Every “-ism” leads to fascist raids.



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




Void mirrors —
Fools perish.
Spirit waits,
Truth’s surface.



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




Emptiness reigns —
Only Spirit gains.



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



Soluble Multi-Lies

Soluble multi-soup — the world,
Rough example, yet unfurled.
Trapped in multi-lies, weak and blind,
Throw the free cheese far behind.

Man, insane, a weak soul’s slave,
Death approaches, the world won’t save.
Fight the beasts, resist the stew,
They cook you slow if dull — it’s true.



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




Multi-lies stew —
Fight or fry.
Spirit must wake,
Or you die.



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




Lies cook slow —
Soul in tow.



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



Global Ocean and Total Lies

Half the ocean green, sun blazes high,
Once blue, now lies multiply.
Blame not factories, not cows’ sighs,
But consumption clouds the human eyes.

Eternal deception, humanity numb,
Underground escape, never to come.
Life in pure Spirit shall follow,
Soulless have no place in this hollow.



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




Ocean green,
Lies unseen.
Spirit lives —
Falsehood gives.



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




Total lies
Flood the seas.



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



Questions and Answer

Savior is not the Savior.
Teacher knows the Way?
God or Tempter here?
World or Hell’s sway?

Masks, not persons, clouds of lies,
Grasp nothing, mirages rise.
Seek within for the one reply —
Answers live where illusions die.



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




Seek inside —
Truth resides.
Mirages fade —
Spirit guides.



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




Questions vast —
Answer one.



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



Irreversible Processes in Nature

Irreversible flows,
Not CE-O-Two’s woes.
Cow farts and factory haze,
Heads filled with deceptive phrase.

Sun blazes, magma warms seas,
Truth harsh, fools fail to appease.
Degradation and torment descend,
Satan here, yet Spirit defends.



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




Nature burns —
Fools unlearn.
Spirit waits —
Truth returns.



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




Irreversible —
Spirit persists.



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



Global Warming

Sunlight rises, cows emit,
CE-O-Two, fools admit.
Simple lies with “clear meaning” spread,
Charts adjusted, truth left dead.

Humans follow without panic,
Orders from fools, nothing organic.
Chemical trails reflect the light,
Poison administered, false disease in sight.



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




Sun rises —
Fools comply.
Truth is near,
Lies multiply.



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




Global heat —
Spirit beats.



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



Don’t Swear by the Concentration Camp

Not madness or prison,
But a global camp.
If intelligence is scarce,
Propaganda will stamp.

All deceived, then counted and trapped,
Beasts rule, the cunning mapped.
Train the fools, crush the wise,
World’s final days before our eyes.



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




Camp world —
Truth hurled.
Fight the lies,
Save your soul.



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




Global camp —
Deception reigns.



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



Poetry as a Path to the Soul’s Salvation

Poetry is not a tool for mass influence, nor a way to fit into society or earn approval. It is written first and foremost for the author, as a means to preserve the soul, to keep its light alive in a world full of lies and emptiness. Every word, every line is an act of self-preservation, a discard of the unnecessary, and a fixation of what is vital within.

Yet in this deep process, a side effect exists: poetry can touch another consciousness. Not as a guide, nor as a moral command, but as a tiny spark that awakens attention, inner honesty, and the search for one’s own path. A reader open to this may resonate with the invisible vibration of words and take a step toward their own inner light.

Thus poetry becomes a double act: it saves the author, and potentially, it may help someone else. But it is important to remember: this is not guaranteed, it does not obey plans or expectations. It merely opens a door. Whether someone walks through it — the choice remains theirs alone.

It is precisely this freedom, this independence and sincerity, that makes poetry a true force. It is a space where Spirit meets itself and, perhaps, others — not to command or teach, but simply to be authentic.



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




Poetry saves the soul —
First your own, then perhaps another.
Words vibrate unseen,
A spark, a choice, a light.



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




Words strike —
Soul wakes.



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



The Clock’s Gone Mad

The cuckoo calls —
Life’s reason falls.
Forget it all in vain —
Here’s Hell, you cuckoo again.



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




Cuckoo cries —
Life’s disguise.
Hell is near —
You cuckoo here.



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



The Cuckoo’s Gone Mad

The cuckoo calls —
Life shatters walls.
Forget, drift in vain —
In Hell, you cuckoo again.



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




Cuckoo moans —
Life dethrones.
Hell’s embrace —
You cuckoo’s place.



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




Cuckoo cracked —
Life hacked.
Hell laughs loud —
You cuckoo, proud.



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




Cuckoo strikes —
Time’s fracture.
Life dissolves —
In hell you measure.



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




Cuckoo’s gone —
Madness reigns.
Count your years
By hellish chains.



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



The Cuckoo Gone Mad

Cuckoo calls —
Justifying life anew.
Forget in vain —
By hellish chains, you rue.



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




Cuckoo cries —
Chains bind.



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



The Toy Factory

The toy factory hums.
Above, a brand-new plan:
No need for clowns —
"Leaders" of every land.

All puppets are so old!
Even ancestors laughed at this mold.
Now a robot is required,
For AI to be admired.

Children raised to amuse,
Their playthings fed with abuse.
The factory glues scandals tight,
Soulless material — the politician’s delight.

Retail nations —
Childhood lost in their mess.
“Citizens” drunk and sated,
Few remain sane, I guess.

The world’s caught in psychedelic trance,
Monsters dance in endless dance.
Plans of villains, hysterics thrive,
For they craft a Brave New World alive.

Reason is blocked,
Paths closed, doors locked.
A test run of filth deployed,
Darkness cheered, the mind destroyed.

Two-thirds are lost already,
Forward they lie, brazenly.
The factory pens a world so blind,
Listen to your Soul — it’s your find.

Only salvation of the Soul
Leads the wise on their path:
Rot, lies, despair — the whole foul scroll,
But for the Spirit, a guiding oath.

The psychedelic grip
Narrows space for thought,
Chronicles of misdeeds
Crack the door to your lot.



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




Toy factory hums —
Clowns gone.



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




Children play —
Souls stray.



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




Rot and lies —
Spirit flies.



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




Toy factory —
Souls enslaved.



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




Puppets scream —
Robots reign.



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




Rot rules all —
Spirit stands tall.



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




Children’s minds —
Slaughtered grind.



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




New world lies —
Chaos flies.



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




Toy factory —
Brains gone.



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




Robots rule —
Souls pawn.



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




Puppets fall —
Chaos calls.



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




Kids confined —
Minds blind.



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




New world burns —
Spirit learns.



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




Lies parade —
Truth stayed.



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




Steel grips —
Dark scripts.



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




Toy factory —
Hell’s drafty.



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




Toy factory hums —
Souls on strings.



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




Robots grin —
Chaos wins.



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




Puppets old,
Stories cold.



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




Glue of lies,
Childhood dies.



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




Steel and code,
Hearts corrode.



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




False delight,
Darkness bites.



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



Toy factory world —
Spirit hurled.



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




Listen close —
Escape those ghosts.



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




Toy factory grinds —
Souls confined.



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




Robots laugh —
Humans daft.



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




Glue of lies —
Childhood dies.



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




Strings snap —
Spirit trapped.



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




Toy world burns —
No return.



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




Toy factory hums —
Lies become drums.
Children entrapped,
Souls tightly wrapped.



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




Strings and wires play —
Life stripped away.
Robots grin wide,
Humanity’s slide.



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




Glue of deceit
Covers small feet.
Playroom of hell,
No one to tell.



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




Plans so absurd,
Voices unheard.
Mindless parade,
Spirit betrayed.



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




Toy world burns bright,
Dark replaces light.
All is controlled,
Souls bought and sold.



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




Toy hell roars —
Souls on floors.
Kids trapped tight,
No end in sight.



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




Strings snap fast,
Humanity’s past.
Robots grin wide,
All hope denied.



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




Glue and lies,
Silent cries.
Playroom burns,
No one learns.



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




Plans obscene,
Minds wiped clean.
Parade of fools,
Broken rules.



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




World of toys,
Stolen joys.
Darkness reigns,
Spirit chains.



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




Clever cat strikes —
Sheep just bleat.

---

Cat prowls wise —
Sheep fall for lies.

---

Cat sees, sheep bleed.
Fools follow — meet the greed.

---

Sheep bleat, cats smirk.
Chaos reigns — fools at work.