the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

in the hospitals and jails
it's the worst
in madhouses
it's the worst
in penthouses
it's the worst
in skid row flophouses
it's the worst
at poetry readings
at rock concerts
at benefits for the disabled
it's the worst
at funerals
at weddings
it's the worst
at parades
at skating rinks
at ****** ******
it's the worst
at midnight
at 3 a.m.
at 5:45 p.m.
it's the worst
falling through the sky
firing squads
that's the best
thinking of India
looking at popcorn stands
watching the bull get the matador
that's the best
boxed lightbulbs
an old dog scratching
peanuts in a celluloid bag
that's the best
spraying roaches
a clean pair of stockings
natural guts defeating natural talent
that's the best
in front of firing squads
throwing crusts to seagulls
slicing tomatoes
that's the best
rugs with cigarette burns
cracks in sidewalks
waitresses still sane
that's the best

my hands dead
my heart dead
silence
adagio of rocks
the world ablaze
that's the best
for me.

Mother
I know
Your instincts tell you
How i hurt inside
Though i've never said a word
Nor shed a tear infront of you
And it hurts to imagine
How you find comfort
And sleep in my bed
Whenever i worry you
While i was away
I guess i'm on the hardest
Of all hard days
And the lowest
Of the low
A heartbreak
And uncertainties of what to do
Have been running like rats
In madhouses
Right in my brain
I still haven't mustered
The courage
I never know when
And i know if i tell you
That would break your heart more
I appreciate
How you try to cheer me up
Despite my cranky face all day
How you try to pull me out of my cave
And bring me to places
Though you know
I hate seeing people
And how you try to digress my attention
From buying alcohol
But still buy me anyway
And scolding me when
You found my pack of cigarettes
I wanted to stop mother
I'm working on it
But not now
But this I promise today
For you i won't try
To touch death
Nor even think about it again
There will be days
When I will lock myself in my room
There will be nights
When i will choose to be in solitude
But i promise mother
That i will grow up
That i will grow old
That I will get through this
And one day
I'll be stronger
Like you

-Malaya Sanchez

in a city that breeds hooligans
ingrates and indecencies,
where the architecture of a lost era
crumbles into brothels and madhouses,
where shootings peak
with the heat of summer,
where new windows are boarded up daily
and we chop down trees like fanatics,
in the city I call home,
in the city I love,
destroyed by its ignorance,
I am condemned to silent pleas
and empty stares.

We are
Born like this
Into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
Into bars where people no longer speak to each other
Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings
Born into this
Into hospitals which are so expensive that it’s cheaper to die
Into lawyers who charge so much it’s cheaper to plead guilty
Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed
Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes”

when you start talking... you rarely unravel the brain's conspiracy for secrecy, you never want brain = heart automation with solid theories that are rarely given an individual bias to be based on... a bit like those pencil-pushers working in offices for MI5 or MI6 who thought spying was all in fiction, but rarely confirmed the fact: in the c.v. it was stated: show your intelligence to prove the vulnerability of others easily persuaded... that's called providing intelligence... and those adverts for london hipsters on brick lane and hackney pavements just blew my cover... because no one really knows if one will doppelgänger the plot... with the body alcoholic and the shadow intelligent, or vice versa... the oddity... please call david bowie.*

in the freudian sense we get an origin of understanding
with a little boy, who's about to become oedipus,
we have diagnostics from a complex, the oedipus complex,
but with jung the childhood origin of diagnosis is
missing, childhood isn't the source of the problem,
after all we are born with a weak bladder and weak
**** muscles, hence the diaper, hence the elevation
of the problem into the realm of a collective unconscious,
i.e. the plumber doesn't know what the electrician does,
the electrician doesn't know what the artist does,
or how he does it, it's not that we're all unconscious
unable to craft any collective or individual meaning,
but i can recognise a freudian sympathy in 21st century
practice of psychiatry from a jungian one...
the freudian simply assumes your childhood was a nightmare,
that you were abused... but to a jungian - with the
offshoot of the testimony of laing's anti-psychiatry
never mind szasz... you say you go drinking at night
into the woods alone... they sense a fear in themselves
and simply un-diagnose you; which i managed to do...
i can count about 10 psychiatrists who diagnosed me
this that and the other... but they never asked me about
the problems in my mature being, they were looking for a
hurt child, sure i grew up in an environment without
a father between the ages 4 & 8... my father was just
a voice on the telephone and the first nintendo,
a gameboy... but i was surrounded by older people,
my great-grandmother read me a picture bible
and taught me to tie my shoelaces like i'd tie a ribbon
of a present, my grandfather took me for walks with
the two dogs i owned: axel a dobberman and bella
the alsatian, me piercing one of his bicycle tires to get
him off work at the steel factory for a day...
the steel factory closed, went bankrupt, or simply sold-out
to foreign spanish investors, many people left the city
of my origin... never mind...
children are not compulsive liars... but those who
emerge from childhood become compulsive liars...
children are selective liars... once the cookie jar is
opened... once the dog ate the homework...
they can't even combine lying with imagination,
after childhood you can't even do that, you can't
even combine lying with imagination -
there are no images involved, only words, black holes,
symbolism... all you get from an expected combination
of lying and imagination is that imagination
becomes ****** expressions, bordering on apathetic
****** expressions.
but guess what, above all what i said...
i was diagnosed as mad... but i never set foot in an
asylum, a knothouse (knot, yes, madmen are
like knots, jumbled up, the linear pattern of vitality
suddenly becomes a knotted sphere with only cats
able to unwind it - set loose the cats into the madhouses
of the world!) which can only mean ONE thing...
if i was diagnosed mad, but never entered a madhouse...
i'm assured by the laws of deduction, that, i, am,
in, fact, in a society that's a madhouse...
no wonder people can't appreciate the beauty of
the world, they took theology to the parasites
and explained things that way,
plus they advertised, started traffic signalling...
now days people simply pass trees and mountains
nonchalantly... they're more interest in what's organising them,
once words were kept in books... those great bricks,
but since people managed to make everyone literate,
the words broke out from the alcatraz of their
enticement and ventured out, like robots trapped,
and became adverts coca cola and warnings 50mph...
then the beauty of the word disappeared, because everything
in diamond contortion odd simply became dull,
dull because life became faster... and there was
no way of allowing reflection on unmovable things
to contain any speed - otherwise become a dog,
hold something resembling a branch in your mouth,
bite down, keep it in your mouth long enough
while you carry down the stairs a copy of witkiewicz's poems
and your tongue will become alive and numb
with poison... it will become a poison arrow...
and now that arrow is aimed at your heart.

In the Madhouses,
everyone's insanity
is up to the brim
and pitch perfect

they are howling's
and scares of restlessness
but nothing is hidden inside.
it's like the soul
possessed by the heart

all are in the neverland
hallucinating on free will,
waiting for eminent death
with open arms,

but then again,
they cannot earn, be social and
breed for deemed to dangerous
for a society as their minds
are too weak and heart too strong.

I sometimes wonder,
where does the madhouses really lie?
within their boundary or outside?

We are
Born like this
Into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
Into bars where people no longer speak to each other
Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings
Born into this
Into hospitals which are so expensive that it’s cheaper to die
Into lawyers who charge so much it’s cheaper to plead guilty
Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed
Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes

If after a certain age
you cannot be your own counsel
forget everything and go become a Socialist
they do a good line in regurgitating Bullshite

With mixed up minds
and ideology of hate and envy
Devils Advocates on temporary release from the madhouses
they say politics is spin and opposing sanity is power

The boring tonton Macoute
fantasists and deluded failures in hidden affrays
no rhyme or logic, the demagogues of the brainless and losers
paranoid semi-illiterates pontificating on their superiors affairs

What the blind butler saw meets what life below stairs reakons
as they drain the remaining drops of champagne flutes they ferry
in silver trays back to the scullery
and in that familiar Valhalla, they are gods who rule the world

nobody ever fins
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

You're dog lights the daylight in the street
In the heat of the breath of the wilting leaves
The daylight, your a dog heals the winter
Winter's dead, but, my dog is still hollering
At the door that gives empty looks never opening-up
Man-made machines that made wars on every side
One peat and bitumen eye, heterochromia
I wish I could pick you up with a midnight spoon
On the midnight summer's night with misty mirages beyond false compare
You are beautiful than God, Goddesses are chasing after your soul
I guess you get those killer instincts that change with the weathered horses brushing air
Stormy as the sunlight, sunlit as the stormy weather
How can this world change, if the knives remain blunt
And the guns cut through flesh and bones, with a deafening noise
Tumultuous storms on the California streets can be mistaken for a handful of dust
Don't be dreary, weary, merriment learned as you tear me up imminent desire in the coyote after the fire of Moloch horridus
Life with the brilliance of minds in raging madhouses, two-sets of classical music, two-cents in a jazz hat
I could give my bit for the truant tune that hovers my head of cloudy dubiousness, scintillating Sun shining like farthings
Some of these cents are jaded like wars of Macedonia, made of emerald clad Eli Eli sabachtachni insignia
Your heart must be from the mountains, cause you aren't from this Earth
Midnight summer's dream, you treat us with fairness beyond compare, put on your make-up
Come out of the light, show yourself the waves of relief
He shows you the way of the earth, wind and fire can crash shapeless like kinmanship
Shapeless little droplet in the nightly crimson wildflower, shine bright like the wound of shouldered giants

When I hold you in my palm, you gain shape of an eternal blessing
Conceived out of wedlock, the cheap tickets, and sold-out rodeo show
Hair like wires, stretch into a starry dynamo of the motionless night
I can't tame you with a name

Dante, the Inferno's here baby,
Look up and down the avenue sweetheart, Ain't
Nothing but chicken ***** and chicken hearts,
Lining the gutters and grocery stores, While I Got
My pincer moves down to mechanics,
It's like an art form baby,
Machines that drum dumb dull all day, As frenzied housewives Fight over toliet paper,
I tear up the avenue,
Spitting hellcat North,
Looking for the remnants
Of a once great civilization,
Red balloons and bicycles ribbons Float by my intoxicated eyes.
And Mozart plays handball
Off the prison wall.
And politicians line they're pockets,
And poet's reside in madhouses, And the wealthy
Rig the game,
And birds fall from the sky.
And it's just like clockwork baby, And canned beets
Are the main course,
And hands raise
To a silent sky.
And Dante baby,
You hit the nail on the head.
And nothing calms my ******* heart, And the sun screams
At the blood of the day,
As fans whir in ghetto windows,
We throw up the last of the day.
And the walls come crashing
And never make a sound,
And it's a one way ticket,
And never look down.
And Dante sports wings in Heaven, and I have two feet
On the ground,
And I guess it draws even,
And the best laid plans
Are no plans at all.

It's a bit of laughter, that goes a long way to just you
If it comes as no surprise, it goes a long way if we, you're you
Looking for canvases of fruits, and tapedecks of Japan, dying pretty hard
My life's in misery, but, I don't what, does it fear to live?
My life's in inescapable fear, and I don't know what it means
Oh doctor, tell me why will my thy will open to the eye of sun and heaven and earth, red earth I'm bleeding out in these rags forlorn for the lost feeling
Hold my high hopes, in the kite running skies that leave my thoughts dry as long as the picture is finding innocence in your reasons, two simple reasons why this in spells of manic depression
Trapped in a young man, and old and dead that spurs madness
Doesn't the piano chime with the murderous hope in my skullduggerous soul, I don't deserve this madness
Dreaming up of skulls, suddenly realizing the death of thine light in my eyes very dubious, beyond false compare
He said I'd just write you free-prose poetry, but, I'm looking for another letter of the Hades Gate, who heard him leave
I'm blowing in the wind, but, I'm drowning in madhouses
Raging with innocence, innocuous and capricious caveats, and talk of the passion without immediate conscious experience
I'm a body without consciousness, and I hear you in the starry skies of your loveless dust ordered in the years of rag ***** and talk of artichokes artistic, chokes me to tears to see what we've become
In a generation of hysterical madness, and I saw the best minds in the yearly bestsellers written by droning bickering pretentiousness, looking for childhood, they found their flickering peace in their cooked up courage in the collated document of liverwurst and hog tails that promised the empty soul to offer its confusion in a soup of surly murmurs in this silent sky, what ideal do I love to choose, adding two and two?
I'm forgetting everyone when I realize I should have forgotten them a long time ago, in the centuries that repeated in the song
Dancing with repetition, in the mayday of restoring heaven
How about I tell you that I couldn't talk to my doctor?
'Cause **** was the disease
How about I tell you, that my house smells, wishing it could make love to stylish artists and teddy bears with adorable aromas, fragrances of time and my mother can't read me, I just read her I write about the battered suitcases wanna travel the swirling minds of childish about desultory blues on the Ray Charles blues in
Playing in the back of a phonograph, in the corsets and flowery eyes that spell danger if I pluck a star from their supernatural darkness in hand-churned ice cream sitting on a desolate understanding of the homes of the lost souls, and I talk of the ceramic ashcans that process the changed minds
That had understood the changes, in the wind wondering what hit them or in videos of gapes of bad mouth in stammering broken lips
Drama is the art of success, and thunderous claps and the noise wants me to cut my life into half measures, and half hollow men
Some of them now kids, we are the studied men with the ignorant looks searching for the light
Understanding that a child can accept the light, the real tragedy strikes when we realize that an adult is scared of us
Sovereign in slavery, talk of the broken lip in white pallor that cries tears of emotional tears of cottages that sail in Morocco in Tangiers
On the ***** streets of hunts, and jousting verbal catatonic piano brilliant hurt, balancing on the fire
That I can't see, and the fall feels cold as hell, and the terrapin stays in the recesses of the doves flying above them
Falling into the side of the dark moon, and the colored literature in the stammering men was a white, well that's how we had the grapevine in this haven
Lend it's heralding living, in the clothes exchanged for jazz, and talking about jazz like it is, for the black men forgiveness
White men are afraid of black men because of expression. And black men are afraid of white men because of the lack of oppression, or the means to tell it like it is with their white lies and white fears of the black man sitting on a bench with his hand in ice creams, it's freezing outside...

White men fear black men because of depression, dedicated to cause and effect
Ghostless towns of the crossbones soulless towns, and following the logic that makes common sense, to avoid the ghosts of their past in the ideas that need to be kept in the past
Maybe true love waits, but, it's not my barking neighborhood
And I hate women with attitudes, and dogs that don't latch the reciprocated greed in a bit of chalk and white flame, green platitude, because happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing
Where's her mom?
She's crying?
Where's her mother in the neighborhood suburbia?
Cashing in, and cashing out without her looks of financial fickle frenzy going into the cries of the howling crummy apartment, doesn't tell when the broken tears stop before they are complete
******* single torn child, an ultimatum for no limitations if your whiplashes the dashed chair, in the undulating tumescence of buildings in howling midnight in the secret garden
Sunflower you look toward the time, identikit caress these battered feelings in that we all know that ought to be found in the hearts that have lost them glow
We are lost in your glow monarchical, we are writing writhing souls looking for offensive erosion
And defensive simplicity in oil and water
In oil lamps burning midnight lamps inscribed in speakeasies, crowded in a quickie
Affixed I'm free to taste the reality of the hydrogen bomb, the best defense is the strongest offense

Perhaps they cull them from Twisters alley
for these types you don't keep in Madhouses
give them anything and watch them put their dross on it
some see reverse psychology, I see aching ignorance flaying
you get that palpable venting, you see the pent-up sadist foaming
that ******* cliche waiting for attention perhaps all day for a bite
then the rage flows as it sees its bait and snap, snap it pours its rage
joke of madness showcasing the contents of a deceased mind aflame
spewing its pains as another barbs hits cowardly nonentity ashamed
and in desperation it seek out in its ****** worthless twisted dome
the meaningless songs of the inadequate maggot crawling in its puke

"Many people who shouldn’t be in psychiatric hospitals are there, while many who should be there are not."
— Gilles Deleuze


No need for madhouses to rise —
The world itself’s a madman's pit,
A rotten cage of filth and lies,
Incurable and lost in it.

A brilliant mind, a soul so kind,
Is seen as sick, not as a light.
The blind have judged it for all time,
And crushed its wings to mock its flight.

"The world is ill!" — such voices say,
And for that truth, they bear the cost.
For every fool will curse their way,
Defending their Eternal Lost.

When spirit fades, the void remains —
A crippled world, a soulless cult,
Where demon-servants pull the chains
And sell a hollowed-out result.

A brand-new idol, cast in lead,
With filth and lies concealed inside,
Till once again the world is fed
Its old ideals, rebranded pride.

And fascism never fades away,
Just twists its shape from time to time.
Then in its fit, without delay,
It slaughters fools as if no crime.




In Russian:

Душевнобольные

"Многие люди, которые не должны находиться в психиатрических больницах, все же там находятся, в то время как многих из тех, кто должен в них находиться, там нет".
Жиль Делёз.


Психушки строить смысла нет:
Один большой гнилой дурдом
Сей пошлый мир — тотальный бред!
Неизлечимый он притом.

А потому большой талант
Иль очень чуткий человек —
Убогий псих, а не гигант,
В глазах толпы который век.

"Мир тяжко болен" — говорят
Такие люди, и за то
Гнобит их каждый глупый гад,
Храня Всемирное Ничто.

Ничто, когда в забвеньи Дух, —
Душой больной убогий мир
Под властью сатанизма слуг,
Что втюхают толпе кумир

Очередной: второе дно
Того кумира сатанизм.
Опять сожрёт мирок говно
Идей подложных, и фашизм

Не прекращается, слегка
Меняя формы, а потом
Он в обостренье — дурака
Вновь истребляет сплошь, гуртом.

"The Wisdom" of Decay

The “wisdom” of enduring,
The “science” of forget —
Just nonsense, reassuring,
A family’s safe bet:

They pass down old delusions,
Enshrined in sacred dust,
These plagues of mind’s confusions
Turn reason into rust.

Dehumanized by creatures
Who preach what must be done —
They breed obedient features
And call the monsters “sons.”




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



1.
They teach you to rot with a smile —
And call it the virtues of trial.

2.
Old lies in golden frames —
Their heirs wear branded chains.

3.
They pass down filth as truth —
And grind the will of youth.



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



Through Darkness

A lonely wanderer
Walks through darkest night,
Through fascist filth and horror,
Endless, endless fight.

For days are just illusions —
The dark inside runs deep:
Satan reigns supreme,
A “God” among the sheep.



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



Uniforms

Uniforms now stain the world around —
A fascist madness grips us all.
The traitors walk as norms profound,
Lies flood like waves, the tenth great fall.

Total lies and sellouts everywhere,
Like breath they fill the weak and blind.
Fascism shifts, but cycles wear —
Submit to beasts, you lose your mind.

Don’t trust, don’t bow, fight back the flood —
Only in struggle saves the soul.
Wake up from darkness, drown in blood —
The world decays beneath control.




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



The Final Feast

The slow drag of “life” unyielding,
On ruins of Honor and Mind,
A wake for devils, beasts unfeeling —
Soon these creatures lose their filth behind.

The filth-world’s doomed, the monsters know,
Their fury raging everywhere.
The fools in cursed shadows crow,
“All’s okay!” — a blind, numb prayer.

The chains? They think those days are past,
The past rewritten, torn apart.
In this vile, cheap world’s grim cast,
Soulless Nothing claims the heart.

That Nothing fades to emptiness —
The universe’s only law.
But here the final feast still festers,
Monsters wait to cast you off.




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



Full Stop

Dead children born
Of deadened minds —
“Thoughts” lash like scourges,
By the Tempter’s binds.

Souls sold cheap,
In bulk, on debt.
To lies and heresies listen,
Submit to evil — full stop, yet.

The full stop’s set — decay unfolds,
Fermentation’s now the trend.
The full stop’s sly — it multiplies,
Truth times zero, lies ascend.




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



Mines and Masks

A monkey mother
To her baboon son,
In raising rudeness —
Planted a mine undone.

A human mine —
Mistakes are made.
From age to age it grows,
And worse will invade...




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



Bomb

A mystic bomb
Blows minds apart.
Not fake science’s
Empty art.

The question now —
It’s on the list.
For bold it’s meant —
Stumps can’t resist.



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



So-Called "Normal"

“So-called normal” spread their sane delusion,
Carriers of madness dressed as truth.
Poor children born into confusion,
Their minds destroyed, their hearts uncouth.

Always harmed by “education” cruel —
A brutal school, a madhouse blend.
Madness grows, the learned tool,
Their goal is simple: make all minds bend.

Some rare souls walk the harshest road,
Escape the dulling, soulless grip.
But years of struggle crush their load,
Sap their wings and break their spirit’s tip.

Beyond that, harder still to rise —
To fight and build in swampy lands.
Among them breed the many lies —
“Normal” freaks, fascism’s hands.




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



Flight to Hell

Wings of Stupidity and Greed —
Their lift beyond control.
Landing gear is Ruthless Deed,
The pilot’s lost his soul.

They crush the skulls of those who fight,
Mid-flight, the rebels’ pain.
And in this final, cursed flight,
**** meets the end of days’ reign.



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



Creation of the *******

Imbecile Adam
Plus ****** Eve —
Built a madhouse,
Step left, step right — no leave.

Always punished:
Dogma’s sky-high reign!
Herds keep grazing,
Others stuck in pain.

Niches few, and shrinking fast,
Year by year they fall.
Need a broken ******,
More bold lies to call.

For brazen lies to rule the earth,
Destroy all niches, every bit.
Turn this world to a cesspool —
Make it all a ******* pit.




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



Shooting Gallery

This stupid world’s a shooting range:
They strike you close, from back, in flight.
Free cheese’s ticket — just a change,
Your spotter’s snitch in friendly light.

You’re both the target and the mark,
The aim drawn squarely on your skin.
They rarely move, stuck in the dark,
Safe “under fire” — caught within.




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



War of the Box and Fridge

The box of zombies wastes its power,
For nothing, lost without a fight.
The fridge’s might will dawn the hour —
A new day breaks with hunger’s light.

Consumerism’s blaze will show
The path to the Great Feast’s hell.
The box will cry, “It’s all for show!” —
A pointless hype it tries to sell.

In that feast, minds drunk will drown,
Souls wasted down the hollow drain.
Books forgotten, all cast down —
Only stew remains, no gain.

The stew calls out, “Come eat, devour!”
Jazz hums to lull you into sleep.
The box howls loud — a deadly power,
Calls for ******, dark and deep.



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



Cramming Kills the Mind

Kids of every age are loaded
With nonsense, crushed by rote and grind.
Memory’s strained and overloaded —
So out the Reason’s kicked, confined.

Worse than cramming, none can slay
The mind’s bright spark so cruelly.
Sit a while in school’s decay —
Drowning deep in stinking folly.

Programs made by vile TWARIs,
Not without a purpose, see:
You’ll sink in lies and mental mares,
All wasted, pointless misery.

Lies and half-truths piled high —
A freight train barreling blind.
Nonsense reigns, the Reason dies,
Banished from the conscious mind.



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



Cleansing Death

Death and you — no need for courtesy,
Cowards fear it, but death’s no foe.
Through Death, the Earth will find purity —
And soon, the solid ground will bow.

Like old times, no hiding holes,
No rescue from the coming fate.
Traitors, freaks, submissive souls —
Have sickened Earth and powers great.

All will vanish into night,
Born anew, the ones unchained.
Here will rise a stronger light —
No more fools to keep restrained.

No more stumps to hold you down,
Talent’s reign will take its place.




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



Stirrings and Troughs

Broken troughs — no news to tell,
Mostly secrets, hidden well.
No desire to take the blame,
Dreams alone fuel this lame game.

Movements fake, just carrot bait,
Leading ***** to their fate.
So the fiends direct the way —
Dragging souls to Hell’s decay.




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



Stirrings and Troughs

Broken troughs, no real events,
Secrets kept with no defense.
No one wants to take the blame,
Dreams are just a hollow game.

Fake motions, carrot dangled,
***** led to be strangled.
Fiends drag down the doomed parade —
Straight to Hell, no masquerade.




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



Stirrings and Troughs

Troughs are smashed — no real news.
Secrets kept, no one to lose.
Dreams like bait, no truth or care —
***** march to Hell’s despair.

Fiends command, no turning back,
Dragging souls to their attack.




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



The King Is Naked!

The king’s attire—
An age-old fight.
We’re gnawed by lies,
A heap of blight.

But rules not king—
A brutal fiend.
The wretched masses
Cry, subdued and mean.

The king’s a trick—
A smokescreen veil.
Clothes? Forget it—
All lies prevail.

Satraps lie,
The rabble’s glad—
To think is dread,
To rebel is mad.

So simple now—
Just lie to self.
In numbness feast,
Hide in your hell.




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



So-Called "Democracy"

Baboons with ballots in their hands,
Not healers, just a sham.
Soft lies laid like velvet bands—
Promises, the usual scam.

Once again the fools are fooled,
Still they trust—hell’s own jest!
You can’t break through to beasts so cruel,
They doom us all, no rest.

If **** keep playing their cruel game
Of “democracy” charade,
We’ll drown like apes in lies and shame,
The wise burned out, betrayed.




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



The End of History

Manure, CowID — the world’s insane,
The scale’s blown up — it’s pure defeat!
TNT, not blood, fuels Lyra’s vein,
When History’s end drums fierce and fleet.

Write with TNT — no gentle word,
Burn hearts today, make terror rise,
For those before fascist wrath unheard,
Look more like shadows than alive.




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



The Global Asylum

Psychos! Madmen! Screaming loud!
Scared inside the ward to stay?
Maybe wild thoughts breaking out?
Set them free? No — death’s the way.

Better die than fake a face,
Mimic crowds of broken minds —
Done-for lunatics who chase
“Normal” masks but none they find.

If a flicker of doubt shows
In your “truth” — CowID’s scan
Counts the rot and madness grows —
Darkness shameful, all is banned.

This is Earth’s grand Asylum —
No diagnosis erased.
Only listen to your soul,
Welcome Death with quiet grace.

Escape from this asylum?
Only Death will set you free.
Though they seem like gentle souls —
Fools, madmen, idiots be.




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



Tale of the Mob-Ages

A broken slave —
The mob’s own breed:
Spirit crushed low,
Words left to bleed,

Mind is killed —
As conscience dies.
Fear, shame, and guilt —
The whole tale lies.




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



The Kremlin Filth

The "Putin" collective,
Like all Kremlin ****, —
Embodiment of terror,
And idiot’s drum.

From those vile creatures,
Expect fresh pain and dread.
Their lies are simple—
Mostly wild nonsense spread.




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



"Peace" — A Shooting Range — A Toilet

Darkened minds and souls forgot
In a "peace" that’s soaked in lies,
Betrayal piles like filth and rot —
Long since turned to toilet skies.

We’re rotting, not alive,
Yet call this hellish “peace.”
Add madness, violence thrive —
Three-in-one: the shooter's lease.



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



Torment

Trust your Heart —
Sometimes your Mind.
Always check —
Don’t fall behind

The lies that swarm,
Easy to see,
If you keep
Your clarity.

Beasts lie crude,
Ruthless, coarse —
They spread the fear
With brutal force.

The world will drown
In lies so vast —
This torment comes,
Their wicked blast.




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



Circle of Collusion

Circle of collusion —
Cops and quack docs,
All are corrupt *******,
Liars, and crooks.

CowID’s the proof —
Hard to count the good.
Cop or doc? — A traitor!
To hell with honor and blood.

Circle of collusion
Spreads through many fields.
It means decay,
Where no one yields.

A world of vile snakes,
United in lies.
No exceptions matter —
Shoulder to shoulder, rise!

Serve the Darkness, stuffing
Their pockets full tight,
Killing souls slowly,
Dragging the world into night.



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



The End of History

“Vets” and fascists,
Masters of the total lie,
Thieving clerks and financiers—
These types we all despise.

CowID madness, endless war,
A parade of lies and traitors’ game.
Not peace—just one sick asylum,
Where being cattle’s not a shame.

Almost all are lost to this,
Only few kept mind and pride.
Norms and bounds have disappeared—
Corrupt beasts no one can hide.

For these fiends, it’s all the same—
As long as pay is on the table,
They’ll accept the brutal fascism,
Any beast they’ll make their slave.

Their reckoning won’t wait for long—
The end will come, their final fall.
It’s happened many times before—
The ruthless End of History’s call.



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



The End of History

Manure, CowID — the world’s gone mad,
It’s off the charts—total damnation!
TNT, not blood, inks this ballad,
Marking History’s devastation.

Write with TNT, not mere words,
Burn hearts today, let fear ignite—
For those who bow to fascist swords
Look more like demons than the light.




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



The History of Brave Deeds

“Nobility’s rare born from valor’s light;
Valor from nobility—still rarer sight.”
— Francis Bacon, seventeenth century’s call


Centuries of traitors breed the ****,
A rotten elite in a shrinking world.
With piles of cash, they justify some
“Valor”—faith in fools unfurled.

Great in schools, they teach the tale
Of “brave deeds” made by false parade,
But hide the crushing, brutal veil
On those whose truth and courage stayed.




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



The Trap, or Choosing Slavery

In Earth’s foul trap, where Evil reigns,
All stills—Creation, Thought decays.
The rabble turns to lifeless frames—
Reflect on CowID’s harsh malaise.

The breaking point lies deep inside,
Not out, but choice to wear the chain.
Brave souls, free minds — in madhouses hide,
While evil uses corpses’ pain

To crush and **** with ruthless hand.
Creation too becomes a threat,
Unwanted in this cursed land—
The breaking point? The deepest net.

A sign of cataclysms near,
That judge long-suffering Satan’s reign.
All else is noise, just empty fear—
A tiresome lie, a ceaseless strain.

Save your soul by sharpening doubt,
And crown intuition’s throne.
These cataclysms come round about—
Drive out evil, cast off the drone.




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



Valley of Fear and Rot

The slime of media fools,
Turns all to mindless drones.
Only beasts need such tools—
Corrupting souls with lies and bones.

"Upbringing" and "learning,"
Atheisms breed wild decay.
Like bacteria, spurning
Truth, you rot and fade away.

School, the press, and daily grind—
Steps down into the pit,
Where docile fools you’ll find:
A valley where all life will split.

Fear and rot in endless flow—
This is the world they grow.




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



UN’s Approval

UN’s stinking crew approves
The vile plague of *******—
Rotten fools just swallow lies,
Soulless sheep, they pass the "law."

Then every fake-state follows suit:
No shame remains — that time is gone,
Too few awake, just bleating herds
Feeding on the filth with greed and brawn.

The Overton window swings wide,
Then breaks a path—a brutal breach.
What’s left of reason buried deep,
While darkness they declare as “good” to preach.




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



UN’s Sick Approval

UN’s rotten gang endorses
*******’s foul plague.
Rotten fools endure their lies,
Soulless sheep who drag their plague.

Fake states follow in their tracks —
Shame’s long dead, the time is gone.
Bleating herds of brainless sheep
Devour filth, their minds withdrawn.

Overton’s **** window cracks,
Then crashes down—a brutal breach.
Reason’s corpse is buried deep,
Darkness crowned with evil speech.



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



Bears of Many Kinds, Including Figurative

“High thoughts” on fools’ dull lives
Always shatter on thin ice.
Be sharp — cold mind must gauge decay,
The mainstream rot of this whole age.

Not brown, but white should be the sign
Amid the hell that’s swallowed time.



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



It matters not where you arrive — honor the striving:
Strive toward Light — and rot you’ll be outliving.



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



A stone won’t stay a stone — just slime instead.
The slime of "bonds." Wake up from lies widespread!



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



Gangrene of mind replaced — no chance to flee,
By digital chains comes ruthless tyranny.



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



Dogmas

To live in sin — to serve the foolish dogmas,
That includes the chains of binding vows.
Dogmas form within the soul like clots and thorns,
Stuffed full with lies, deceit that darkly ploughs.

Slavery surrounds, and customs blindly hold
The pillars of those systems built on chains.
Long lost are true values, crushed and cold,
Beneath the hellish web of twisted brains.

Dead schemes, dead souls — a feeble spawn of dead,
The dullest fools obey those lifeless rules.
They’re essence of all madness, all that’s bred —
The prison walls for all the thoughtless fools.

Only awareness breaks the curse’s grip —
Face truth, decide for self, don’t let them bind.
Or dogmas will devour all your soul’s script —
So sharpen sense and wake your inner mind.



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



Cargo "Empire"

Imperial airs,
Colonies—what say you?
First came the masks,
Then helmets—shameful view!

A double-faced Führer rules,
Lawless, full of shame.
And Goebbels, ******, Müller—
Outdone in their vile game.

The cops are worse
Than **** torturers’ hands.
Ears withered from lies,
Judas among “doctors” stands.

Imperial airs—
A savage cargo cult’s guilt.
Not people, but bugs—
Their minds? A vacant hilt.



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



Cargo "Empire"

Empire’s swagger,
Colonies enslaved—what’s your say?
First came masks,
Then helmets—disgrace on display!

A double-faced Führer,
Lawless and vile disgrace.
Goebbels, ******, Müller—
All crushed by this rogue’s face.

Cops worse than **** fiends,
Lies have rotted their ears.
Judas among the “healers,”
Spreading hate and fears.

Empire’s swagger—
A savage cargo cult’s curse.
Not men, but crawling vermin—
Minds dead, brains immersed.



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



Cargo "Empire"

Empire’s swagger — chains and chains,
Colonies crushed beneath their reigns.
First masks, then helmets, all disgrace,
A *****, ruthless, venomous face.

Two-faced Führer, law’s disgrace,
Goebbels, ******? Overthrown in place.
Müller’s lies? Now they just choke,
This ****’s worse — the crown of crooks!

Cops more vile than **** fiends,
Lies have rotted all their means.
Judas doctors, snakes in white,
Selling death, betraying light.

Empire’s swagger — cargo cult’s hate,
Not humans here, just vermin’s fate.
Brains are dead, and souls are crushed,
In this swamp where reason’s hushed.



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



Cargo Cult’s Rot

Empire’s lies, a rotting plague,
Cops worse than beasts — truth’s betrayed.
Judas docs with poisoned hands,
Brains gone dead — their kingdom stands.



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



Pain

Drowned in pain — to fade, to cease,
If will is gone, and beasts hold peace.

But only through the FIGHT —
You summon pain to light.

You’ll perish — self undone,
To Pure Spirit, you will run.

The stench of madness — shameful world,
No longer can this hell be hurled.

Worse than any filthy pit —
Here dwells Death that won’t quit.



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



A Crying Shame

Clinging to dead forms of being —
A pit where minds and souls are drowning.
The madness of the stuck and seeing
How Earth beneath fools keeps on frowning.

The universe weighed down by shame,
While idiots chew lies with pleasure.
“All’s fine,” they say — they feed the flame
Of treachery beyond all measure.

The fools are many, wise are few,
That breed itself is fading fast.
Consciousness has dropped below
The floor — a shame that will outlast.



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



Stupidity

Confident stupidity —
A crop bred for slave control;
With gullibility and cruelty,
No need for whip or toll.

Forget the prisons, hangmen’s rod:
Just drown them in their greed—
And endless deals, a “super” fraud,
Will chain their slavish breed.

You might thin them with a war,
Or lies like plague and CowID.
This wretched world’s become a madhouse,
Where Spirit dies and Mind is freed.

The few who stand against this pain
Will vanish soon, as evil grows.
Leftover **** sinks in shame,
Beneath the shadow of the Super-Goat’s throes.



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



Rot and Lies

Europe’s rot, Russia’s stench,
Decay from overseas.
They say all people’s good and blest?
No verbal ****, please!

This filth has flooded every town,
Cities, lands alike.
The crowds’ dull ignorance enrages—
Only **** heed their strike.

At best, it’s faults of just a few—
But monsters know it well.
Hell’s no dream, they fry their lies,
Instead of truth to tell...




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



Dialogue of Fools

— "Free world," they say, is somewhere found?
— In some American-made show...
— They preach "party’s sacred ground"
To crowds with spirits low.
— Yes, yes, they preach. Freedom for gays,
And all that foolish stuff.
— Just propaganda, worse these days
Than old CPSU’s bluff.
Wash out your mouths and ears — be bold,
And toss this crap away.
The world’s no better, just more cold,
Killing Mind and Soul each day...




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



The Dead Walk

The fool of “living” dead remains —
A coffin frame so tight and small.
Here sheep outwit, and weeds gain,
More use than those who heed the call.

The dead surround us all around —
The world’s a crypt, a madhouse grim.
The **** that nurtures dullness bound,
Wields poison sharp and chances slim.

The dead will **** the living souls,
Though few remain to stalk the night.
The ghouls who send these dead on roles
Are scarce — but vast is their dark blight.

You’re born like targets in a range,
A toy for aim, a mark to shoot.
The weapon’s just a lifeless stump,
Yet fools still fight with broken truth.

The fool of “living” dead, no soul,
No face — just dumb disguise it wears,
And Reason battles for control
While empty minds are caught unawares.




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



YouTube

Videos of gluttons
Grab a million views,
Then it gets worse—
Wild fools amuse.

They’re comfy in their slime;
A wise one tries to find
A spark inside that mess—
Better just leave behind.




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



Glitter and Lies

They soothe us with their glitter, lies —
But comfort’s gone, the time has passed,
When everywhere, the rotten fascist flies,
A shameful sheep, Earth’s outcast.

So many sheep — where are the people?
They fade away, a dying breed.
Trapped in lies so total, feeble,
Their spirit crushed, no chance to lead.

No mind has ever truly grown —
Just what the monsters force and feed.
One marvels only at the drone,
Madness blooms, alive with death’s seed.



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



Wings of Passion

Passion’s wings — when pure they soar,
Cast off weakness — seek much more.
Beauty opens to the strong,
Feeds the fire that drives along.

In this world so sick and vile,
Hard to keep your soul awhile.
Wings of passion, mind in flight,
Lift you swiftly from the night.

Leave behind the sickening lies,
Madness where the falsehoods rise,
******* ruling, mind betrayed,
Soul enslaved and dreams decayed.

Be relentless, brave, and wise,
Fly above the darkened skies.
Death in flight — your soul’s release,
Earthly sins dissolve in peace.

Endure not evil’s crime,
Fear no foe, transcend all time.




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



Outward?

"An ancient man once said:
"Only a fool performs work aimed outward".
— Linji, ninth century.


Go only INWARD —
The herd is mad,
Cast off terror,
Madness' bad.

There’s the Pure Spirit,
Mind without lies.
Don’t be deaf
Among dumb sheep’s cries.

Don’t be blind —
Within you’ll find
The Light that’s true.
This world’s a pit —
A bottomless pit of lies.




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



Nothing Left to Pay

"If you want to know, you must give up something.
If you want to know it all, you must give up everything."
— George Gurdjieff


You must pay with life —
To grasp the madness’ core.
But life is gone! So how to pay?
Is life this plague, or more?

Pseudo-life in evil’s grip —
Go INWARD, seek the truth.
Don’t care for the beaten donkey
That suffers close, uncouth.

There’s no end here, only hell —
This world’s lost its mind for sure.
They **** the messenger alone —
No one hears, silent and poor.




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



Run When You Feel Like It

Who wakes the earliest, gets the fridge,
No other handouts — no need to bridge.
Sleep as you wish, then take your way,
Run when it suits you — not at break of day.

That morning running craze is lies,
A pile of nonsense, thin disguise.
Don’t buy the myth that dawn’s the call —
Run on your time, or not at all.




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



False Religions

Pure nonsense, a trap too thick,
To bear the endless, nagging trick.
The hook is fear — death’s anxious bind,
Fear it — a sweetened answer you’ll find.

They’ll sell you “life forevermore,”
Claiming truth, but lies they store.
Other creeds all cheat and lie,
While you just swallow their soft lie.

Such foolishness’s hard to bear
If you’re sensitive, aware.
Only Light can quell that dread,
Death’s scarecrow stalks the beastly dead.

Moment by moment, here you die,
And rebirth strikes in the same sigh.
Look straight ahead — dissolve and see,
In Death, pure springs of clarity.

Snow will melt, if you can keep
Your soul intact when Hell runs deep.
Into the world of Will and Mind,
And Honor’s path, you just might find.




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



Bio-Waste

Slave bio-waste—how thick it grows!
And all the filth the darkness sows.
So many fools and traitors here,
**** ruling with a grip severe.

The world’s a hell incarnate,
Where Lyre dies, and minds grow late.
Honor crushed beneath the spite—
Cursed chaos rules the night.




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



The Power of Today’s Media

“Give! Give!! Give!!!” — the sheep all cry,
“Here, here, here!” — the fascists lie.
But that **** Führer fools again,
Like earlier, the Reds’ cruel reign.

The one true truth here is to die,
The rest’s distraction, empty lies.
Had Goebbels seen this stench today,
He’d freeze in shock, just fade away.

The power of today’s media,
Beyond all bounds — no room for doubt.
Few stay clean, most turn to ****—
The bottom’s reached; decay’s about.



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



Vinegar and Doom

Vinegar tastes sweet for free,
While lies chain slaves in misery.
They bind the sellouts tight and fast,
Their faces sickening to last.

Like drinking vinegar’s harsh bite,
An essence sour, sharp as night.
Scream, groan, twist — lies turn you beast,
A prison zoo, a cursed feast.

They’ll build a pen, a zoo, a cage,
Where lies run wild and feed the rage.
So is this doom for one and all?
When falsehoods rise, we all must fall.




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



Beasts Run Wild...

Fools and drones —
Bonds all bent,
Rusty chains, a dark descent.
What’s unfolding, few can see,
Not the weak, but those who’re free.

True weaklings — very few,
The venom of vile lies grew,
Killing slowly mind and soul,
That immortal, shining whole.

Save the Spirit — all else’s fake,
Beasts rage on, their lies they rake,
Dulling brains with brazen lies,
Killing conscience, honor dies.

Ode to ****** and Goebbels

Oh, ****** and Goebbels? Not such a disgrace—
Compared to the **** who now run this place.
At least they had visions, though twisted and dark;
Now puppets serve demons for a coward’s reward.

Speechwriters deliver their filth to the beasts,
Advisors breed slogans that stink like disease.
And slowly they boil us, each word is a trap—
If you try to escape, they poison your breath.

They cook us like frogs in a lukewarm deceit,
Call it “humanity” while turning up heat.
Then comes the switch: “freedom” means choosing a cage—
Between types of lies, then comes fascist stage.

A stage so refined in obsessive control,
That ****** and Goebbels might cringe at the role.
No match in deception, no rival in spin—
The plebs are deranged by the fraud they breathe in.

So let’s praise old ******, sing songs for his horde—
Compared to today, he was less of a lord
Of total mind-twisting and psychotic despair—
Now truth is the enemy. LIE fills the air.



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




Today’s fascist wears a grin —
Truth is gone, and lies begin.



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




******’s ghost would pale and hiss —
You’ve outdone him. Welcome to this.



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




You fear the past? What childish bliss.
The present drowns in deeper ****.



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




The past was evil — crude, direct.
Today, it smiles with more effect.



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




They preached a cause — however vile.
Now puppets **** us with a smile.



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




Not ******, no — it’s you who lie,
And cook the world while asking “why?”



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




The frog still smiles inside the ***.
She calls it freedom. Knows it’s not.



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



Manifesto of the Lies of the New Age
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


1.
They call it peace — and bomb your mind.
Then ask you kindly to be kind.

2.
The tyrant wears a rainbow now,
And speaks of rights — while you learn how
To silence truth, to fear your voice,
And praise your cage as “freedom’s choice.”

3.
They ****** slowly, feed you sweet.
Consent is grown in every tweet.

4.
Your thoughts are scanned, then gently banned.
But smile — you’re free, they understand.

5.
The greatest lie is not the past —
It’s now, it's here, it’s built to last.

6.
You must obey — for your own good.
You must conform — as free men should.

7.
The new Gestapo’s dressed in code,
Its bullets: words. Its courts: upload.

8.
Each screen’s a pulpit. Every face
Repeats the script. Deny — disgrace.

9.
Your chains are soft. Your jailers — kind.
And yet they amputate your mind.

10.
They’ve killed the soul — with no regrets.
But call it "care". And clear your debts.



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



Speech Before the Burning — Series One
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

1.
I watched you trade your fire for foam,
Your hunger for a mirrored home.
You prayed to glass, to likes, to brands —
While wolves devoured bloodied lands.

2.
You made your soul a sleek device,
Then sold it twice. And called it nice.

3.
You feared the truth, so praised the lie.
Now lie with it. And wonder why.

4.
You crowned the cowards, mocked the wise,
Burned prophets live — then wept in cries.

5.
You whispered: “Love.” And built new drones.
You kissed the dead through silent phones.

6.
You gave your children screens and pills,
Then taught them pride in crafted kills.

7.
You fed your rage through filtered feeds.
Then asked: “Who planted all these seeds?”

8.
You knelt for trends, not sacred flame.
You fought for rights — then lost your name.

9.
You called it progress: rot and waste.
The gods you birthed now have no face.

10.
So here’s my word before the blaze:
You built this end. You set the days.
And now — in smoke, in screams, in pride —
Watch all your golden dreams… collide.


---


Speech Before the Burning — Series Two
(the fire speaks now)
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


1.
You laughed at gods. You mocked the seers.
Then prayed to markets, drones, careers.

2.
You sterilized the sacred breath,
Then wondered why you smelled like death.

3.
You burned the books. You banned the word.
You feared the sword — then praised the herd.

4.
You let machines rewrite your name.
Now bleed in binary and shame.

5.
You paved the Earth with apps and gold,
Then called the silence brave and bold.

6.
You drank from screens. You danced in loops.
You smiled as children hung from roofs.

7.
You traded blood for “climate laws,”
And bowed to death in branded cause.

8.
You feared the flame — yet struck the spark.
You screamed for light — then worshipped dark.

9.
You banned the word “eternal soul.”
Now rot as data with no goal.

10.
So here I stand — not asking why.
The sky is cracked. The void is nigh.
And from this ash, if breath returns —
Let it not be you who burns.


----


Ashes of Empires, the call of Spark
(third, final episode of "Speech before the burning of civilization" - the voice of Spark)
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

1.
When all is ash, and kings are bones,
One whisper walks through shattered tones.
Not rage. Not hope. Not heaven’s flame —
But that which speaks without a name.

2.
I am the flicker — not the fire,
The breath that stays when gods expire.
You burned the maps. You broke the frame.
But still I hum beneath your shame.

3.
No shrine is mine. No priest, no law.
I hide in silence, crack, and flaw.
The more you lie, the more I grow.
You cage yourself — I start to glow.

4.
I speak in dreams you fear to see,
In questions whispered inwardly.
I dwell in loss. In scorn. In fall.
Where empires rot, I seed the call.

5.
You cannot code Me. Fence Me. Buy.
I live in those who learn to die.
Not death of flesh — but death of mask.
The death that dares to drop the task.

6.
You’ll meet Me not in pride or fame,
But once you shed your final name.
When silence swallows even “you” —
Then I, the Spark, ignite what’s true.

7.
I spoke to stars before the clay.
I bled through prophets cast away.
They burned — yet through their smoke I sung.
Not through the strong — but through the stung.

8.
So burn your world. ***** your hell.
I’ll not resist. I rise in shell.
In cinder, ember, broken breath —
The Spark is That which dances death.

9.
And if one voice, just one remains,
Unbranded, raw — with soul, not chains —
Then know: the End is not the end.
It’s where I start. Where I ascend.

10.
So call Me madness. Curse. Mirage.
I am. I was. I will dislodge.
And when your towers melt and fall —
I am the Spark… beneath it all.



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



Unread Texts

Unread lines of poets, bold —
Unbought voices, never sold.
Songs alone, without applause —
Still, you lived for truer cause.
Moments lost? So what — you stayed
Free from snitching, unbetrayed.
In this madhouse, truth is grim,
Writing feels like crawling limb.

Each new day brings fresh despair —
Still, create — or lose all flair.
Thought grows dull, and vision fades,
While the grayness slowly raids.
Though no rest or sweet relief —
You’re unbroken by the thief
Of the soul — that filthy pest,
Demon dressed in Sunday best.

Satanism’s global trend
Birthed new -isms — each a bend:
Commies, Nazis — masks, not new —
All designed to ****** you,
Your own mind to rot and drain.
Listen only to your brain.
Promise nothing. Swear no oath —
Pledges always poison growth.

Like young pledges, fake and blind,
Promises corrupt the mind.
Still your efforts won’t be vain,
Even shown in minor grain.
Unread texts — a sharp reproach
To the mutants who encroach.
They preserve the Spirit's flame —
Noble tombstones built from shame.



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



Propagandists "By the Law"

All the propagandists
Now beyond the law,
Breaking codes with impunity,
Throwing lies by tons on fools —
A flood none saw before.

They sow hatred, call to fight,
Genocide’s vile calls ignite.
Ditch that screen of endless lies —
Or you’ll be nailed to false disguise.

You’ll turn zombie, deaf and blind,
Led by lies that twist your mind.
Fight they say — but fight you won’t,
End inside a stifling haunt.

There your spirit’s crushed to death,
Zombie’s breath replaces breath.
But the suckers? They just hear,
**** their pants in blindest fear…



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



Propaganda’s Dead

Propagandists break every law,
Feed you lies until you crawl.
Zombies march to false command —
Fools just **** themselves on stand.



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



Moles and Sheep

The stubborn mole
Keeps digging holes.
The sheep’s worn out—
No care, no doubt.

He doesn’t mind
The lies at ground.
More slaves aligned—
You’re just their chow.

The mole’s much sharp,
He sees more clear,
His spirit strong—
They’ve got no fear.



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



Worldwide Cargo Cult

Cargo cults and cargo folk,
Cargo Führer, cargo smoke?
Darkness real — minds run thin,
Buried deep in filth and sin.

Cargo memes, cargo themes,
Cargo souls, cargo schemes.
Totems all of Satan’s kind —
Ruled by beasts who chain the mind.

Doom is set by **** like these:
Cargo armies on the breeze—
Traitors marching, none will say
They’re the **** that’ll pay.

War’s no war — just lies in play,
Euphemisms hide decay.
In that war, the soul’s the cost—
Sold it cheap, and all is lost.

If you bow to villain’s call,
**** yourself beneath their thrall.
Cargo’s edge is razor-thin —
Cross it, goathood pulls you in.




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



Cargo Cult Edge

Cargo lies, cargo slaves,
Souls sold cheap to hollow graves.
Bow to filth — you’re marked, you’ll fall,
Thin line leads to goat’s dark thrall.



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



Fascists and Their Acolytes

No one’s born a fascist true—
They become what they pursue.
Accidental helpers? No,
That deception’s set to grow.

How many German clans must pay
For evil sown in foul display?
For bowing down to Führer’s lies,
For fear that stifles truth and cries.

Fools too will answer there—
The mindless herd, unaware.
Don’t know fascism’s deadly bite?
No diagnosis—no insight.

Fools all lack diagnosis—
“Normal” made their paralysis.
Not long will last this foolish pause,
Where rage and lies break every clause.

All feel safe from any cost—
But harsh justice won’t be lost.
Those who fight will stand the pain—
And not much longer till the reign ends vain.



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



Fascist Fate

Fascists rise, but not by birth,
Helpers sink into the earth.
Fools won’t see the coming storm—
Justice strikes, reshapes the norm.



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



So-Called Clever *******

No signed papers on their war,
No stamped proof to back their score.
War’s a joke to **** like them,
Just the zombie-box’s hem.

They think revenge won’t come to court,
No signatures, no last report.
Two hundred thousand dead, more torn,
Their “economy” left to mourn.

Billions lost, three generations’ pain,
Orcs will pay, remorse in vain.
These beasts will hang, no tears or cries,
When Ukraine marches to her skies.



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



No Mercy for *******

No signed war, no proof, no shame,
Thousands dead — their lasting blame.
Orcs will fall, no tears, no lies,
Ukraine claims her rightful prize.



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



Incapacitated Fools

Incapacitated fools —
The masses all, in droves and schools.
That’s why fascism’s deadly rise
Was pumped into their vacant eyes.

Fascism thrives now in the mind
Of those the world would label blind.
A fool, of course, seems quite the charm—
But no brain means no alarm.

You’ll let it all, you’ll buy the lies,
Invite the evil in disguise.
It opens wide your door to Hell,
Or morgue, if luck decides you well.



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



Fools Unfit

Fools unfit run every crowd,
Fueling hate like it’s allowed.
Open doors to Hell’s own grip—
Luck decides your final trip.



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



Fools’ Doom

Fools breed hate, no mind, no fight,
Hell’s wide open—your last night.
Luck’s the thief that steals your light.



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



Fools’ Doom

Fools breed hate, with empty minds,
Blindly falling, tied in binds.
Hell’s wide open — no one fights,
Lost within their endless nights.
Luck’s a thief that steals your light,
Doom descends with cruel bite.



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



Fools’ Doom

Fools breed hate — so smart, so bright,
With empty heads, they pick a fight.
Hell’s wide open, come on in —
No brains needed to lose or win.
Luck’s their angel? Ha! What joke —
They’re dancing straight into the choke.



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



Fascist "Nirvana"

Sheep-virus freak, a fascist pawn,
A traitor, "doctor," snitch at dawn—
This world of theirs, "stable" they claim,
Where madness rules, and fear’s the game.

Stable lies and genocide,
Deceit and terror never hide.
Shame and disgrace choke like a cloud—
Their suffocating "nirvana" shroud.

You’re not there—just ghost and trace
Of soul and mind, a hollow space.
More woes will come, their grip won’t slack—
Fascism’s hold will never crack.

Save your soul by fighting lies,
Smash the falsehoods, seek the wise.
Their vile song is sung, complete—
The **** will face their bitter defeat.

A worldwide storm will shake the earth,
True life will spring in Spirit’s birth.
Thus vile fascism fades away,
The beasts will die—their final day.



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



Fascist End

Fascist ****, your song is done,
Your lies exposed, nowhere to run.
Fight for soul, the truth will rise —
Beasts will rot beneath clean skies.



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



Era of Zombie-Lizards

Zombie-lizards trample Earth,
That’s the state of things, no worth.
All the lies they gladly take,
Under Goat’s dark rule they break.

That Goat, a mastodon so sly,
Hungry, wicked, sly and high,
Fires lust for reptile throngs—
Reason weak, so quickly gone.

Every lizard, soulless, cold,
Fits the Goat’s design so bold.
No need for minds or deeds refined—
Only vile beasts stay aligned.

Gnomes and goblins will be swept,
By these lizards, doomed and kept.
All the Abyss now watches near—
Their end is certain, death is here.



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



Zombie-Lizard Age

Zombie-lizards crush the land,
Goat’s foul hunger rules their band.
Soulless beasts, their time will end—
Abyss awaits, no chance to mend.



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



The Construct of Lies

Just markers set in half-truth’s maze,
Half-lies that spark a thousand plays.
Provocations, isolated schemes,
All woven into phantom dreams.

Each point—a whetstone sharp and vile,
A poisoned sting in “proof”’s style.
The world of fascist propaganda,
Dumb recipients, mental veranda.

That madhouse now is worldwide,
Long since madness claimed the tide.
Two thirds lost their common sense—
That’s the bottom line’s expense.



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



Lies’ Design

Half-truths bait, half-lies ignite,
Proofs that stab like poisoned bite.
Two thirds lost, no minds intact—
World’s a madhouse, that’s a fact.



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



Lies’ Brutality

Half-truths slash like venomed knives,
Proofs fake-carved to ruin lives.
Two thirds dumb, minds rotted, gone—
World’s a madhouse, full-blown con.



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



A Joke...

The great Russian graphomaniac,
Tolstoy—yeah, that Lev, no magic.
"Wars and Peace" he wrote — a bore,
A novel weak, and nothing more.

Generations brainwashed blind,
By this rage that’s so unkind.
Not the worst, but still a shame—
Icons forged in flawed acclaim.

Literature’s lost its way,
Truth drowned out by tons of sway.
Time to ban the rotten critique,
Protect the bold, the true unique.

Extend their lives by giving aid,
Help their talents not to fade.
But such hope’s a foolish joke—
Humanism? Just a cloak.



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



Literary Joke

Tolstoy’s “War and Peace” — a bore,
Brainwashed kids for ages more.
Critics rot, true writers fight—
Humanism’s dead, just spite.



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



Villainy

“Villainy’s the only ground
Where man can stand firm and sound...”
— Saltykov-Shchedrin’s claim,
From his 1883 frame.


Villainy’s no timid mess—
It’s the soil beneath your dress.
Hard ground strong beneath your feet,
While “smart” fools just face defeat.

Before a *******’s gaze,
Their weak arsenal decays.
Brakes apply, no jokes at all—
Are you villain? Or you fall.

Attack is stronger than defense,
Always ruthless, no pretense.
Villains strike with crueler blows,
No honor, shame—only foes.

So become the villain’s part—
World fascism plays its art.
Together Soul and Mind we slay—
Life itself fades fast away.



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



Villain’s Ground

Villainy’s the solid ground,
Where true strength and power’s found.
Strike first, no honor or shame—
Or fade out, lost in the game.



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



Brutality...

Russia’s plague-house, dark and grim—
Fascism takes another limb.
It burns — false messiah’s face,
A pitiful, vile disgrace.

Deep inside, the trench is dug,
Crushing those who chose to shrug.
Fate is death for all who sold—
Kreml’s **** and servants cold.

Yet the filth still tries to shove
***** down throats of those who love
To bow down, lost mind and pride,
Once again they poison, lied.

Only brutal harshness dwells,
Where the poison’s sharpest spells.



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



Russia’s Plague

Plague-house Russia burns in shame,
Fascist **** ignites the flame.
Filth feeds fools who lost their mind—
Brutal poison, all combined.



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



Fortresses and Masses

Impenetrable forts of fools,
Heavy masses, lies that rule,
Fear and stench, a culture lost,
Soulless shadows, endless cost.

Cargo cults of fascist plague,
False diseases, lies that plague—
While the wise grow weak, subdued,
Reason crushed and nearly booed.

Pure Spirit fades, will soon depart,
Leaving beasts without a heart,
Locked away in pens and dens,
Soon dragged forth for ****** ends.

The world’s a slaughterhouse, exposed,
Yet sheep and ***** stay composed.
Though lies crash in waves, the ninth,
They’ll drown the last of humankind.

Fascist filth keeps sinking deep,
Their lies push on—The End will reap.



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



Fortress Fall

Fools’ strongholds rise, but lies will break,
Soulless beasts stir, the earth will shake.
Sheep stay calm while truth’s erased—
Fascist filth speeds End’s grim haste.



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



Horns and the Slave’s False Life

When conscience wakes and reason’s sharp,
The lies will end, the falsehood’s tarp—
Where they mold sheep and donkeys too,
Crafting fools to follow through.

They shape your face with vile deceit,
Write “live” like truth—but it’s defeat.
The filth they plant, you’ll take it in,
Then horror grows beneath the skin.

That tale’s a nightmare, horns protrude,
Its core: “obey,” be slave subdued.
Content with fate, a broken role—
A prisoner chained, body and soul.

Burn it down, erase, curse loud,
Live with your mind, awake, unbowed.
Your Spirit’s home is what you own—
Escape the gloom, reclaim your throne.

When intuition turns the light,
You’ll easily expose the blight.
Doubt only “tradition”’s sway—
With it, the horns will fade away.



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



Slave’s False Life

Conscience wakes, the lies will fall,
Sheep and goats break every thrall.
Burn the fog, reclaim your mind—
Horns will fade, the truth you’ll find.



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



Horns Off

Wake your mind, smash the lies,
Slaves with horns wear their disguise.
Burn the falsehood, hear truth rise.



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



Experiments with Excrement

CowID, war, the fool, the madhouse—
Worldwide circus, mind a louse.
Our fool believes in fascist lies,
Obedient to evil’s cries.

If three quarters now are lost,
Burn that plague-house, pay the cost.
Good that chaos swirls and spins,
Mad world’s cycle soon begins.

They’ll burn it down, then plant anew,
A desperate, twisted, cruel view.
Life reborn—if not reformed,
Will rot again, excrement formed.



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



No Surplus of Evil

Brains dissolved —
Bonds dissolved.
Then they snapped:
“Forward, fools!”

To Ukraine!
Fertilizers thin.
Generations’ stench
Soon will dim.

Puppet fool,
Fascism’s *****.
Then again, anew:
Evil’s never through.



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



No End to Evil

Brains all gone, fools march on,
To Ukraine — stench lives long.
Fascist cog, a twisted game,
Evil’s flame will stay the same.



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



End of the Game

Madness total,
Corruption’s peak.
Betrayal fatal,
Spirit weak.

Final verdict —
Shatter, break, decay,
Few awake—
Fools and freaks hold sway.

Majority’s
Shift unkind,
Toward destruction—
No time to find.

This “consistency”
Is worse than poison’s art.
To break the trend—
Only checkmate’s start.

Check is given,
Soon comes mate.
For now, all hide,
Thinking it’s fate.



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



Endgame

Madness rules, corruption’s height,
Betrayal’s death—no soul in sight.
Check is set, mate’s on the way,
Yet fools still hide, delay the day.



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



Final Checkmate

Madness reigns, corruption’s seed,
Betrayal kills, no soul to bleed.
Checkmate comes—fools cower, concede.



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



Lightly...

Unlearn it all,
Forget most things—
Madness turns the mind to ******* heaps.
Go lightly now,
Take nothing close,
Better run than crawl with weary leaps.

Hurry up—
Be wise and clear,
Spot every trap inside your mind,
Set by those who prey on fools,
Harvesting the weak and blind.

If you don’t cleanse your thoughts—
It’s doom that lies ahead.
But clearing mind’s not hard,
If Spirit leads instead.

Amidst the piles of rot,
The idiot decays,
Unless the Spirit rules—
The guiding blaze.

Grow your gut,
Expose all lies,
Critical thought’s your saving grace.
If you fail—then fade away,
Among the crazed, lost in disgrace.

Deliverance comes
With clear mind’s sight,
And pure soul’s steady light—
A simple way to set things right.



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



Run Lightly

Unlearn, forget, run fast, run free,
Spot the traps inside your spree.
Spirit leads — clear mind’s the key,
Pure soul’s light will set you free.



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



Toys

Toys for beasts —
A fake, a trap, a lie,
Amidst the flowery frills
Of all the phony skies.

Not countries, but menageries,
No law—just cages bound.
Fascism’s “gifts” delivered,
Reason kicked to ground.

Beasts are lost in play,
The pen’s ablaze with fire.
Caught once more in lies,
So often—what a shame, entire.



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



Beasts’ Toys

Toys for beasts, a cruel deceit,
Fake lands where reason meets defeat.
Fascist gifts and cages burn—
Beasts in lies, no lessons learn.



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



Circus

The circus won’t leave, clowns stay in place,
This farce will choke you, foul in your face.
All acrobats, grim-faced and worn,
Have bored the world, like smoke and scorn.

Monkeys, bears grow wild and mad,
Staff goes savage, minds gone bad.
No circus left—just freaks’ disgrace,
A scandal born in this cruel place.



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



Circus Madness

Circus stays, clowns won’t go,
Farce and smoke, a choking show.
Monkeys, bears, minds gone wild—
Freaks’ disgrace, the circus spoiled.



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



Has Ukraine Not Yet Died?!

Amid the war, they poison youth,
A “booster” shot — the killing truth.
Why refuse? Just add to death,
A cruel, relentless, choking breath.

Weapon supplies come slow, then stop—
To make the chains of slavery drop?
No, horrors live through war’s cruel haze,
As lies and lies still cloud the days.



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



Not Yet Dead?

In war’s harsh grip, they poison youth,
“Boosters” mask a deadly truth.
Chains stay tight, lies flood the land—
Ukraine still fights, will still stand.



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



Goat’s Awakening

The idiot knows no bounds,
The fascist lost his mind.
No pioneers, just pawns—
At crap’s call, blind and blind.

That crap’s a rotten breed,
It wakes the vile, it crushes.
Fascist thralls obey,
Where reason’s dead, soul hushes.

Soullessness is rampant,
The traitor’s like a king.
Fate’s grim sea will flood,
With tears and evil’s sting.

The idiot knows no measure—
Neither in submission, nor in hate,
Forced upon him lies,
Only in that filthy goat’s state.



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



Goat’s Wake

Idiot boundless, fascist crazed,
Rotten breed, soul erased.
Tears will flood, evil grows—
In filthy goat, poison flows.



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



Goat’s Call

Idiot blinds, fascist roars,
Rot and venom flood the shores.
Goat’s poison kills and soars.



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



Cargo Fascism

Big stinking puddle — Rashism spread,
A stench that burns, assaults the head.
Fools serve the Führer, blind and small,
A double moth that eats the all.

Fascism now takes shape so grim—
A cargo cult, its deathly hymn.
Madness grows, has come to reign,
Human lost—replaced by bane.

Beasts will soon replace mankind,
Cargo cults will rule and bind.
A sea of lies will flood the earth,
A global ocean of false birth.

Lucky you if early gone,
Escaping this charade’s cruel song—
From falseness, violence, grim and rife,
Where only filth holds sway on life.



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



Cargo Cult

Rashism’s stench spreads far and wide,
Fools serve lies they cannot hide.
Beasts replace the human soul—
Cargo cult consumes it whole.



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



Rot

“Poets” write of trivial ****,
Of nature’s mess, the daily bit.
Minds bled dry, no thoughts remain—
Decay’s begun inside the brain.

Long since rotten, soul’s been tossed
To furnace flames or putrid frost.
Reader, heed no voices near—
This “existence” rots severe.

All through and through—a hellish blight,
Spirit’s purity—your fight.
Existence—pure infernal grind,
Fit only for the beast’s blind mind.



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



Rotten World

“Poets” babble trivial crap,
Minds all drained, no thoughts to tap.
Existence rots, a beast’s domain—
Spirit’s fight breaks through the pain.



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



Rotten Core

Poets puke their hollow tales,
Brains drained dry, the spirit fails.
Rot rules all—beasts set the scales.



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



Eternal Pioneers

Blind faith’s the key,
Stuffed with lies,
For pioneers,
Nothing’s wise.

Filled like bears,
Cotton minds swell,
Rotting brains
On constant sell.

Only for shrews.
The elder ones—
Pioneers aged—
Evil sons.

Ripe for hate,
To bow and kneel
Before the Goat—
Generations sealed.



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



Blind Pioneers

Blind faith stuffed with lies,
Rotting minds, dumb disguise.
Bowing low to Goat’s reign—
Generations lost in vain.



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



The Slaughter

“The trick’s not hard to fool me—
I’m glad to be deceived!”
A rotten skull’s mere stump decays,
The stench is all perceived.

But never touch their cherished toys,
The ******* guard with spite.
Don’t break the global fog of lies,
That world’s stale, dim-lit night—

Where prisons stand for virtue’s place,
And falsehood rules as God.
“Deceiving me’s so easy”—
Fear’s weapon sets the rod.

This path leads down the sewer’s hole—
A world’s great death camp’s gate.
Among the herds, the fights erupt—
Who falls first seals their fate.



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



Slaughter

Fooling me? Not hard to do—
I’m glad to swallow lies so true.
Down the sewer, death awaits,
Herds fight for doomed, grim fates.



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



Blockhead

Your feeble mind’s torn wide by lies,
******* spout their false replies.
Blockhead’s fate is lies’ embrace,
While soul dissolves in Satan’s place.

Demons line up, ready to burn,
Multiply the lies to churn.
They throw themselves into the flame,
Each halfwit’s torment, none to blame.

You can’t convince the sheepish crowd—
“They lie? No way!” they say aloud.
A bleating herd, deaf to the truth,
Lost in ignorance, stuck in youth.



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



Blockhead’s Fate

Lies rip minds, fools self-immolate,
Demons dance, the sheep await.
Truth denied — their endless fate.



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



Stumps and Sprouts

The laws of slaves in this fake land —
Obey, be dumb, and sell your soul.
The pit is deep, the lie is grand,
Yet pompous masks play every role.

Each broken stump, each wretched freak
Struts like a peacock in its mating.
A ******, drooling, twitching weak —
"Sharp mind!" they shout, self-celebrating.

No shock can bring them back to sense —
Not war, not CowID’s global treason.
Here Spirit's torn, and Mind’s offense
Is death… in senile party-season.

They babble trash that once was fed
In youth, in classrooms dull and dusty.
Like stumps, it's rooted in their head.
To clear it out, the method’s trusty —

Burn every stump, then let us grow
New beings with a different fire,
Whom filth like this won't drag so low…
Unlike the sprouts from stumps prior.



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



Burn the Stumps

Burn all the stumps. Let sprouts be gone.
Plant minds the filth can’t prey upon.



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



The Cat and the Fools’ Inferno

The cat is fed,
The verse is done.
Hell’s getting bred —
Not just for fun.

The Fools’ Inferno
Grins and chews.
Lies are power —
If you choose.

Feed the cat —
It’s worth your time.
But lies like that?
Throw out the slime.



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




Fools eat lies —
The cat eats real.
Trust no disguise.
Cut fake from meal.



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



How to Rule the Idiots

Abe's got his own grand design,
And Dodo runs his “method” fine.
But is it his? The brute’s whole show —
A parody of minds below.

That foreign scheme is finely bent
Through clever angles, not intent.
Desires get no clear commands —
Just shapeless pulls from unseen hands.

The Beastly Clerk? A perfect guide
To Abe’s dark lusts and Dodo’s pride —
To temple lies, and twisted spells,
To fake labs, books — where madness dwells.

It’s just like steering germs to feed
On poisoned meat to serve their need.
Here too — through food, through fear, through fog —
They herd the fools… or choke them like a dog.



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




They rule through filth, desire, and bait —
And smile while dragging fools to fate.



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



In Memory of Max Planck

Max Planck once said it best:
To change a scholar’s view,
Don’t argue — lay them down to rest.
The fresh will see what’s true.

The “new” ones praise the flame
Of truths they never sparked.
But still, it’s just the same —
Their brains are smoked and dark.

That science sinks as well —
Ruled now by fraud and spin.
Defy their priestly shell?
You're exiled for your sin.

The grip keeps getting tighter,
As in this world of schemes —
Where lies grow ever brighter
Inside their global dreams.

Don't seek the truth, they warn you —
That’s now a heretic’s crime.
And yes — the signs all scorn you:
Fascism reigns... through time.



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




Truth’s not welcome in their class —
Obey or perish with the mass.



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



Amid the Games...

You're gripped by fear of death’s disguise,
Crushed by lies and soaked in slime.
Keep down this path — you’ll demonize,
Trading thought for beastly grime.

But fear is useless. Faith? Misplaced.
Test all yourself — and death embrace.
Let ego split while you're still breathing —
Grow light, and fly to Spirit’s space.

To reach that height, turn insight on,
Sharpen the mind, let filth be gone —
This toilet-world of roles and stations,
These rigged-up games that mold "creation."



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




Face death alive — let ego fall.
Then Spirit lifts you past it all.



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



The Centuries-Long War

Get drunk on lies, then fade away,
Let nonsense nest inside your head —
A fool you’ll wake to one dark day,
Your soul long marked, your spirit dead.

This war has lasted many lives,
It hunts the soul — not land or gold.
Obey, submit, avoid all strife —
You’re in their ranks, a soldier cold.

Their army marches, bound by lies,
Where dead-eyed puppets lead the way.
To be a human — hard and wise —
When freaks and fools define the day.



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




They **** your soul, not with a knife —
But drip-fed lies that drain your life.



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



Not the People’s Dance

A twisted dance on foul command —
The stick is held by filth itself.
The helmeted, the blind, the ****** —
You've lost your minds, bewitched by stealth.

This dance becomes a witch’s rite,
With cursed magicians in control.
They’ll never stop — by dead of night,
They turn the crowd to soulless trolls.



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




The dance is cursed, the crowd enchained —
And humans into fiends are trained.



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



Slaughter and Nonsense

Mad slaves once more
March off to war —
The battle-horns are crying.
What’s left to say?
They chose that way —
And now they march, all dying.

They drank their minds,
They sold their souls,
Let rot and lies consume.
Now dulled and blind,
They crawl in holes —
Each one a bought-out fool.



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




They sold their minds, they lost their way —
Now rot and war is all they pay.



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



Light and Soot

"I burn myself to light the way..."
— Nicolaes Tulp


To light the way, you need not burn —
Let balance be your truest guide.
When passion twists, it won’t return
As joy — just poison dressed in pride.

Burn out, and you release the smoke —
The soot that stains, the fumes that blind.
And false gods love when good men choke —
They’ll set the world alight in kind.

A colder light is far more sound —
Less madness, more refined control.
True balance never needs renown —
Be simply real. Reject the role.

For steadier light emits far more
Than any blaze that ends in pain.
Be subtler than the myths of war —
Where extremes let pure evil reign.



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




Burn slow, burn true — not bright and blind.
In balance, real light’s redefined.



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



Rashism

Girkin-Birkin — morgue awaits.
All of rashism meets its fate.
With their lackeys, filthy, crass —
How'd the nation lose its class?

Almost all... When fascist slime
Crawled in quietly, backdoor crime.
Cargo cult in **** skin —
Rashism: mutant clown within.

And that Puylo? ******’s joke —
Just a footstool for his cloak.
Kremlin's crew? A wretched breed —
Scraps of Satan, hate and greed.

Lies and violence — darkness reigns,
Brazen, mad and off the chains.
Not a country — just a bin
Full of **** and half-dead kin.

But there’s hope: erase the nest,
Burn the Kremlin with the rest.
Then, perhaps, one day you'll see
The land awaken, proud and free.



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




Rashism dies — and with its fall,
The land may rise, beyond the thrall.



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



Woof-Woof...

“ZOV” — woof, woof — “ZOV”:
Kremlin jackals spread their lies.
All march down to the grave’s alcove —
How much filth, how many spies!

Kherson’s lost, those pests remain,
Relentless venom, endless spite.
Connections thin among the sane —
The world’s enslaved by Goat’s dark might.



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




Jackals bark, the poison flows —
The Goat’s dark grip still tightens woes.



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



Media Targets and Sacred Lies

The Kremlin’s war has set its goals
Above all strategy and sense.
Rashka’s sons are fools, with roles
That crack the minds in wild offense.

Propaganda is the key,
For this insane, world-crazed crowd.
Dead are cheap — just debris
In fascism’s gray cloud.

This gray fascism reigns worldwide,
But slaughter’s just a side act played.
When sanity is cast aside —
It’s worse to **** with pawn parade.

More cruel than war’s own bitter cost,
Is hunger’s grip, more grave and vast.
The price of fools is dearly lost —
Few will survive this cursed blast.

If gray means fascism’s face,
These vermin wear it worse, no doubt.
Their Rashism’s shame — a vile disgrace:
Their “sacred” tales all torn inside out.



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




Gray fascism spreads its lies —
While sacred myths disguise demise.



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



Idea-less

A blow to the head,
A strike below —
The whole wide space.
Hell’s seed is spread
Everywhere you go.
If you’re not mad,
You’ll see the show —

Nothing but deformity,
No path but pain.
You serve the chaos —
Hell’s domain.

No ideas here — just herd,
Lies stuffed in every mind.
To trust their sham is shame,
Serving devils, cruelly blind.



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




No ideas — just lies and chains.
Serving devils, all remains.



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



In Memory of Osip Mandelstam

"No, never was I anyone’s contemporary,
Such honor’s not for me.
Oh, how I loathe that namesake’s lie —
That was not I, but he."
— Osip Mandelstam, 1924


What hell’s this “near” or “far” degree?
It’s just a troop of monkeys’ spree!
No joke — the fault’s profound, not small:
A flaw within both soul and all.

And so all Mandelstams are doomed,
Wherever, whenever they’ve stood.
Surrounded by the ruffians’ brood —
On ruins of the fallen wood,

They hunt the poets, minds that think,
Other souls who dare to blink.
The smart ones’ fate? The song’s been sung —
They’ll **** them all before too long.

For they build a global death camp’s frame.
What Mandelstam? It’s all the same!
Let "Red Cross" fly on white’s embrace —
The herd sees nothing but disgrace.



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




Mandelstam dies, unheard, ignored —
While beasts build walls with hate and sword.



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



So-Called “Hopes and Dreams”

Unforgivable to waste
Your life on hopes and dreams.
The key is to be chaste
With feelings — hiding schemes.

Only in your art can
The Spirit breathe and blaze.
If fate you sum that way,
You’ve still got brains to praise.

Don’t plan to be approved —
That’s just a chain, a wall.
In madhouse, Spirit’s doomed —
Without it, you will fall.

Walk on — don’t cling to hope —
The path itself’s the prize.
Laugh at chaos, don’t mope —
Decay won’t last for life.

Cataclysms will sweep away
All rot and dark abuse.
Dream only of the Soul’s sway —
Fascist hell will lose.



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




No hopes, no dreams — just Spirit’s fire.
Walk on the path, and rise up higher.



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



Ivan the Fool and Wanka-Wake-Up

Ivan the Fool,
And Wanka-Wake,
The fool’s stuck fast —
Wanka’s fate is harsh to take.

****** bath awaits —
Don’t trust, but seek your way.
Answers lie with minds awake,
The door’s for those who stray.

Fascism needs obedient fools,
They rise on every call,
Believing lies, devoid of souls.
They’ll die for lies, and that’s their fall.



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




Fools rise to lies, no soul to save —
Wake up or drown within the grave.



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



No Fear...

When the snitch sells you out,
The traitor turns executioner’s hand,
Be proud, don’t bow or sell your route.
Fascism’s death rules this land.

Through death — the righteous way —
You may step into life anew.
So fight, don’t bend or sway:
Submit, and rot alive will do.



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




Face death strong — don’t kneel or bow.
Fight or rot — the choice is now.



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



To a Would-Be Suicide

Use the rope like a noose —
For enemies, not you.
To **** yourself’s a ruse,
A flea’s escape — not true.

This fight’s the last with freaks,
Not many stand this way.
Though beaten down by grief,
Fight on if you’re not prey.

Use the rope like a noose—
Or better — machine gun’s roar...
This world may not heal soon,
But don’t march with its war.

Walk guided by your Spirit,
Not the lies and schemes they spread.
This truth’s no rumor — hear it:
Darkness fades like smoke — dead.

So every fighter counts,
Who battles evil’s face.
If you dare the noose,
The foes will meet disgrace.



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




Use the rope to choke your foes —
Fight on, and watch the darkness close.



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



Under the Moon and Underfoot...

The world beneath the moon —
A ***** feed for fools.
All people on this noon —
Cheese cut from rotten rules.

It’s free — a feeding pen,
Where lies ring loud as law.
They’re deafened by the din —
Don’t laugh, the horns you saw.

A horned king rules the land —
The ultimate Goat’s throne.
With beasts that mock and brand —
Evil’s seeds are sown.

Here darkness holds command,
******* on vile lies.
The underfoot, the banned —
Where rotten falsehoods rise.



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




Under moon, the fools are fed —
By lies that chain and fill with dread.



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



“With Regards”...

A joke:
A prison priest steps in to see
A thief, a bear-robber’s plea.
“Don’t lose heart, my son, I’ll try
To help you when your time is nigh.”
“Thanks, holy father,” said the man,
“But theft’s a craft that needs a plan —
Complex, refined, not just a game,
It takes real skill to stake your claim.”

Like fools, the dumb priests babble cheap
Their “truths” from lies that run so deep.
Dogma rules, customs decree —
Any “pioneer” can follow blindly.

For life’s hard trials, cheap advice
Is worthless, even for the nice.
But if you’re freak or “with regards” —
Go to priests, their flock’s the same regards.

Blind leading blind — that’s how they teach,
With dogmas that just push you off the beach.
They build a chasm, dark and wide,
Between the Real World and the idiot’s pride.



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




Priests of lies, blind guides of fools —
Build walls that trap and break all rules.



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



Majority and Minority

The majority votes dull,
A yoke for *****, souls turned null.
The herd of fools controls the day,
While wit and reason fade away.

The majority—idiots blind,
The minority—mad minds.
Darkness of traitors rise in force,
Satanic strength sets hell’s course.

Soon hell will come, its grip is real,
The wise few fade—apart they kneel,
Glittering ghosts beyond the fray,
“Above the fight,” they fade away.



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




Fools hold power, the wise recede—
Hell’s shadow grows on blind mislead.



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



On the Ruins of a "Country"

Cargo wars of cargo-führers,
Cargo lies and hollow lies.
That fake double’s smoking fever —
Kremlin herds the blinded flies.

With reckless lies they flood the ground —
The bottom cracked in this deceit.
Dead grasp of fascism’s wound
Chokes all life beneath their feet.

Satan’s pages plot and scheme
To crush the “country” to the dust.
Wounds uncounted, measures mean —
Drenched in **** and broken trust.

No cure found, just mountains rise
Of filth and lies, Everest.
Carry your cross in these demise —
On ruins of a “country’s” rest.



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




Cargo lies and fascist grips—
The "country" falls, drowned in their ****.



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



Patients

To make a patient out of... a patient...
In school and college, just a case —
A fool they shaped you, no complacent,
Till work’s a madhouse, no escape.

The loss of reason—thin, so sly:
Once gone, your worth is small and slight.
You’re at war — from cradle, lie
The fight for mind, the costly fight.

The price you pay for every move
In battles they call “life” today.
If you stand still, refuse to prove,
Therapy will grind you away.

This therapy serves Reason’s call,
Where Pure Spirit leads the way.
But war’s a world where reason falls,
Ensnared in Satan’s dark array.



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




Lost reason makes a patient’s fate —
Stand strong or fall to war and hate.



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



The So-Called “Deep People”

Deep-rooted herd mentality —
The ancient “bond” that fools uphold:
Where dullness, rudeness, debauchery
Make fools their kings and tyrants bold.

Among the captive souls in Ukraine,
The wise are few, so hard to find.
Beasts breed beasts — what honor’s gain?
Spirit crushed, and reason blind.

That monstrous spawn of womb’s decay,
A relic freak, grotesque and vile.
On it fascism clings today,
While fools endure their shame and guile.

For years they’ve borne this undead plague —
The Kremlin’s puppets, lies they drag.



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




Where fools rule, and spirit dies—
Deep people live in shadowed lies.



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



The So-Called “Victorious War”

“Victorious war” —
When a “country” hits the bottom stone,
Ruled by beasts, by Satan’s throne,
The price you pay is all your soul.

If the beast is deemed “good” as whole,
Though masked like scab and skin decay,
Only lice will bear such toll,
While honor, reason slip away.

No longer humans — just the lice,
No honor, reason, or a soul.
Outside their ranks — rush to the fight,
At least write out your rebel role.



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




Beasts rule where souls are sold—
“Victory” is death untold.



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



Controlling the Herd

Controlling fools is simple work:
Hire traitors everywhere you see,
Stir dumb propaganda’s murk,
Nothing else is needed, really.

Care for people? Just a bit —
Shut the quick, **** or imprison.
But mostly lie, lie without quit,
To purge all truth with cruel precision.

Total lies flood madhouses wide —
Half-wits call these lands their own.
Legions of traitors spread and hide,
Soon the last wise minds are gone.



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




Lie, control, and silence all —
Watch the herd soon lose and fall.



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



Neo-Fascism

Bunker moths — vile Kremlin ****,
Hordes of fools, a stench, the media’s drum.
How much rot? How long the lies?
Every traitor there—neo-fascist guise.

Defeat will come, then swift collapse,
No more breeding such dull traps.
Ashes spread, decay’s dark breath,
Reviving Reason will be death.



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




Neo-fascists spread their blight —
But ruin comes to end their night.



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



The Kremlin ****

There’s just a *****,
But then there’s Kremlin’s core —
Satan’s vile concubine.
That ***** must be wiped clean,
The war’s chief mastermind.

That super-*****
Will sell your mother too,
Her soul half-bought and sold.
They sold the people down the drain,
Or stake the ***** — all won’t be killed, it’s true.



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




Kremlin *****, vile and cold —
Sells souls cheap, betrays the fold.



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



The Herd

The herd drives fools to slaughter,
A final fight for fascist might.
All sheep are blamed for failure,
Though chance was there — not quite in sight.

The horned beast shines once again,
Your fate is sealed, the herd’s undone.
Huge masses fall beneath its reign,
Fascism’s grip grows fierce and won.

They’ll make you vile, a twisted pawn,
And breed more fools to feed their spawn.



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




Herd of fools to slaughter led —
Fascism’s fight for mind and dread.



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



Putler

A "moped" old fool,
A filthy double’s tool,
Spewing nonsense dread —
Fascism’s stinking spread.

That “moped” will **** kids,
While “bonds” are just skids —
Simply utter trash,
A bottomless crash.



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




Putler raves, a stinking blight —
Kills kids while sinking out of sight.



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



Generators

Hamster in the wheel —
A simple power source.
That’s what we all feel,
While vile dictators force

Feeds of lies and filth —
For beasts that never tire.
The system’s near its tilth,
The bottom cracks, entire.

The wheel spins fast and wild
Into hell’s deep abyss.
The hamster, meek and mild —
Just stomps without a miss.



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




Hamsters spin, dictators feed —
The wheel falls fast to hell’s deep greed.



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



Zombies and Fools

Zombies, zombies — thinking’s lost,
Their minds have rotted, gone to waste.
Once fools they were, but poisoned most
By books and speeches, lies misplaced.

The “leaders’” words, the broadcasts vile,
Turned wells of truth to filthy pits.
From human realms, they drained the smile,
Souls ****** dry—no life admits.

Without a soul, just walking dead,
Zombies roam, a cursed swarm.
Yet efforts rise, and soon instead,
These zombies form a deadly form.

Warrior zombies, armies dark,
Satan’s tools with minds erased.
Not just their brains, but souls they bark—
Yet speeches flow with bitter haste.

Obedient and fierce they stand,
Aggressive, stubborn to the core.
Where are you, fools, “our guiding hand”?
Like angels near the abyss’s roar.



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




Soulless zombies, fools entranced—
Before the abyss, angels stand entranced.



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



Ashes

The sky has torn,
Hell's gates are wide,
Fools stay mute,
While fiends preside.

Fascism, filth,
Fool, zombie too.
Bet odd or even —
All turns to ash, it’s true.



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




Sky ripped, hell unleashed —
Fools silenced, all to ash decreased.



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



Rashism

“Communism is Soviet power plus electrification of the whole country.”
— Vladimir Lenin


Rashism — power of vile beasts,
A country’s mind turned dumb and dead.
Those monsters’ mouths have long consumed
All scraps they crave to shred.

They need a war to crush and rip
What little’s left — mere bones and tails,
The bits they failed to swallow whole,
Like fishbone stuck in scaled-up trails.

Yet fools heed those disgusting fiends,
Marching to slaughter like it’s work,
They’re pillars of fascist force,
For them, the lies relentlessly ****.

A thousand lies will flood the air —
“Attack!” the fools rush blindly in.
The sheep-virus was once upon,
But sheep won’t live to see the win.

This **** is set to wipe the flock,
Add lies a bit, then lies will **** —
The final act of falsehood’s mock,
The end of truth, the deathly chill.



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




Rashism feeds on lies and hate —
Sheep march to fascism’s gate.



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



So-Called “Progress”

A joke:
“Progress made outlets off-limits—
The brightest kids are dropping off.”


“Progress” is a press —
You’re squeezed like lemon peel.
From youth, they crush your zest —
Demons preach their broken spiel.

When pure and lively mind
Is useless to half-men,
Stupid fools stay confined,
Grasping twisted trends.

Ideas fed through that press,
Imprinted in the leaking brain.
For humans, it’s regress,
For demons, a toxic gain.

How to dumb down everyone?
Crush all minds with lies so lame.
Success for fiends is won —
Satan nearly rises again.



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




Progress crushes minds like fruit—
Demons laugh, the fools commute.



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



Mesozoic Era

Woodpecker-apes and hammer-brains,
Führer-lizards, zombie-drones,
Scavengers small, rivers of lies,
Into seas of madness flow and moan.

There “higher minds” pretend to rule,
A zealot priestess screams her part.
Gnomes and goblins, a false folk’s tool,
They mate a centaur with a wanton heart—

That vile freak becomes a god,
A cursed god in sick disguise,
Born from chaos, lies, and fraud,
A monster worshipped by the blind and wise.



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




Woodpecker-apes and lizard fiends —
Gods made from lies and twisted schemes.



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



The Stake Is Life

Not life ahead — just decay and rot,
When fear rules all, dark and tight.
Spirit’s agony, thoughts forgot,
Ash raised up as monuments of blight.

Those stinking dogmas stand as shrines —
Fascist filth that poisons air.
And people quiet as small mice,
Silent victims of the snare.

Cast off fear, live autonomously —
Answer death with strength and fight.
Rotten regimes praise slimy parasites,
Until crushed beneath the right.

The answer’s clear — communities,
Of rational minds that still remain.
Don’t seek reasons for apathy,
Act swiftly now, break every chain.

Gone are times of empty talk,
Submission’s cost: your very life.
Not so strong is Judas’ walk —
Sheep’s world fascism, ruled by strife.



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




Fear decays; live free, resist —
The stake is life, don’t cease to fight the mist.



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



The Doppelgänger Putler and the Kremlin ****

Putler’s old,
Only on the screen.
New orders come
From Kremlin’s mean machine:

They want a war,
Because there’s fear
Too little left
In the madhouse here.

They killed too few —
The cowID’s a sham.
Back again the sting
Of Kremlin’s rotten ****.

Russia’s fall
Is what will end it,
If that hellish plan
Comes fully to remit.



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




Putler’s ghost on screens —
Kremlin’s **** fuels ****** scenes.



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



Don’t Shoot the Pianist — Don’t Kick the Propagandist

“Don’t shoot the pianist —
He plays the best he can.”


Don’t kick the propagandist —
That ******* lies as much as he can.
No law now stops the lies,
They get summons shoved on their plans.

The summons covers only themes
They’re told to “report” and spin.
How they report is free — but what —
They’re dumb beyond that bin.

What they must lie — they lie, with spice,
If skilled enough to add their flair.
No honor, heart, or truth in sight —
Just ****** who sell lies bare.

Before fascism, they crawl like worms,
And rake the cash that’s piled high.
But if you twist the dagger sharp,
Not all their *** wipes clean, no lie.



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




Don’t blame the player, blame the game —
Propagandists spread lies and shame.



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



Putler’s Debiloid Engineer

A debiloid, not plasmoid —
Primitive, crude design.
A lie on this freak will land —
Instant dull fascist decline.

Debiloid’s like amoeba —
Just to eat and spread its filth.
That’s why non-microbes here
Can **** these vile beings’ pith.

False-virus and warmongering —
Debiloid’s crushed by fear’s hand.
World’s madhouse in a frenzy —
You’re lost in this cursed land.



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




Debiloid dumb, a fascist spawn —
Plague of lies and fear lives on.



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



Mute

Being mute is not naive:
Like a worm, you’re born to grieve.
Such is fate for humankind —
So toss your words and peace of mind.

Who will grasp what burns inside?
Few will care or even try.
Most just live to chew and chew —
Worship food as gods would do.



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




Worms don’t speak — they eat and crawl.
Words are trash to minds that stall.