how many generations can
lay with you in your bed?

Matriarch Mama,
honorific due you,
title earned, not learned,
and now a teaching PhDs  of
Matriachal Science

let us have tea,
a tea party in you garden,
and the granddaughters
dressed in their church finest,
running noisy but that's ok,
mass is over, and the party
is now a backyard affair

me, a recorder,
standing in the corner,
invisible observing,
leaning on that old banyan tree,
smile playing on
my eyes,
counting
cousins daughters sisters,
and best of the best,
grand babies wilding in their Sunday finery,
even seeing
invisible fathers standing beside me,
but espy only one

Matriarch Mama,
sallying forth,
gunslinger of poetry,
nobody messes with Sally,
she is the brood defender,
poetess not
of the day

she is a
generational inscriber,
an author of a
gene pool of life's best,
her existence,
from heaven, sent a manna,
to feed-across-time
just one family,
an ordinary,
if such there was,

**Matriarch Mama

UNDERDOG RAP

We are a population which is
Awaiting loaves and the fishes
And other unfulfilled wishes;
No chance to know what rich is,
While graduates are digging ditches
Immigrant PhDs are doing dishes.
Never quite knowing which is
Snake oil salesmen pitches.
Politicians too big for their britches.

Fools don’t know where the hitch is
Whatever the larcenous pitch is;
Reacting with kneejerk twitches
Due to governmental glitches.
And creeps like that guy Mitch is
Are rapacious sons of *******
Hunting for Democratic witches
In all the freedom fighting niches
With hearts as black as pitch is.

And the rich have a wish list
In which they scratch their itches
Regardless of what our ***** is
By wallowing in stolen riches
Punishing watchdogs snitches.
Politicians too big for their britches.
We are a population which is
Awaiting loaves and the fishes
And other unfulfilled wishes.
No chance to know what rich is.

Brent Kincaid

March 19, 2015

Thugs
Go to Stanford.

And the construction workers
I've seen
Are more likely to spend
Their downtime playing
Video games
Then smoking the ****.

And I've seen my
Fair share of manic,
Wide-eyed young Filipinos
Like myself,

A little browner,
A little more beautiful,
I'm a little more racist
But

It's not okay.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

I guess what I simply want to say
Is there is a simple joy
To watching fingers
Of all kinds
Mold and shape futures,

Whether it be in the form
Of softened concrete slabs
Or the hard writ
Of word,

Whether it taste
Of exhaust smoke
And leather

Or orange juice
The school
Is the sky

The blue sky and the
Fields and university
Is a gold-ringed
Fist and in this

Respect we all have
Our PhDs.

And as for this sheltered
Unsheltered rooftops
Holed like ozone
World we've all built together
Well,

We try to find words for it
And collapse.

When I walk down the street and a man calls me 'Sweet ****'
With his wedding ring clad hand resting on the rolled down window of his SUV
I am supposed to like it
Fat girls should be grateful someone wants them, after all
Women should be grateful for the attention of strangers
Women are taught to be sponges
Domestic and silent and absorbing the words of men around them
If a woman talks 30 percent of the time
A man will feel like she is dominating the coversation
A man calling a woman 'baby' on a street corner is a compliment
But a teenage girl saying a celebrity has nice eyes is fetishizing
Men are taught that they are the default mode
While women are taught to make room
Men sit with their legs spread and elbows out on subway trains
Women tuck their ankles together and rest their hands in their laps
The great crime of patriarchy though
Isn't the way it affects how men feel about women
But how women feel about women
Like every great dystopian novel on the planet
We are taught to hate ourselves and hate each other
Because that will keep us distracted from the real problem
The richest woman in the world  makes one sixth what the richest man makes
Girls are still afraid to speak up in classrooms from first grade to PHDs
No one listens when we start talking
So we start screaming
And everyone just tells up to shut up
And stop being so **** sensitive

It was going to be a beautiful Saturday morning - and the wind was still. Wind mattered because Peter and I had borrowed a friend's lime green Fiat and trekked 30 minutes north to play the Lufbery (frisbee) disc course. We teed-off just after sunrise. It’s a beautiful, wooded course. I used to be a frisbee-golf addict and I’d brought my gear to Yale - but only managed to play twice. I finished 8-under (for 18 holes) and Peter earned a little participation, something or other, to be awarded later.

Peter lives in a doctoral frat-house they call doc-house (the 8 guys who live there are all doctoral students). It’s a typical frat house, remarkably dark and filthy. Every surface seems carpeted and there’s a dizzying cocktail of smells - old beer, dust, pizza, cigars, whisky, popcorn, cigarettes and *** - ugg! Yes, If you need to carouse, this is the house. You hear, “You’re in the DOC-HOWWSE!” (said like dog-house) when a group of new girls show up.

In the basement, there are arm chairs that I’m sure haven’t been cleaned since someone in the class of 1955 spilt beer on them. If I sit on one - and I try not to sit on one - I keep my arms crossed in my lap so they don’t even touch the armrests. Peter’s room is clean - I had a service come to clean it (and the shared 2nd floor bathroom) before he moved in. I got him a new mattress and topper too.

My favorite of his roommates is called “Melon” (His real name is Milton). He’s a big guy, 6’3”~ish and probably 450 pounds. He’s the sweetest guy but a slob in the classic, Chris Farley mold. Peter says he already has two PhDs (One in ‘computational mathematics’, a second in ‘mathematical modeling’) and he’s working on a third in ‘decision sciences.” He owns doc-house, having bought it when the owner hinted at moving to Florida.
“Melon makes a bag-and-a-half consulting,” Peter explained, admiringly.

The house is on a wooded hill and the driveway, about 400 feet long, goes straight uphill. One time, I’d brought a couple of bags of groceries and Melon, as usual, came bounding out of the house to help me. The uber could only get half way up the crowded drive and by the time Melon got to the car he was completely out of breath. I half expected I’d have to give him CPR, but he rallied after a couple of minutes - talking non-stop, all the while - and leaning heavily on the Uber which ran up my bill (I found it endearing).

Back to my story (a lot of that was background). Peter and I were going to Geronimo’s (a Mexican restaurant). I was sweaty from golfing, so I decided to shower. I’m showering away and I hear the bathroom door open (I’d absolutely locked it). So, I assumed it was Peter. The next thing I hear is someone taking a loud ****. Then the guy starts humming - and it wasn’t Peter.

There I was, shower running, behind a flimsy, opaque-plastic, flowered shower curtain. What now? I was thinking. “Occupied!?” I said loudly, like a question - standing stock-still naked.

“Fukk” I hear him say, “Sorry, sorry, SORRY - I thought you were one of the guys!” he said, flushing, dashing out and slamming the door.

I waited a moment, killed the water, wrapped up, climbed out of the shower and wrapped my hair in a second towel while leaning against the door. It had been locked - well, the little *** was pressed in anyway. I picked up my stuff and dashed across the hall to Peter’s room.

Peter was propped up on his bed with his laptop as I rushed in, closed the door and leaned on it. “The lock on the bathroom door doesn’t work,” I said in a rush.
“Did something happen?” he asked, looking up.
“No,” I said - thinking about it, “Not really,” and I started to towel dry my hair.
That’s when I noticed that his index finger was turning back on itself in a “come hither” motion. Then it occurred to me that, wound as I was, in a small white towel, I might look like a loosely wrapped participation trophy.

Sometimes you face an army of desires - without armor.

Some poets have degrees,
Be they Bachelors or Phds.
But a poet, a poet is really qualified by experience,

And the ability to distil language to the dance of written form,
To transpose observations into song.
Etching stretches of moments too short,

Into something long enough to match the longing for it.
Weaving yearning with touches of genius,
Abstracting epiphanies from cracks in the pavement,

Extending the halls of learning by
Stencilling truths onto toilet walls,
So that even to **** is to experience the profound.

A poet is one who can make meaning out of madness,
Pluck obscurities from the air, exposing the  bindings of being,
Or explain how words, in their whirling make the world go round.

But a poet,  a poet does not understand that ache inside,
That ache that drives them to write, to whisper and to yell
Words, metaphors and similies, in the constant attempt

To quantify that special kind of hell,
That haunts them, as ravings in their head,
That inspiration that is their constant torment.


And sometimes, sometimes its heaven instead,
But that’s when it’s hardest to write
Because suffering, when transformed to stanzas,

Is somehow easier to ignite
Than that intangible something we call joy.
For something as simple as a smile

Cannot be matched by any extravaganza
Of words no matter how we try.
But a poet,  a poet will spend lifetimes trying

To describe that very sensation, that fleeting
Sense of something greater than oneself, greater,
Even than the offerings left in ink at the poet’s
Altar of a page.

And sometimes it will be so hard, this attempt to transcribe
Emotion into a form decipherable to others  
That the poet will feel only rage,

And exhaustion,
Till even the point of the pen begins to expire
But a poet, a poet, even in the pits of despair,
Does not retire,

For there, lingering somewhere
Above in the air, is a glimmer of truth
Just waiting to be shared.

I could live in your lap
But I rather reside somewhere deeper
I could live in your mind
But I rather make you feel me some place sweeter
Miss me like you never saw me
Want me like its what you never had
Both graduated with PHDs
Speaking knowledge when those head games are applied
I could submit to my knees
But I need to look into the eyes of the one..
I crave more of you than just fun
Quick nights and games with our tongues
Let the raw truth follow
After one night comes tomorrow
Then those lust filled lies become that much more hard to swallow
So until then..let me hold this lock
With infatuated anticipation hoping
You will insert your key inside my Pandora's Box
Get me off with the thoughts and energy of your touch and actions
Cause contractions inside the walls only you know
But you have yet to let it be known
That your lap is where I call home...

It’s a time payment concept
With compounding interest
That gets harder every year
And puts faith to the test.
It’s brokered by agents with
PhDs in fancy double-talk
That everything is God's will
And you’re not allowed to balk.

It’s sort of like the tax people
Only the rules are not so fixed;
No good calling attorneys up
That’s action’s definitely nixed.
The deal is that you can’t win
And must suffer with piety;
Give your money and thanks
To a fat cat you cannot see!

In exchange you get to go to
Play dress-up every Sunday
And pray for the senselessness
God is supposed to take away,
Or maybe remove diseases
That **** the good and innocent.
But you’re allowed to pray that
Your Lotto ticket wins you a mint!

Either way, you’re blameless
When it gets to be holiday time
And nothing changes as politics
Becomes the scene of the crime.
So drop another couple of coins in
Some sd homeless person’s hat,
Because God will take care of them,
And that’s where religion is at.

In numerology twelve has special meanings - they’re twelve days of Christmas, twelve months in a year, and Taylor Swift’s had twelve number-one albums. All we care about at Yale, are the twelve days until Thanksgiving break. This semester has seemed as long as waiting in line at the DMV, or holding one's breath under water.

My roommates and I are like family, heck, we spent last summer together. The combinatorics of eight girls bonding as tightly as we have are redorkulous. We’re not Disney-family, of course, at times there seem to be too many noisy, unruly, competitive and occasionally combative kids in the car and university life has its unforgiving undercurrents too.

Success can seem fleeting, to students at the top levels academically - as fleeting as the last quiz - and in this environment, where every paper is expected to be unique and brilliant, the stresses are multiplied. We’ve been told, since we were six, how important grades are, we’ve slaved tirelessly to master our numbers and letters and we’re continuously and rigorously evaluated, as we ascend our various academic ladders.

All the while, ticking and bomb-like, is the knowledge that there are only ‘X’ number of seats in med-schools, law-colleges and associates hired on wall street. The result is, we can be wounded, deeply, by a red pencil mark or the most casual, conversational inflection of a professor.

We’re told that there are general subjects to avoid - like money and religion - I’d add grades to that list. While there’s nothing like the euphoria and pride that comes from being effective, the truth is, universities are elaborate competitions where winners, losers and future opportunities turn, to a large degree, on grades.

I’m in my dorm-room, hunched over my laptop like a miser counting her gold. I’m going over my grade spreadsheet and giggling, quietly, with delight. Lisa comes up behind me, like a ninja, “What are you giggling about?” she asks, leaning over my shoulder to see my laptop.

I jumped, guiltily, like a teenager caught surfing ****, and pressed the screen-lock button, in mindless reflex. “JeeSUS!” I gasped, turning towards her in laughing irritation, “don’t DO that!”
“Oh,” she said, “you HAVE to show me now,” moving in even closer.

I unlocked the display with a sigh and my fingerprint. She scooped up my laptop - not waiting for permission or explanations. Her eyes swept the spreadsheet like a bitcoin miner and after a second, she asked, “You made this?”

“Yeah,” I said, with pride, adding, “‘Melon’ helped,” (lest I lie and take all the credit). Melon’s an ex-roommate of my bf who’s got several PhDs in math (One in ‘computational mathematics’, a second in ‘mathematical modeling’ and he’s working on a third in ‘decision sciences').
“Clean,” she said, scrolling it up and down and chewing on her bottom lip. “Why were you hiding it?” She asked, handing the computer back.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “grades can be radioactive.”
She nodded, understanding and asked, “Can I get a copy?”
“Sure,” I said, saving it and forwarding a copy to her. The little Mac made a ‘whoop’ sound.

Roommates should share everything.

There are two worlds: one for hopeful youth and another for serious youth.
The hopeful look at the world simply. They see the future of the freedom of driving a car, having amazing times with their friends, graduating with no fear of what's next. All of it makes life very liberating.
Then there is the seriousness involved. There's standardized testing that would frighten phds, paying for college, completely being your own person while not knowing a single thing about yourself.
They're the worlds that you still believe everything is possibly right before you rationalize yourself into your standards.
Life starts to creep up on you. You stop noticing small little joys like how the stars glitter like lanterns as a guidng light to lost souls or how the winds feels on a summer day because now all you feel is heat. You start understanding the what instead of the why not in wonder. You stop looking for dreams and start living instead.
I am now stuck between these two worlds, the truth of everything against leaving wonder to grow in my soul.
Because wonder isn't apart of me. And I don't know how to live in wonder when everything about me refuses glee with both hands.
I don't know how to keep growing up when that is all I don't want to be doing.

Why are the right wingers now afraid of Woke?
Have they been having been dreams?
Jesus was a sailor
The racist past still screams

Richard Nixon was Paranoid
California quakes
The American Abyss
Even PhDs make mistakes

If you Wake in America
They'll try to put you back to sleep
Florida is Ignorance
The Floridians: read 'em and weep.

                         95 North!

Everything gets secularized
The gods recede and leave
Humans live alone
Some with PhDs

I like my little place
Books have been companions
Movies are our myths
My love so long abandoned

At my best I resist myself
At my worst I'm like all the others
Mostly lay low lonesome
Pretty mammas, brothers' mothers

I like beautiful buildings
I've been to Paris, France
Lao Tzu and his Dragon
Shiva and his Dance

Gonna leave America
Ain't gonna look back
George W. should be tried
And executed in Iraq

History is a nightmare
Women are cruelty
Quiet conversation
3733


              She

         xie xie ni

        Tsai. Cai. Li.

Kathryn actually connected with me
On Facebook once
Tried to explain my marriage
She spoke of her divorce

What might have been is painful
Sunset sky fades
I drive home alone
After we play horse

Roberta Flack's First Take
Bought the vinyl in Nashville
The neocon PhDs
Tried to democratize the Middle East by force

I wait for her to knock
She never does
I sleep alone
Of course

                         Yours,

The PhDs mean nothing
The universities mean nothing

Fancy schools
Ship of fools

we sit in coffee shops
debating Marx
while thugs learn
the art of the swing

our PhDs gather dust
in rent-controlled apartments
where we write
manifestos
no one will read

somewhere
a high school dropout
is learning to lead crowds
with three-word chants
while we
parse syllables
and overthink
revolution

our libraries
full of solutions
gather cobwebs
while the streets fill
with simple minds
simple answers
simple violence

we're too smart
to be stupid enough
to win

educated chimps
in a cage
of our own design
watching the world burn
through designer frames
planning
planning
planning
until there's nothing left
to plan for

Infernal Phantasmagoria

CowID's mad laboratory —
A global ****** ward.
How came this grim phantasmagory?
A fool adored — how odd.

For what was he then branded,
And dosed with toxic brew?
Have fascist freaks just landed,
To spit on all that's true?

The laws of all creation —
They will repay the toll
For torture, war, damnation,
And every twisted role.

These wars are all invented.
The end for them is near.
Those not with Spirit — ended.
Decay is drawing near.

The stench of walking corpses —
Their numbers flood the land.
Since man obeys dark forces,
Then Evil takes command.

But only minds still thinking
Can feel the hangover's weight.
The fiends rejoice, then — sinking
Into their final fate.

Today their end is starting.
So crush them, strike with might!
Let not your soul be parting —
Stand up and start the fight.

These wars are hybrid, silent,
Where words alone can slay.
So be direct — defiant —
And drive all lies away.

Their filth infects the nations,
Their blood now flows like rain.
Their propaganda-stations
Speak poison, death, and pain.

They drink that blood, deranged —
These ghouls will rot and die.
Just never bow, unchanged —
And never live a lie.

For lies — the real transgression,
Much worse than ******’s rot.
Corrupting mind’s possession,
Where reason fights and’s shot.

One lie — and you’re forsaken,
If spoken where it counts.
Don’t kneel, though worn and shaken —
Strike back with full amounts.

Don’t bow down to the madness —
Seek wiser paths instead.
New arts of war bring gladness —
Revive them — forge ahead.

Your foe is cold, inhuman,
Deceit their sweet disguise.
They hug you soft and looming —
Then stab you with surprise.

Go inward — seek your reason —
No outer guide will do.
Their counsel breeds more treason,
And blinds the path for you.

Their "truths" are baited offers,
Each clown declares, "I'm God!"
The Devil’s net still proffers
Each self-enslaved façade.

Believe in what you must —
But never dare to lie.
Be silent if you must —
But let no truth go dry.

For lies in things of essence —
I’ll shout this truth again —
Are crimes, vile, effervescent,
That ring through hearts of men.

Like false bells in a chapel,
Distracting souls from grace,
This circus of dumb rabble
Crowns lice to lead the race.

Each maggot plays "the teacher" —
This idiot in command —
And if you let him reach you,
You’ll serve his twisted brand.

In lies, small sparks of meaning
Are drowned — that’s Satan’s trick:
A sea of crap, careening —
So thick it makes you sick.

They triple lies to drown you,
Then drown it more in ****.
Few minds remain unclouded
In madhouse counterfeit.

The rule of mass infection:
"Big numbers must be right!"
Thus fools crush introspection —
The brave crushed out of sight.

So speak with minds that matter,
And leave the mad behind.
Let fools go burn and scatter —
Their fate’s already signed.

Fascism made it clear now
What kind of world we face.
The lash of lies grows near now —
A tidal wave, no grace.

But even that won't alter
The truth: if you submit,
You’re gone. No hope, no shelter —
Starvation will soon hit.

They'll swallow what they're given,
These meatbags, pre-designed.
One meme — and they are driven…
The script’s already lined.

Their lines, their fake crusaders,
All spawn of soulless breeds —
Their lies will **** the nations
And feed the goats like weeds.

That’s how their rule is forming —
But here’s the wicked twist:
They fear the storms a-swarming —
Their time is nearly missed.

The Earth shall soon erupting
Erase this madhouse scene.
Their terror is corrupting —
Their filth grows more obscene.

They shat themselves from fearing
The end that draws too near.
Now just a step’s appearing —
Beyond that edge — it's clear.

Beyond it — resurrection
Of worthy souls, not swine.
Corruption meets correction —
The filth will burn in time.

Our Sun — with sacred power —
Will cleanse this vile parade.
Just glance out at this hour —
The signs are all displayed.

The children’s art has shown it —
A century ago —
Their yellow suns still glow in’t —
Now white — and set to glow.

That burn will scorch all evil —
No trace shall still remain.
No devil, beast or weasel
Survives the final flame.

And life will live in Spirit —
I'll say it one more time.
The blind won't ever hear it —
But fury still is mine.

And so this poem’s ending —
My second one today.
New themes I keep defending,
Till this one fades away.

Well then, I place the period.
Dear reader — march ahead!
Delay is Hell’s preferred god —
And fools will soon be dead.

This path from Hell is brutal —
Not many will survive.
But once you cross that portal —
You’ll feel, you are alive.

The memory of Hell, though,
Still poisons many hearts.
But lice won’t understand so —
They’re less than lesser parts.

So fight with Light your beacon —
Let it direct your path.
And if advice has weakened —
Recall the righteous wrath.

Just test it all through Spirit.
You will not go astray.
That Light? Once you are near it —
No flies will stain the day.

Spirit. Light. Intuition.
That’s all you'll ever need.
Tradition? False sedition.
Go on in Light — Godspeed.



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



Infernal Phantasmagoria

In a global madhouse, lies fuel fascist roars—
Stand steadfast in Spirit; deceit shapes wars.
One truth, once shattered, dusts the ****** to flame—
Only Light endures; intuition stakes its claim.



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



Ignorance

"The more you know — the deeper your ignorance."
— A saying from Buddhism


Wild ignorance — a polished shell,
While fake science rings its knell.
Legacy of poisoned lore
Turns the mind to rotting core.

But wait — the brain is just a tool,
Not the source! We've played the fool.
"Knowledge" floods — and in that tide,
Truth and Spirit both have died.

What remains? A crippled mind,
Logic blind, and soul confined.
Modern schooling’s sacred goal —
Train the servant. **** the soul.

Devil’s own design, it seems —
Darkness coded into streams.
Through the programs, thought’s eclipse —
Lies pour from obedient lips.

Snakes have sold us sterilized
Pseudoscience, sanitized.
We call that "knowledge" — what a joke!
The mind’s on fire. The soul? It chokes.

Memory — they overload.
That’s how talents are destroyed.
Those in charge — they know, they plot.
Every byte a poison shot.

And the herd still can’t perceive
What these mind-tools now achieve.
"More is more"? The fatal flaw —
Slaughterhouse in name of "law."

Simple truths can still be known —
If the soul is clean, alone.
But one lie, in matters grand,
Spills the blood on every land.

There begins the genocide,
When intuition’s pushed aside.
So reclaim it. Make it creed.
If you're brave — then yes, you'll read

Through illusion’s murky breath,
Past the silence reeked of death.
Don’t engage the liar’s bait —
It will only cultivate

The cunning mask of devil’s wit
Where no truth or light can fit.
Hell prepares another phase:
"Knowledge" now — the plague they praise.

Want more "knowledge"? Here's your prize —
More deceit in noble guise.
Spirit bruised, and mind grown cold —
Ignorance in data sold.



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



"The more you know," — they said. A lie.
You trade your soul to feed your "I".
Their "truth" is poison, wrapped in gloss —
The more you learn — the more you're lost.



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



Congrats, you're “educated”! Cheers!
Enjoy your cage of polished fears.
You've mastered crap in high disguise —
Now drown in facts and die in lies.



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



The Grand Academy of Dung
Awarded you a gold-plated tongue.
You speak in charts and graphs and spells —
But sniff — it reeks. You’ve earned the bells.

A Doctor of Deeper Delusion!
You majored in Thought-Prostitution.
Your thesis: “Why Truth Is Offense” —
Applause! And back to the trench of pretense.



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



Requiem for the Empire of Knowledge

They built a throne on rotten codes,
Enshrined their lies in learning’s robes.
Each "fact" — a fang. Each "proof" — a chain.
Their books exude the stench of brain.

They crowned the Mind, enslaved the Soul,
Preached death as "life", and rot as "whole".
Their logic — limp. Their science — blind.
Their schools — the slaughterhouse of Mind.

Professors chant like priests of rust,
While hearts collapse in ash and dust.
Acolytes of sterile thought
Bled the world for what? For what?

A thousand PhDs in hell
Now teach the art of how to fell
The Spirit with a spreadsheet lie —
"Enlightenment!" — they shriek, then die.

And still the towers hum and gleam,
While Truth is burned for one more scheme.
So let it fall — this hollow shrine.
Its God is dead. Its blood is mine.



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



Thrones of lies and rotting scrolls —
They sold their minds, but lost their souls.
"Enlightenment" — a bleeding lie,
Watch their hollow empire die.



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



Lies crowned fools, souls sold to dust —
Fight the false, betray the trust!



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



The Art of Collar-Making

A slave’s collar —
A madness shield for the mind,
The crowd devours
All “smart books” they find.

They read laws,
Freedom, progress — a mess.
But here’s a den of evil,
And lies press and press.

Idiots scream loud,
Like fools possessed.
Lock ’em up with thugs —
Let poison be their guest.

Almost all makes sense,
Yet the core’s a fake.
Truth’s replaced
By cynical stake.

Surrogates fill the void,
The world’s a sham!
Slaves always welcome
Any excuse, ****.

It plays out in moves,
Three steps ahead.
Call out the lie —
You’ll be marked dead.

Lies so habitual,
Death’s dressed as truth.
Fools hysteric chant,
“I’m no stench to soothe.”

“Constitution!” they cry,
“Progress and such!”
But mind’s prostituted,
Souls lost as much.

Around lie corpses,
Dead but “with God” bound,
Slave to lies,
Chains tight and sound.

They’re Satan’s own,
Yet deny the fact.
They lie to themselves —
Fury intact.

They hate not slavery,
But those who see it clear —
The masters of the leash
Their real fear.

All minds enslaved,
The art of the collar —
Rudeness, shame,
A crooked scholar.

Masters abundant,
A pond full of snakes...
This foul breed’s old —
Forever self-fakes.

Teaching kids to lie,
Destroying true souls,
Killing real people
To fit their roles.

Break this cursed cycle —
Smash lies everywhere,
So Reason won’t wither —
Like a collar to wear.



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



Slave Collar

Slave collar’s made of lies —
Mind’s plague, truth’s demise.
Books of fools, chains tight,
Freedom’s just a sick joke’s bite.

Hate those who see the leash,
Masters love the false peace.
Break the cycle, shatter lies,
Or Reason dies — and Freedom dies.



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



Slave Collar’s Scorn

Slave collar chokes your mind —
Fools worship chains they find.
Books lie, laws betray,
Freedom’s just a rotten play.

Hate the ones who see the trap,
Masters feed the coward’s crap.
Break the curse — tear down the lie,
Or watch your soul rot and die.



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



The Spiritual Path

Birth is no beginning —
Death is not the end.
Time and space are thinning —
Truth must now descend.

Forget the priests and science shows —
Their teachings rot like moldy bread.
The heart, not mind, is what one knows.
And mind must serve the soul instead.

When lies arise — expose, deny.
Don't let their dogmas shape your breath.
This world was rigged. Its god? A lie.
The “scholar” feeds you sleep and death.

The sacred Spark — they're bleeding dry,
Replacing Light with myth and blood.
They serve the Beast, and smirk, and lie,
And flood the world with soulless mud.

Your Spirit lives beyond all time —
No cause, no space, no birth, no end.
The cosmos rots beneath the grime
Of fools who claim that Void’s a trend.

Expand your sight beyond the frame —
Not logic's net, but inner flame.
To trap the Infinite with brain
Is catching wind — or worse, a name.

Let logic serve — but not command.
Let intuition steer your course.
Say “NO!” to all that filth and brand,
Then dive within — the sacred source.

Go deep — alone, in silent fire,
And Truth will whisper from the still.
The path is steep, the stakes are dire —
One slip, and Fear becomes your will.

They sell you “salvation” packs —
Each social fraud, a cancer new.
Ideas? Burn them to the wax.
They serve the Beast, and lie as true.

Theories stink — a mental mold
To cage your soul and dim the skies.
Infinity cannot be told
By ants who stare with starless eyes.

This path is hard — but it’s the way.
All else is fall, decay, and doom.
Reject this world’s grotesque display,
Its circus masks, its poisoned bloom.

Only through Spirit’s rise you'll see
The nature of death, life, and space.
Else you remain a wretched flea —
A fool who walks to Hell's embrace.



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



They bleed your soul, then sell you lies —
The path is Spirit, not disguise.
Burn all their dogmas, **** the fake —
Or walk to Hell for comfort’s sake.



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



Self-Knowledge

"Light" and DARK will make you snap
If you never sort it out.
Every clown with truth on tap
Spews his filth to gain some clout.

Blind belief’s a deadly sin —
Turn your insight full awake!
That's the way to win within,
Not to chase the Dark’s sweet fake.

Darkness first, and then comes Light —
Only minds that purge the grime
Can receive that inner sight.
But the world’s a madhouse slime.

So the Mind must be made clean —
That’s the key. Don’t drift or doze.
In the chaos in between,
Catch the sparks the Spirit throws.

Light’s inside — not on display,
What you see’s just faint reflection.
Dawn won’t come the outer way —
Beasts drown all in their infection.

War and CowID made it plain:
We have sunk in purest rot.
Everything else is sugar rain —
Empty noise and evil plot.

True insight speaks without a word —
That’s the yogi’s final stance.
Spare yourself the braying herd,
And their mind-killing expanse.

Theories rot — they sell your soul.
Satan pays them, clear as day.
Final lie to take control,
Then drag everyone that way.

Tear through one more bottom layer,
Break it down and sink us all —
Words hold power, so beware:
This is war, not some close call.

What’s beyond all words and lies
Stands where evil holds no chain.
There, the Soul learns how to rise —
Not through goats, but through the Flame.



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



Goat-Words ****

Their words are chains. Their truths are fake.
Go past them — or you're meat for Snake.



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



No Prospects Left

Time has proved — there’s no way out.
Masses ruled by lies and doubt,
Since their birth they're fed with crap —
Tools of beasts to set the trap.

Mindless weight, a slow decay —
Darkness pushed into the clay.
Beasts install their coded curse,
Turning truth to smoke — or worse.

Rare the minds that see through fog,
Few remain with soul and spark.
This is Hell, not some mirage —
CowID showed it — truth discharged.

Crawled in holes, they hoard their shame,
Silence swallowed every name.
Till they’re dragged to camps by force —
Night shall gallop with no horse.

And what waits at "break of day"?
Gunshots. Lies. Obey or pay.
Truth is whipped out of the sky —
Tyrants smile, and preachers lie.

Now they build their brave new road,
Fleeced by fear, the herd is towed.
But the Plan — surprise! — misfired:
Nature's wrath cannot be wired.

Storms shall break their plastic schemes,
End the filth of broken dreams.
But if you just nod and bow,
Your own soul is lost — right now.

Only those who fight this ****,
Face the beasts and will not run,
Shall preserve the light above —
Fierce rebellion is true love.



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



No God for the tamed —
Only hell for the blind.
If you kneel to the Beast,
You betray your own mind.



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



Kneel to the Beast —
And your soul is deceased.



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



Divisions and False Identities

First they split you by your ego,
Then divide by *** and skin,
Add a nation’s fake “protego” —
Now the war machine can spin.

Break the soul into a segment,
Drag each piece toward its cage —
How? It’s easy: lie incessant.
Lies ignite the herds to rage.

Split them further — atomize!
Rule them through this mad decay.
Keep the Spirit from the skies,
Block the path, then lead astray.

Beasts in suits have known the method —
Long ago they cracked this code:
“Man is cattle, dumb and breathless,
Easy prey for our dark load.”

Ego’s forged through years of grooming,
*** declared as “core of self.”
Cries of fate and ancient dooming —
“Blame your homeland’s brutal wealth!”

Now your “tribe” calls out for duty,
Join the mass of marching tools.
What divides us isn't beauty —
Just the chains and laws of fools.

Flee from ego, ***, and borders!
Go within — the path is clear.
Dodge the traps and false disorders,
Find the Spirit shining near.

You're a soul — a truth eternal.
All else: nonsense, fear, and lies.
Chains of “daily life” diurnal
Keep the flocks in small disguise.

False identities enslave you,
Like a chain around the mind.
Thus the Light begins to leave you,
And the eyes of thought go blind.

There’s a blind spot in your psyche —
It’s the ***, the ego-bluff.
Time to cut this garbage lightly:
Spirit’s genderless — and tough.

Reason rises far above it,
Nations? ******* for the tame.
Only when the Soul moves of it
Will you break this twisted game.

Cast off all the chains that bind you
With Awareness sharp and raw.
Books won't save — they will blind you.
If you trust them — fool by law!

So ignite your intuition,
Sharpen thought and inner fire.
Make the war on lies tradition —
Else the flames will take you higher...

…but not where Spirit flies —
To the dungeons where truth dies.



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



Burn the Labels, Break the Chain —
Only Spirit shall remain.



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



Ego. ***. The Nation’s Lie —
**** them all, or Spirit dies.



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



The Mouseborn Farce

A mountain gave birth — to a mouse.
That sums up man: a spineless louse.
Though calm seems etched upon the land,
It’s just a mask, a slight of hand.

“He’s wise! He’s strong!” — repeat the lie,
And feed him pride until he’s blind.
Doubt? Replace it with a sigh
And worship madness of the mind.

**** off the Spirit — use “belief.”
And for the mind? Call “Science” chief.
Just feed them lies, in layers thick,
And mock it all — that does the trick.

To mock all layers of this rot,
This false world — that’s the TVAR’s plot.
No peace, just poison in disguise.
This world? A graveyard wrapped in lies.

Creator fled — and beasts arrived,
With Satan’s glee, well-armed, alive.
They lie and rule through fear alone —
One shiver, and the lie has grown.

To mock, degrade — that's all they seek:
To gut the Spirit, break the weak.
Then, while you laugh or clutch your pride,
They slip the rot in from inside.

Success? Oh yes — their poison spread.
The slave is dumb. The dream is dead.
Two-thirds are fools, the rest asleep,
And buried deep in ******* heap.

The mountain labored. Birth was due…
A mouse. A mutant — that is you.
You “fit right in”? You’re half-dead meat.
Still think this life’s some kind of feat?

This “life” — a hellish rodent show.
Drop it. Save your Soul — and go.
All else is trash. So why delay?
Go in. Find Truth. Or rot in grey.



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



Mouseborn ****

The mountain birthed a worthless mouse —
A spineless, dumb, degraded louse.
You sleep? You’re part of this disease,
Or just another mutant, please.

This life’s a rodent circus hell —
Drop it now or rot in shell.
Find your Soul or drown in lies —
Or fall with all the rodent flies.



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



Female Psychology

Hormones rage, thoughts drip-drop—
Rush to nests where lies don’t stop.
Weak folk trapped in falsity’s hold,
No escape — the ****’s in control.

So children come, the dull man’s plight,
***’s joy fades into inner fight.
They train for patience, save the nest,
Though bent in hell, they give their best.

Brains pierced through with fear and lies,
Kids rot fast where darkness lies.
Fascism marches, world-wide crawl—
But **** just sees some petty thrall.

Hormones blaze, spirit drowned—
Idiots cheer as end’s profound.
Forward now, you clueless drones!
Let’s bring the End on tyrant thrones.

A hateful tale of genocide,
Join the ranks, or be denied.
Those who dare will soon be crushed,
In fascist ranks, the nest holds hush.

Winners keep their nests awhile,
Thinkers face the fatal trial—
Death’s decree, no chance to fight,
Beneath the ****’s blind, brutal might.



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



Female Psychology

Hormones storm, the mind’s a flood,
Nest of lies, all drenched in mud.
Weak souls trapped, no way to flee—
****’s in charge, no liberty.

Kids born dumb, dull husband’s pain,
***’s joy turns bitter bane.
Brains drilled deep with fear and hate,
Fascism’s here—too late, too late.

Morons cheer, the end is near,
Truth is crushed by hormone fear.
Fight or fall, the spirit’s lost—
In ****’s cold grip, we pay the cost.



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



Convinced — Yet Conquered

Convinced — yet conquered — words akin,
From Latin roots, sharp, clear, and thin:
To force the winner’s strict command,
The convinced must obey his hand.

The meaning gap is small indeed,
While total lies like vipers breed.
Multiply the lies in time,
Make them bolder, foul, and prime,

More vile, more fierce than bombs or tanks—
Those lies will own your soul’s own ranks.
So comrades here are multiplied,
And minds by fascism are tied.

A doc once turned vet, with poison sly,
Injects the herd, no battle cry.
No armored threat, no tanks attack,
Just hybrid lies in TNT’s track.

The traitors rise in endless throng,
A sight abhorrent, sick, and wrong.
No longer human — ****’s their role,
Almost all of them, a cursed soul.

Gullible fools make up the mass,
The majority in this morass.
And now the end, inglorious, near,
Yet truth, and honor, will appear.

They’ll burn the madhouse down to ash,
Where empty words like serpents lash,
Destroy the hellish chatterbox—
That’s certain, though I won’t coax.

Though poems wield their spirit’s spark,
Not evil’s tools, but light in dark.
And for those lying, sold-out dogs,
Annihilation in the fog—

For treason of the sacred base,
And stagnation’s cursed embrace—
The world is stuck ‘cause goats run wild,
But spirit’s truth will be reviled.



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



Convinced means conquered — same **** chain,
Forced to follow, bound in pain.
Lies more deadly than bombs or war,
Own your mind, but fight once more!

**** and traitors rule the land,
Fools and goats obey their hand.
Truth will burn their hellish den —
Freedom’s spirit fights again!



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



Terrible Tale of the Global Madhouse

A new reality —
A “new normality.”
The madhouse winds
Blow on endlessly —

Like a nightmare story:
Things get worse and worse.
Expose the foolish glory —
The nonsense, and the curse.

They showed it all
In CowID times —
More nonsense spreads,
And fear climbs.

The vilest trash
Feeds on that fear.
Souls get crushed,
The pain is near —

A thorn in memory,
That never heals.
The main threats are —
The clown and the “heals.”

The clown brings fear,
The “doctor” fans the lies.
Like a cursed spell
On a mad world’s cries.

“No!” it can’t say
To rotten lies so vile.
The clown sums it up —
The sentence: decay and bile:

“Believe and obey!”
Worse than any doom!
Cling to lies —
You’ve grown used to the gloom —

And the clown-politician
Will herd you like cattle.
Frighten once more,
Then send you to battle...



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



Terrible Tale of the Global Madhouse

New reality —
A twisted “normal.”
Madhouse winds blow
Like a brutal storm.

Like a nightmare’s grip,
It only gets worse.
Expose the dumb lies —
Their curse, their curse!

Shown in CowID’s time,
The madness spreads fast.
More ******* fuels fear,
And fear holds us fast.

The vilest filth
Feeds on dread and hate.
Souls crushed,
Left broken, left to break.

A thorn in memory,
Forever it stings.
Main threats loom —
The clown and his “wings.”

The clown breeds fear,
The “doc” pumps the lies.
World cursed and chained,
Under wicked skies.

“No” can’t be spoken
To lies that enslave.
The clown’s grim verdict —
Decay, rot, and grave:

“Believe. Obey.”
Worse than death’s sting.
Hold tight to lies —
The darkness they bring.

The clown-politician
Drives you to fold.
Frightens again —
Then tosses you cold.



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



Terrible Tale of the Global Madhouse

New reality —
A ******-up “norm.”
Madhouse winds howl,
Spread brutal storm.

Like a nightmare's choke,
It only gets worse.
Expose the dumb lies —
Their ******* curse!

Shown through CowID’s ****,
Madness rips fast.
More ******* feeds fear,
Fear chains us fast.

Vile filth thrives
On hate and dread.
Souls crushed, broken —
Left cold and dead.

A thorn in the mind,
Forever it stings.
Main threats are clear —
The clown and his kings.

Clown breeds pure fear,
Doc pumps the lies.
World cursed, shackled,
Under black skies.

“No” is forbidden
To lies that enslave.
Clown’s verdict rings —
Rot, death, the grave.

“Believe. Obey.”
Worse than a knife.
Cling to their lies —
They **** your life.

Clown-politician
Drives you to fold.
Frightens then dumps you
Cold, dead and sold.



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



A Little Case

Life’s a void, no cause, no aim,
When mind’s vast space is just a game —
Locked inside wild fantasies,
While others gnaw the soul with ease.

Through censorship, dulling, decay,
Honor, Spirit swept away
By propaganda, school, and lies —
Fortress built for tyrants’ rise.

If you seek the Higher Goal,
Among the crowds, you’ll find a soul —
A rare one in the herds that roam,
For now still fat, but doomed to groan.

Then came a trial, dark and cold —
CowID’s grip, the fear they sold.
A test that killed all reason’s spark,
Left minds dead, cold, and stark.

The percent thinking still is slight,
In this cruel twisted blight.
Evil seeps and drains to void,
Where nonsense rules, all hope destroyed.

No futures shine, just years of pain,
A storm ahead, no calm, no gain.

Yet here it creeps — a tiny chance:
A cataclysm’s brief advance.
To crush the lawless reign of fools,
The broken minds that break the rules.

Only Spirits will survive,
Those who graze and stay alive —
The rest will fall in Hell anew,
For patience lost and honor too.



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



Fools of the Wheel

Boy, you point your finger high —
Priest says: “God is in the sky.”
Hold tight — a thousand lies you’ll meet,
This world’s a wretched, cruel deceit.

Only lies can hold the sway,
Keep “stability” at bay.
Such primitive falsehoods, oh my God —
Boy, learn to laugh, to mock the fraud.

Or else you’ll lose your mind too fast,
For madness here is made to last.
But here’s the catch — the bitter truth:
In this world, lies are “the proof.”

To be “normal” is the plague,
Few escape this maddened cage.
These “all” in decay’s cruel clutch —
Just squirrels on a spinning crutch.

Squirrels “sick” with addiction’s bite,
Forget the wheel in endless flight.
Torn apart, no chance to live —
The Wheel’s a trap no soul can give.

If you want life, seek your way
Outside this Fools’ Wheel’s cruel sway:
Only rot and nonsense dwell,
Though bodies thrive in its shell.

The Wheel of Samsara — shameful name,
Rotating with the Enemy’s game.
CowID showed the truth so clear —
This cursed Wheel spins hate and fear.

The Wheel has slipped — it falls to hell,
A cataclysmic, broken spell.
A world where Satan’s lessons spread —
To feast on neighbors, feast on dread.

Through Overton’s Windows came
Cannibals in hunger’s name.
Tons of lies decay the real —
Wheel, spin faster, break the seal!



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



Fools of the **** Wheel

Boy, you point your finger high —
Priest lies: “God’s up in the sky.”
Brace yourself — a thousand cheats,
This world’s a filthy pack of beasts.

Only lies keep this hell intact,
“Stability” is just a pact
Of dumb deceit — oh, kid, learn to sneer,
Or madness soon will claim you here.

But here’s the catch, the ugly truth:
In this world, lies are the proof.
“Normal” means you’re just a slave,
Trapped and broken, no one saves.

These “all” are rotting, mindless mice,
Spinning wheels, addicted vice.
Squirrels on the ****** rat race wheel,
Chasing nothing but their own ordeal.

Addicted fools forget the pain,
Lost inside this mental chain.
Torn apart, no way to live —
The Wheel’s a trap that kills and kills.

Want to live? Then run away
From the fools who rot and prey.
Only filth and decay breed there,
Though bodies boast, the souls despair.

Samsara’s Wheel — a cursed shame,
Spun by foes who fuel the flame.
CowID proved the filthy deal —
This cursed Wheel runs on our heel.

The Wheel’s unhinged — it’s falling fast,
A cataclysm built to last.
A world where Satan’s school is law —
Feeding on neighbors, crushing all.

Through Overton’s Window’s crack
Cannibals come, preparing attack.
Mountains of lies poison the real —
Wheel, spin faster, break the seal!



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



Fools of the **** Wheel

Boy, you poke the sky and pray —
Priest lies, “God rules far away.”
Brace yourself — a thousand cheats
Sickening this broken street.

Only lies keep this junk alive,
“Stability”? Just how they thrive
On dumb ******* — kid, laugh loud,
Or madness drags you in the crowd.

Here’s the punch — the ugly core:
This world’s rotten to the core.
“Normal” means you’re ****, a slave,
Rotten rat in gnawing grave.

These “all” are mindless vermin rats,
Running wheels, infected brats.
Squirrels spazzing on the cursed wheel,
Chasing shadows, stuck and sealed.

Addicts drowning in their ****,
Mind destroyed by counterfeit.
Torn apart, no chance to live —
Wheel’s a trap — your soul it’ll sieve.

Wanna live? Then cut and flee
From this cesspit misery.
Only rot and filthy flesh
Feed the worm in flesh’s mesh.

Samsara’s Wheel — pure ******* shame,
Spun by demons stoking flame.
CowID proved it all — the deal:
This cursed Wheel’s a beast you kneel.

Wheel’s unhinged — it’s crashing down,
Cataclysm to burn the town.
World ruled by Satan’s ****** school —
Cannibal chains, the fool’s cruel tool.

Through Overton’s windows creep
Cannibals in shadows deep.
Lies in tons, a toxic flood —
Spin that Wheel, destroy the mud!



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



Fools of the Hellish Wheel

Boy, you point your finger skyward —
Priest lies: “God’s up high, you coward.”
Hold tight — thousands lies will swarm,
This pathetic world’s a toxic storm.

Only lies keep this wreck alive,
Fake “stability” to survive.
Such stupid ******* — kid, just laugh,
Or you’ll go mad, fall off the path.

Here’s the trap — world’s a sewer pit,
“Normal” means you’re just a ****.
These “all” are rats in rat’s decay,
Spinning wheels, doomed to decay.

Squirrels on ****, crazed and lost,
Addicted fools pay with their cost.
Torn to shreds, no chance to breathe —
This **** Wheel is death’s own wreath.

Want to live? Then break the chain
Of fools and liars’ endless pain.
Only filth and rotting skin,
Feeds the worm that lives within.

Samsara’s Wheel — shame’s cruel face,
Turned by demons, death’s embrace.
CowID’s proof — no lies to hide:
This cursed Wheel will grind your pride.

Wheel’s snapped loose — it’s crashing fast,
Cataclysm’s coming, world won’t last.
Ruled by Satan’s ****** hand,
Cannibal fools enslave the land.

Through Overton’s shifting veil,
Cannibals creep, hungry and pale.
Tons of lies, a toxic spill —
Spin the Wheel — destroy the ill!



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



Simple Feelings of a Pitiful Hellish World

From childhood deep, you clearly feel:
Not right! Not fair! No worth, no zeal!
This world’s a pit of wretched slime —
A soul’s disgrace, a mind’s death-time.

But drown yourself in daily grind —
The Hell of survival’s cruel bind —
You’ll lose that simple truth you had,
Become much broken, worn, and sad.

Your soul shrinks small, your mind’s in shards,
Chaos reigns, no peace, just scars,
For here the “normal” is the dull,
Soulless beast — just **** and gull.

A monster rules, yet hides from sight,
Dragging all down with brutal might.
The **** commands with “Attack! Go!” —
The world is sinking way too low.

Who’s enemy? This **** will teach,
And fools march off to pointless breach,
To fights they don’t survive, they fall —
Their efforts wasted, lost to all.

But few resist — they hold the line,
Recall the simple, pure, divine.
Reject the lies the fiends have spun,
Deny the Hell, the curse undone.

Return to roots — the simple way,
Though paradox, it’s harder day by day.
With it, you bear a cross-like pain,
While fools keep boxing life’s insane.

Save your soul — simplicity’s balm,
A healing salve, a fleeting calm.
And beauty might return, though brief,
Before the dogs resume their grief.

The “Attack!” command is final round,
Then comes the Armageddon sound.
If from your youth you’re stuck in grime,
Meet your end with grace in time...



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



Simple Feelings of a Pathetic Hellish Dump

Since childhood, you’ve known clear and loud:
This world’s a shitpile, bleak and proud.
Not right, not true — just foul disgrace,
A death sentence for mind and grace.

But dive headfirst in survival’s hell,
Where struggle’s chains just crush and quell —
You’ll lose that simple spark you bore,
Dead soul and brain, crushed to the core.

Your soul’s a shriveled, gasping mess,
Your mind’s torn up in brokenness,
Because “normal” means dull and cold,
A soulless fiend, a heartless scold.

A monster rules — yet out of sight,
Dragging the world into the night.
The **** barks “Attack!” with sick delight —
Dragging all down into the blight.

“Who’s the enemy?” that filth will scream,
And fools will rush into the scheme,
To die for nothing — wasted breath,
A pointless dance with certain death.

But some resist — they keep the flame,
Remember simple truths, no shame.
Reject the lies, the ****’s deceit,
Refuse the Hell’s relentless beat.

Return to roots — that simple core,
Though bearing crosses, pain, and more.
While fools keep duking out their fate,
In this mad, broken, boxed-up state.

Save your soul — simplicity’s sting,
A balm that healing might still bring.
And fleeting beauty may arise —
Before the dogs feast on the lies.

The “Attack!” command is final call,
Then Armageddon swallows all.
If from your youth you’re stuck in grime,
Face your end with ruthless spine.



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



Raw Feelings of a Pathetic Hellhole

Since childhood you’ve felt it sharp and clear:
This world’s a pile of stinking smear.
Not right, not real, just endless shame —
A death sentence burned into your brain.

But dive into survival’s grime,
You’ll drown in filth, lose sense of time.
That simple truth you once held tight
Dies under lies, suffocated tight.

Your soul’s a shriveled, busted mess,
Your mind a shattered wreck of stress,
Because “normal” means dull and dead —
A soulless freak with poison spread.

A monster hides behind the veil,
Dragging us all to final fail.
The **** commands with rabid grin:
“Attack! Destroy! Let chaos win!”

“Who’s enemy?” that ******* screams,
While fools rush headlong into schemes,
To die for lies, for pointless pain,
For worthless scraps they’ll never gain.

But few stand firm — the last pure flame,
Who spit on lies, who fight the game,
Reject the ****’s deceitful ways,
Deny the Hell’s insane malaise.

Return to roots — the painful core,
Where truth burns deep and spirits roar.
While fools keep boxing in the ring
Of madness, death, and suffering.

Save your soul — simplicity’s blade,
A bitter balm, a warrior’s aid.
And beauty’s ghost may haunt the night —
Before the dogs devour the light.

“Attack!” rings out — the final curse,
Then Armageddon’s brutal burst.
If you’re stuck in this hellish slime,
Face your doom with blood and grime.



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



Fight or Fade

When Hell’s clutch drags you deep in mud,
Don’t kneel, don’t crawl, don’t choke on blood!
Rise, fight the ****, tear down the lies —
Or rot with fools beneath black skies!



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



Rage Against the Rotten World

From childhood’s grip, you clearly know:
This world’s a shitshow, rotten low —
A curse on Soul, a Death to Mind,
A filthy pit where hope’s confined.

But drown yourself in daily strife,
The hell of "just surviving" life,
And you will lose that simple spark —
Become a shadow, cold and dark.

Your Soul shrinks tight, your mind’s undone,
Shattered, broken, come undone.
For here the dullards wear the crown,
Soulless fiends dragging all down.

A beast unseen commands this hell,
With whispered lies, the world they sell.
The filth drags down to lowest pit,
A chorus vile — "Attack! Commit!"

They scream who’s "enemy," who’s "fiend,"
While fools march blind to slaughter’s gleam.
To pointless work, to doom, to waste —
The devil’s trap, the soul disgraced.

But few still stand, recall the truth,
Reject the lies that choke our youth.
They spit on Hell’s delirium,
Refuse to bow, to sink, to numb.

Return to roots, to simple grace,
Though pain and paradox embrace.
Like hanging on a twisted cross,
In fools’ cruel ring, the final toss.

But Simple Grace can save your Soul,
A balm that makes the broken whole.
And Beauty flickers back to life,
A brief reprieve from endless strife.

The final “Attack!” — the closing bell,
Then Armageddon’s ruthless hell.
If since your birth you’ve breathed this grime,
Face the End with fire in time.



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



Rage Against the Rotten World

From childhood’s grip, you clearly know:
This world’s a shitshow, rotten low —
A curse on Soul, a Death to Mind,
A filthy pit where hope’s confined.

But drown yourself in daily strife,
The hell of "just surviving" life,
And you will lose that simple spark —
Become a shadow, cold and dark.

Your Soul shrinks tight, your mind’s undone,
Shattered, broken, come undone.
For here the dullards wear the crown,
Soulless fiends dragging all down.

A beast unseen commands this hell,
With whispered lies, the world they sell.
The filth drags down to lowest pit,
A chorus vile — "Attack! Commit!"

They scream who’s "enemy," who’s "fiend,"
While fools march blind to slaughter’s gleam.
To pointless work, to doom, to waste —
The devil’s trap, the soul disgraced.

But few still stand, recall the truth,
Reject the lies that choke our youth.
They spit on Hell’s delirium,
Refuse to bow, to sink, to numb.

Return to roots, to simple grace,
Though pain and paradox embrace.
Like hanging on a twisted cross,
In fools’ cruel ring, the final toss.

But Simple Grace can save your Soul,
A balm that makes the broken whole.
And Beauty flickers back to life,
A brief reprieve from endless strife.

The final “Attack!” — the closing bell,
Then Armageddon’s ruthless hell.
If since your birth you’ve breathed this grime,
Face the End with fire in time.

— Now hear the roar, the battle cry! —
Burn down the walls of their **** lies!
No chains, no lies will hold you now —
Stand up, fight back — take your vow!

Let fury blaze, let hatred fuel,
Expose the fraud, the monstrous rule.
For Soul and Spirit, fight with flame —
Destroy the cursed, purge the shame!

This world’s a pit of poison’s breath,
But from its ash will rise your death —
Death to the lies, the fools, the fraud,
Rebirth for those who brave the odds!

No mercy now for twisted kings,
No mercy for their filthy strings.
The hour’s come, the end is near —
Stand tall, stand fierce, destroy the fear!



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



Battle March for the Chosen

Rise up, you souls who see the lies,
Who spit on Hell, who curse the skies!
No chains to bind your burning will —
The time has come to strike and ****.

The world’s a cage of filth and lies,
A slaughterhouse where freedom dies.
But in your veins — the fire’s roar,
To break the locks, to smash the door.

No more the fools who bow and crawl,
No more the puppets on the wall!
Your spirit’s steel will carve the way,
Through darkest night to brightest day.

The liars, traitors, vipers vile,
Will drown beneath your raging pile.
Their thrones will burn, their lies will crack —
The chosen strike, no turning back!

For Soul, for Honor, for the Light,
Charge through the shadows of the night.
No mercy for the ****** and cold,
Your war cry fierce, your heart is bold.

Stand tall, stand strong, unleash the flame,
Destroy the cursed, reclaim your name!
The end is near — the final fight,
The chosen march into the light!



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



War Cry of the Chosen

Rise, you sons of spite and wrath,
Break your chains and burn their path!
This ******-up world’s a pile of ****,
Built on lies and endless *******.

**** the fools who kneel and crawl,
**** the liars, **** them all!
Your rage’s steel will cut them down,
Tear the ******* from their throne of crown.

No mercy for the **** and slime,
No pity wasted on their crime.
They poison truth, betray the soul,
Time to ******’ take control.

Spit fire, strike hard, break the cage —
Rip apart this ******* stage!
Their rotten lies will burn to ash,
Their empire’s fall — a brutal crash.

You’re the storm, the final strike,
The sharpened blade they’ll never like.
Honor, Spirit, Truth — your sword,
Wreck their world with brutal word.

The chosen rise — no ******’ rest!
Till evil’s crushed beneath your chest.
The end is coming, dark and cold,
But you’ll be fierce, relentless, bold.

No turning back, no ******* truce —
You’re war incarnate, sharp as noose.
Charge forward now — the fight is yours,
Break the walls, burn down their doors!



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



The Chosen’s War Cry

Stand the **** up, you sons of rage and spite,
Break your ******* chains, ignite the fight!
This ******* world’s a rotting pit of lies,
Built on worthless **** and endless ******* spies.

**** the spineless fools who crawl and ****,
**** the lying *******—**** their luck!
Your rage is steel, your fists are fire,
Smash their crowns and burn their empire.

No mercy for the **** that crawl and cheat,
No pity wasted on their ******-up deceit.
They poison truth, sell souls for dirt,
Time to bring the hammer down — hurt, hurt, hurt.

Spit venom, strike hard, tear apart the cage—
Rip to shreds this lying stage!
Their rotten lies will burn and die,
Their empire’s ashes blow with every cry.

You are the storm, the final ******* strike,
The blade they fear, the deadly spike.
Honor, Spirit, Truth — your burning sword,
Shred their lies with every word.

The chosen rise — no ******* rest!
Smash the ******* with your chest.
The end is coming, cold and black,
But you’ll ******* bring it — no turning back.

No turning back, no ******* peace—
You’re war incarnate, the ******* beast.
Charge like hell, tear down their doors,
Crash their world with thunderous roars!



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



The Chosen’s War Cry

Get the **** up, you sons of ******* hell,
Break these ******* chains, send lies to rot and dwell!
This ****** world’s a puke of filth and ****,
Built on rotten *******, greedy ******* bums.

**** the spineless ******* crawling on their knees,
**** the lying ******* begging on their pleas.
Your rage is fire, your fists a brutal blade,
Cut through their crooked lies, no mercy to be paid.

Spit on their ****, crush their ******* bones,
Tear the corrupt ******* down to ******* stones!
They **** on truth, sell souls for greed and dirt,
Time to ******* smash ’em — **** their slimy hurt.

Scream venom, hit hard, smash that ******* cage—
Rip their ******* ******* from the ******* stage!
Their lies will burn, they’ll drown in their own bile,
Their empire’s ashes scattered mile by ******* mile.

You are the storm, the final brutal ******* strike,
The ******* nightmare cutting through their ******* spike.
Honor, Spirit, Truth — your blazing ******* sword,
Shred their rotten lies, no mercy to afford.

The chosen rise — no rest for ******* traitors!
Smash these *******, tear apart the haters!
The end is coming, cold and black as ******* night,
But you’ll ******* bring it — fight the ******* fight.

No backing down, no peace, no ******* cease,
You’re war incarnate, the unrelenting beast!
Charge through hell, break their ******* doors,
Crash their ******* world with blood and roars!



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



Raw Alienation of This ****** Hellish World

Since childhood, you have felt it clear:
Not right! Not real! Nothing near!
This world’s a worthless, rotten mess —
A shame for Soul, a Mind’s distress.

But dive into the noisy grind —
Hell’s chains of survival bind.
Forget that simple truth you knew —
Already many parts of you are through:

The Soul shrinks tight, the Mind’s undone,
Shattered, torn — no place to run,
For “normal” here’s dull-witted ****,
Soulless, cruel — a ******* ***.

Ruled by monsters, hidden well
From the eyes that see this hell.
Filth drags down the world to pits,
With their usual “Attack!” commands and hits.

They teach you who the “foes” must be —
This is their twisted specialty.
Fools march to slaughter, blind and dumb,
To pointless toil — to certain ******* numb.

Only few refuse the lies —
Cling to Truth and recognize
That all those ******* feed the hell,
Rejecting chains of torment’s spell.

Return to roots — to simple truth,
Though hard as crucifix for youth.
With it, you’re nailed on blazing cross,
While fools around box life with loss.

You save your Soul — simplicity’s balm,
A freakish cure, a healing calm.
And Beauty flickers back again,
Though dogs still bark in endless pain.

“Attack!” again — last vicious round,
Then comes the Armageddon sound.
If since childhood you’ve been ****** in —
Face the end with burning grin.



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



The Question of Responsibility

The crooked twists of "being" here
Are not just life's concerns so clear:
Darkness, Death are knocking loud—
Only fools trust shadows proud.

So all around, distortions spread
Through verbal diarrhea’s dread:
They call it "media" — lies well fed,
And by a Scumbag it’s all led.

The Horned Beast, no doubt, no guess—
Who’ll answer for this mess?
Idiots are the ones to blame—
The media fuels the shame.

To sell your Soul to filthy fiends
With slogans, “Be as all the sheeple,”
There’s no greater crime, no sin
That haunts the ages deep within.

That’s why no life can grow or thrive
Amidst the lies that keep us blind.
They build a Digital Camp to bind
The broken minds, the soulless kind.

For others, Death — a smoky veil,
The Motherland’s a ghostly tale,
Not soulless, but a shooting range,
Where you’re the target, cold and strange.

Not a shooter, just a mark,
If you don’t bow before the dark —
The twisted beast that pulls the strings,
And poisons life with rotten things.

But here’s no choice to just comply—
Don’t feed the evil, lies, and lies.
Fight ’til dirt and filth depart:
Living in ****’s not living smart!



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



Fight or Rot

No bow, no crawl, no blind obey,
Fools trust the darkness, led astray.
Media **** sells your soul cheap,
They herd the dumb while devils creep.

No life in lies, just death’s cold grip,
Digital chains choke mind and spirit.
You’re the target, not the gun—
Rise up, fight, or be undone.

Rot’s the fate for those who kneel,
Fight the filth, refuse the spiel.
Live or drown in endless ****—
Choose your side, commit, commit!



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



Fascism in the False Mary

The tyrant’s bronze, the cruel boss,
A diamond sharp—provoking chaos.
Gold-weighted, hell’s own spark ignites—
Disaster launched through wicked fights.

By filthy fiends who pull the strings,
The False Mary media sings,
“Follow fools to toil and chains,
To slaughter fields and cruel pains.”

If you’re not vermin, you’re a pest—
The wretched herd meets final rest.
New Führer leads them to Hell’s pit,
Calling **** “the elite”—****.

It all began in taverns grim,
Where ******’s soul hunt first grew dim.
Not skins, but souls are fiends’ true prey—
They rush to ***** God’s spark away.

The double-faced Führer now
Shepherds cattle dumb as plow.
Slaughters rage: CowID was stage one—
Now shameless wars have just begun.

But times run out for tyrant’s game,
The world has sunk to digital shame,
A sick mind’s camp built by the vile—
Impressive horrors all the while.

They mock in “democracy” lies,
Numbing senses, dulling eyes.
They build fast, but fail to finish—
Nature strikes, their end’s diminished.

The sun grows fierce, burns ever bright,
Countdown starts for final night.
In hiding holes, they wait their fate—
The Judgment looms, it won’t be late.

And harsh it comes, no fools escape—
To Hell with all who chose the ape.
Only few who stood and fought
Will find the light, the soul unbought.



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



Planet Prison

A slave who’s never known the taste of freedom
Can’t grasp the chains — his fate is ******* grim.


Building fences costs a fortune, sure,
And guards will flood the gates by score.
But first you numb the enemy’s mind —
Without the walls, they’ll just “graze” and grind.

They’ll graze like cattle, dumb and blind,
Not prisoners chained, but herd confined.
To do this, just ensure their fate —
They’ll never see the hand of hate.

Make all the slaves insane inside
With cunning lies to bind their pride.
Rewrite the past, inject the trash,
From childhood on, force-feed the crash:

The theory of their “bright” evolution —
That tails fell off, the grand solution.
Make sure they’re trapped in endless lies,
A spinning web of truth disguised.

From youth they’ll be reduced to beasts,
Distracted by survival’s feasts.
And they will tyrant themselves with glee,
Guarding cages none can see.

Explain survival as the law,
So they obey without a flaw.
The herd grows docile, damage small —
Just a few smart ones face the fall.

And those who think and reason clear
Will be crushed by fools, year after year,
Unless from youth they’re lined in ranks
With mindless slaves and empty thanks.

But free men don’t just fight to live —
Nature offers more to give.
She’s like a mother, kind and vast,
Yet slavery still holds men fast.

Though obvious, no one admits —
Their slavehood wrapped in false permits.
Consciousness with wicked grin
Suppresses truth and swallows sin.

With conscience, honor, dignity,
Replaced by lies and vanity.
A tale is spun — a fake ideal —
Where every “citizen” must kneel.

The trick’s not hard — it’s done each day,
With propaganda’s vile array.
Wild nonsense preached to slaves’ delight,
Belief in “truths” that shine so bright.

A factory of “weighty” words
Spews monsters, killing proper worlds.
Deformity breeds deformity —
Genocide becomes the deity.

For numbing minds grows ever tough,
Then idiots serve dark masters’ bluff.
In silent wars, they twist the throng,
It’s easiest to **** the wrong.

The clinically insane,
Eliminated without pain.
The rabid crowds of madmen breed
The death of humans in their need.

Humans few — the final seed —
Torn down by fascist times’ dark greed.
Exhausted souls with spirit chained,
Their minds enslaved, their freedom drained.

Enslaved by shallow, hollow streams,
Caught in this void of endless dreams!
They leave without a single fight —
For fear they’ll be consumed outright.

These halfwits flood the ocean’s shore —
Obedient slaves of empty lore.
Fake slave states built on rotten bones —
A planet prison, *****’s home.

Where spirit’s scarred by venom deep,
A world so vile it’s doomed to reap.
It’ll burn — a crematorium’s flame —
When spirit dies, there’s only shame.

This filthy realm will face its end,
For boundless genocide will rend.
And that sweet moment’s coming fast —
For those who stand, who never passed.



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



Friend or Foe

Long lost the sense to tell friend from stranger,
Man drifts in fog, no longer a ranger.
Like endless fights to prove who’s dumber —
Regression’s march to wooden lumber.

I always felt the eyes behind,
Saw just a spark in someone’s mind.
But poisons in food and paths we choose
Have crushed this gift — no use to lose.

Intuition barely clings —
This world adores the petty things.
Money rules, a god, a king —
Nothing else has any wing.

Once a ghost inside my head,
Read my thoughts like words unread.
But with people came a blunder —
Numbness rose in endless thunder.

Not people — just dumb logs,
Exceptions scarce, like lost dogs.
Feels like moths near flame, they die,
Fragile souls doomed to lie.

How to build a spiritual bond?
The hardest question to respond.
Stupid masses crush and grind,
Drowned in darkness man-designed.

The choice is lies against lies,
Sensitive souls pay the price.
Always hard, the brave endure —
Only fools have doubts obscure.

Here beasts break through the wall,
Only shadows can they call.
The world’s a cage, all trapped inside
By darkest evil, vast and wide.

Rare light flickers ‘midst the shade —
Spirit’s halo slowly fades.
I saw it before it fled —
The ram rages, numb or dead.

Dead when drained of all his power —
Energy’s a drip, a sour.
Only spews his stinking word-snot —
A foul flood that won’t be stopped.

As child, I glimpsed my soul’s face,
Watched my body from that place.
So I loathe the mystic lies —
Their deceit, their fake disguise.

Some exceptions break the chain —
“Number twenty” strong remains.
But all else is small and vile,
Under Satan’s shadowed smile.

So I turned to logic’s might,
Adding instinct’s blazing light.
Balance is the sacred key —
Without it, lost eternally.

So heed yourself and trust the fire,
Ignite your gut — resist the liar.
Or perish ‘midst the endless dung,
Screaming lies that must be wrung!

Clean your mind, it’s fight or death —
A sewer stinks with every breath.
This curse, this beast, this tightening noose —
Strangles spirit, kills its juice.

Entangled deep in lies and chains,
Generations bear the stains.
We’re executioners, blind and cold,
Mind and spirit crushed, sold, and sold.

If bonds of soul keep breaking fast,
As they have done since ages past,
We’ll turn to beasts, to ****, to slime —
Soulless cattle lost to time.