You think I'm oblivious
You tell me I'm stupid
you think it's okay

You think I don't know
what you think of me
to notice what you say
and you leave the words
on display

I don't hear what you say
but I can see the hatred
it suffocates the air

It pollutes me
not only does
it affect me
but it affects others

It mutilates the people
who stay around you
they become immune
to your pollution

They breath in your
hate filled air
and become permitted
to your profanation

You suffocate me
and you don't even
seem to care

Please let me go
I cant bare the words
lingering in the air

The question is
Where to begin?
Why, with honest heart
And boldly sin!
And sin I must
Against myself
Pinning the inkwell
A bespoken purpose
--The poetic confession
Since speech commands silence
And advances regression.
My courage it falters
And guts turn all queer
Neither could reckon
With our distances near
And confessing this outright
Is just plain absurd,
I hope I have made
My cowardice clear.
True, this is petty
And prideful at best
Poem’s the proper vehicle lest
My weakness runs wild
As ornery thoughts
And binds up my tongue
And stomach in knots.
But onward! I bore you!
My pen spitting gibb'rish
Thinking sense and writing none  
I’m too far to turn back
And the day is yet won!
But can I be blamed
For nerves all on end
When the single string in every thought
Goes day’s beginning to its end
And all around and back again?
This whole semester
I’ve felt a fool
Beside this mind of eloquence
Of enervating sensation
Like, I, a simple candle
And auroras’ collocation
On the clearest luminescent night
With incensing breeze blown left and right,
Coupled with creative flair
And womanly chic, short, brown hair
I’m distracted, diverted stupidly
A boy's been made
Of the man in me.
I’m a mustard seed among
Religious men,
And profanation blossoms
Brought to transcendent, if divine heights
My words reaching an Elysian place
Touching new Heavens
With (excuse the pun) Grace.
Please don’t hold daft obligation
That you must reciprocate
The sentiments, here, laid before you
And mushiness innate
But the purpose is here
Not to woo
Nay, to salve this tiny,
Yet consumptive flu
So for stoic, normal me
This is something radically new.
So excuse the upheaval
And heavily borne load
It’s just perseverance
Through pessimistic mode,
I know this is weighty
And clichéd and trite
But I've been made weary
(And that’s creepy a mite)
Through countless embattled days
And resultant restless nights
With no intention to do so.
I hope this has struck you
Not perturbed or amused
Because right now I’m trembling
Sclerotic and bruised
And will follow, oh follow
This to its end;
To see this message
Read in your hands.
But until then, condemned
To sleep sad and wake gaily
To think only one thought
And think that thought daily
And thought is of you
Of you,
–.

As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, No:

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move,
’Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th’ earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did and meant,
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers’ love
(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th’ other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows *****, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must
Like th’ other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.

I had for my winter evening walk—
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o’clock of a winter eve.

Get up, get up for shame! The blooming morn
    Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
    See how Aurora throws her fair
    Fresh-quilted colours through the air:
    Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
    The dew bespangling herb and tree!
Each flower has wept and bow’d toward the east
Above an hour since, yet you not drest;
    Nay! not so much as out of bed?
    When all the birds have matins said
    And sung their thankful hymns, ’tis sin,
    Nay, profanation, to keep in,
Whereas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.

Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
    And sweet as Flora. Take no care
    For jewels for your gown or hair:
    Fear not; the leaves will strew
    Gems in abundance upon you:
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept.
    Come, and receive them while the light
    Hangs on the dew-locks of the night:
    And Titan on the eastern hill
    Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come forth! Wash, dress, be brief in praying:
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.

Come, my Corinna, come; and coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park,
    Made green and trimm’d with trees! see how
    Devotion gives each house a bough
    Or branch! each porch, each door, ere this,
    An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove,
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
    Can such delights be in the street
    And open fields, and we not see ‘t?
    Come, we’ll abroad: and let ’s obey
    The proclamation made for May,
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying;
But, my Corinna, come, let ’s go a-Maying.

There ’s not a budding boy or girl this day
But is got up and gone to bring in May.
    A deal of youth ere this is come
    Back, and with white-thorn laden home.
    Some have despatch’d their cakes and cream,
    Before that we have left to dream:
And some have wept and woo’d, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth:
    Many a green-gown has been given,
    Many a kiss, both odd and even:
    Many a glance, too, has been sent
    From out the eye, love’s firmament:
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick’d: yet we’re not a-Maying!

Come, let us go, while we are in our prime,
And take the harmless folly of the time!
    We shall grow old apace, and die
    Before we know our liberty.
    Our life is short, and our days run
    As fast away as does the sun.
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain,
Once lost, can ne’er be found again,
    So when or you or I are made
    A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
    All love, all liking, all delight
    Lies drown’d with us in endless night.
Then, while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let ’s go a-Maying.

­        by Robert Herrick

GET up, get up for shame, the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
       See how Aurora throws her fair
       Fresh-quilted colours through the air :
       Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
       The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept and bow'd toward the east
Above an hour since : yet you not dress'd ;
       Nay ! not so much as out of bed?
       When all the birds have matins said
       And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin,
       Nay, profanation to keep in,
Whereas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.

Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
       And sweet as Flora.  Take no care
       For jewels for your gown or hair :
       Fear not ; the leaves will strew
       Gems in abundance upon you :
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept ;
       Come and receive them while the light
       Hangs on the dew-locks of the night :
       And Titan on the eastern hill
       Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come forth.   Wash, dress, be brief in praying :
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.

Come, my Corinna, come ; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
       Made green and trimm'd with trees : see how
       Devotion gives each house a bough
       Or branch : each porch, each door ere this
       An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove ;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
       Can such delights be in the street
       And open fields and we not see't ?
       Come, we'll abroad ; and let's obey
       The proclamation made for May :
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ;
But, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.

There's not a budding boy or girl this day
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
       A deal of youth, ere this, is come
       Back, and with white-thorn laden home.
       Some have despatch'd their cakes and cream
       Before that we have left to dream :
And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth :
       Many a green-gown has been given ;
       Many a kiss, both odd and even :
       Many a glance too has been sent
       From out the eye, love's firmament ;
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick'd, yet we're not a-Maying.

Come, let us go while we are in our prime ;
And take the harmless folly of the time.
       We shall grow old apace, and die
       Before we know our liberty.
       Our life is short, and our days run
       As fast away as does the sun ;
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
       So when or you or I are made
       A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
       All love, all liking, all delight
       Lies drowned with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.

Sonnet.


Beauté qui rends pareils à des temples les corps,
Es-tu donc à ce point par les dieux conspuée
De descendre du ciel sur la prostituée,
De prêter ta splendeur vivante à des cœurs morts ?

Faite pour revêtir les cœurs chastes et forts,
D'habitants à ta taille es-tu si dénuée ?
Et quelle esclave es-tu pour t'être habituée,
Souriante, à masquer l'opprobre et ses remords ?

Beauté, retourne au ciel, va-t'en, tu te profanes ;
Fuis, et n'avilis plus aux pieds des courtisanes
Le génie et l'amour qui n'y cherchent que toi.

Déserte pour jamais le blanc troupeau des femmes,
Ou qu'enfin, se moulant sur le nu de leurs âmes,
La forme leur inflige un front de bonne foi !

Now rejoice then repent
Since long I have meditatively roamed,
Many a vicissitude and nothing gained,
In the oblivion  the cosmos I have seen,
In the twilight and gloom there's sheen.

The Sun whirls, The moon glides yonder,
How I come and go ah I'm set to wonder,
Eloquence's fanatical, to attire in  silence,
Speak little, be reticent with forbearance.

Whisper to the balmy breeze sans frown,
Not a stir even when I wear an airy gown,
In the realms of silence I shan't hear again,
Take my word, I wilt never meet the twain.

Sad echoes will sound from what ye adore,
Life's whisked away, away drifts the shore!
Voices will sink and the eyes shall lose light,
A new Sun, a new Moon and stars so bright.




In  fading scenarios novel  pictures emerge,
Tranquility dies away, vicious passions surge,
In the flurry of passions the inebriety swells,
Blows are flying amid bawl, shrieks and yells.

Your jubilation will end in profanation of joys,
For you the fate hath woven iniquitous ploys,
Don't put on genteel semblance, stand to face
In brewing turmoil watch your thawing grace.

Feral wails shall haunt you thru day and night,
Wallowing in miseries to paint a piteous sight,
The resting hours shall agitate your toxic mind,
To feed you with memoirs so horribly unwind.

Let your wisdom make you so horribly unwise,
In the ocean of detestation ye will sink and rise,
Leap and lick your bruises, retribution is at play,
Reward or penalty, for you did yourself betray.

Let grief be the cherished gourmand and taste
The infuriating gall that awaits you in all haste,
No consoling words and no reassuring gesture,
Only time will paint thy face in ghastly feature. (Dr. Riaz Ahmad  December 9, 2020

At times the profanation
At times the sacred sounds
At times the mystic silence
At times put back rebounds

Time is not a line
Time might be an Ocean
Time is still unknown
To her my still devotion

Letters in the mail
Poems in the night
Mad as mist and hail
Cranberry juice with Sprite

Love is patient and kind
I wait; yes, I wait.
Enter my wine mind
Destiny, not Fate

          Dragon Gate.

The Total Classifier of Delusional Reality


A monstrous fraud-classifier
Has crept through every crack—
This world, like torn-out wiring,
Is shredded, shelf by rack.

The whole complex existence
Now sorted, filed, and tagged.
And thought—stripped of resistance—
Lies broken, bound, and gagged.

For all is One, eternal,
Yet man, from age to age,
With pseudo-science infernal
Divides the sacred page.

What’s whole gets split and scattered
By minds that crave control—
And caught in nets long tattered
Is his own fractured soul.

These nets are hell’s invention,
To sever and enslave—
What once was Love’s dimension
Becomes a devil’s grave.

A garden, undivided—
Its trees, its grass, its flowers—
Was never meant to be chided
By minds drunk on dark powers.

The world is whole, unbroken
When thought is pure and free.
You're more than flesh—you're spoken
From soul’s infinity.

And thought is not the master—
The brain just plays its role.
So dare to ask, and faster:
Is this your final goal?

This *******—does it suit you?
A beast, a branded thing?
How long will lies pollute you
And falsehoods proudly cling?

The arrogance grows louder—
A virus built on lies.
The screen spews bile and powder
While demons feast in guise.

But if your mind stays centered
With others who still see—
They’ll not have you dismembered,
They'll never muzzle me.

If freedom still has meaning—
Then grasp this, plain and true:
Division is the sin demeaning,
That makes a sheep of you.

And that is why these vermin
Classify all they scan—
To fuel the fake and sermon
That blinds the soul of man.

Soon every soul will slumber
On shelves of coded night,
If all believe this lumber—
The devils dressed in white.



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



1.
Divide us, brand us, shelf us all —
That’s how the soulless gain control.

2.
Their science lies, their virus kills —
And sheep obey what darkness wills.

3.
You are not stock for coded pens.
Break every cage — or serve their ends.




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



1.
The Science™ knows! So hush, obey —
And let them file your soul away.

2.
They measured truth with plastic brains,
Declared: “It fits in test-tube chains!”

3.
Big Science labeled grass as threat —
It's now a class C alphabet.

4.
They split the world to make it neat —
Then wondered why it smells like meat.

5.
“No soul detected,” said the scan —
“Just cells that think they’re more than man.”



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



1.
The virus thinks, the screen decides —
“Science confirms!” the madness rides.

2.
No proof? No stress! Just sternly say:
“The Science states — now kneel and pray.”

3.
Your brain’s infected — not with bugs,
But broadcast truths from labcoat thugs.

4.
Lies go viral. Then endorsed —
By science-stamped Ministry of Forced.

5.
“Approved by Science,” barked the screen —
While corpses smiled on the vaccine.

6.
No tests required, no need for proof —
Just say “The Science™!” — instant truth.

7.
Your mind is safe! Relax, submit —
The zombiobox has babysit.




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



Monologue of the Chief Affirmator
(From the Institute of Undisputable Facts)

Good day, citizens!
No need to think — we’ve already done it for you.
You’ve been accepted
Into the ranks of those
Who agree by default.

Proof? That’s outdated.
We — affirm.
Because Science has spoken.
And you — stay silent.
Silence, by the way,
Is now the highest form of agreement.
Scientifically proven.

We’ve measured your anxiety
On the official Screen-Trust Scale™.
Diagnosis: you're restless —
Because you don’t trust the virus enough.
But don’t worry:
After three news reports
And one expert frown,
You’ll be corrected.

Correctness is fear.
But structured, scientific,
With graphs and a QR halo.

Everything is classified:
— Proper fear: encouraged.
— Doubt: a dysfunction.
— Evidence: obsolete.
— Pseudoscience? Only that
Which lacks approval from our sponsors.

Oh, and by the way:
A new strain of fear is arriving soon.
Don’t forget to wear your respect.
Also known as a muzzle.
Also known as reason.
Also known as your scientific obedience.

And please — no thinking.
We’ve pre-thought everything for you —
In convenient format.
With a truth subscription.
And a shot against critical thinking.

This briefing is now complete.
But truth continues in our next broadcast.



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


Belches

Dedicated to Stefan Lanka — a brave warrior against pseudoscientific darkness


You cough — and you're “sick”?
An “idiot” sneezes —
And someone gets bricked?
This madness increases!

There are no viruses —
Lanka proved that.
But now, the horizon’s
A new wave of crap.

The herd still believes
The sellout brigade —
A cult of "healers"
In masks on parade.

No proof, no defense —
Truth's thrown out the gate.
Now only deception
And treason await.

Don't trust these creatures —
They all serve the beast.
The fascist grim features
Snarl at the feast.

Stand up. Don't obey.
Find minds that are free.
The Spirit holds sway —
Burn every ****** “degree”!

The books have been poisoned,
The food and the streams —
The cause of disease?
You believed their sick dreams —
Now you rot in their schemes.



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



1.
Science says?
No proof, no facts —
Just masks and threats
And pharma contracts.

2.
They sold you fear,
You bought a cage.
Now burn their lies —
And turn the page.

3.
Belief in germs
Killed half your brain.
Wake up, my friend —
Or die insane.

4.
No proof. Just rule.
No mind. Just drool.
Obey the screen —
You perfect fool.

5.
A sneeze. A mask.
A lockdown script.
Obedient cattle —
Microchipped.



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



1. Spiritual enslavement
Poisoned books and minds confined,
The spirit crushed, the soul declined.
Fake gods rule, the truth erased —
Rise up now, or be disgraced.

2. Zombification of the masses
Feed the herd with lies and fear,
Dumbed down masses cheer and sneer.
Thought enslaved, controlled, confined —
Wake the brain or lose your mind.

3. Revolt of the mind
Break the chains, ignite the fire,
Fight the lies that build the pyre.
Truth’s a blade, cut through the fog —
Rebel soul, reclaim your god.



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



The Tragedy of Laplace

When asked why Laplace allowed
Doctors in the Academy’s fold,
Though medicine’s no science true,
He said: “So they might talk with you.”

Laplace’s curse — eternal blight,
Dragging dumb crowds into light?
At first a joke, now fascism’s grip,
Filth spreads, and minds start to slip.

Burn that **** like witches old,
Doctors turned to fascist cold.
Small rewards, but deadly game —
Needles ****, and none to blame.

So-called “Psychotherapy”
Psychotherapy — rotten frauds,
Greedy “docs” with money gods.
False premises in pseudo-science,
Serving demons, not alliance.

They claim no lies, no twisted thought,
Yet fools their vicious battles fought.
Madness grows from freakish spawn,
True minds steer clear or they’re gone.

All within — yourself explore,
Simple methods, soul’s deep core.
Introspection’s sacred art,
Not vivisection tearing hearts.

Steps are simple, path is tough,
World’s too dumb, and lies are rough.
Spirit’s base — the only way,
If you serve greed, you’re led astray.



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



Laplace’s Tragedy — Sharp Strike
Doctors in the Science hall?
Laplace knew the farce and all.
Medicine’s a crooked game —
Fascist pigs who burn our flame.

Needles **** — no justice there,
Silent screams choke poisoned air.
Masses fooled, their minds enslaved,
Science sold, the truth depraved.

Psychotherapy — Brutal Blow
Fake shrinks pocket cash and lies,
Feeding madness, killing wise.
Spirit crushed, dumb sheep obey —
Greed’s slaves in a devil’s play.

Soul’s path crushed by shallow scams,
Brains enslaved in twisted jams.
Fight inside, or drown in slime —
Slaves to greed, lost all in time.



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


Laplace’s Tragedy

Medicine’s a farce.
Doctors ****. Silence screams.



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



Psychotherapy

Shrinks lie, souls die.
Greed rules, truth bleeds.



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


Laplace’s Tragedy

Medicine?
Killers.
Silence.



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


P­sychotherapy

Lies.
Souls.
Greed.
Death.



---------------------­



Age of Degeneration

Renaissance or rotten fall?
Total lies, degradation’s call.
Dark fact, but one small twist:
In that age profane the gist.

Spirit smashed — a brutal rod,
Beating kids in schools, so flawed.
Monsters broke a sacred wall:
Mind without the Spirit — fall.

Since then all profanation —
Fake science, fake salvation.
Minds sunk deep in dull decay,
Life enslaved, led far astray.

Mind must serve the Spirit true,
Unconditionally pursue.
But dull fools seized the throne,
Knowledge cast aside, alone.

Truth now only poets sing,
Spirit’s voice, a fragile wing.
World’s a filthy cesspool, see —
**** impose their "truth" on me.




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



Age of Degeneration

Renaissance? No, rotten rot!
Lies that choke the common lot.
Spirit crushed with iron rod —
Schools beat kids with Godless fraud.

Monsters cracked the sacred dome,
Mind without the Spirit — tomb.
Fake science, fake salvation,
Feeding dull decay’s inflation.

Dumb fools grabbed the throne of thought,
Truth betrayed, forever bought.
Poets fight, the last bright flame,
While **** declare their filthy claim.

World’s a sewer, pure and vile —
Truth ***** by the demon’s smile.
Chains of lies, the masses crawl,
Spirit dead, but fools still bawl.

Mind must bow to Spirit’s fire,
Or rot in falsehood’s mire.
No more mercy — time to burn
This cesspool’s twisted, sickening urn.



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



Age of Degeneration

Renaissance? **** that lie!
Rot and filth that kills the mind.
Spirit crushed beneath their boots —
Schools breed dumb, obedient brutes.

Monsters smashed the sacred gate,
Mindless slaves accept their fate.
Fake science, **** religion,
All are tools for mind’s derision.

Stupid ***** seized throne of thought,
Truth betrayed, forever bought.
Poets fight the last pure flame,
While **** **** on truth and name.

World’s a sewer, full of **** —
Truth’s been ***** by demon’s wit.
Chains of lies choke every breath,
Spirit crushed, a slow, cold death.

Mind must bow to Spirit’s fire,
Or rot in lies and deep desire.
No mercy now — let fires burn,
Time to watch this cesspool churn.

**** the liars, **** the frauds,
Fools who worship twisted gods.
From the ashes, Spirit rise —
Burn the filth, expose the lies!



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



The Cyclomatic Theorem of Lies — Proof by ******* Chaos

I proved the formula —
Cyclomatic core of sin.
A three-part hypergraph of lies,
Where faith’s a hollow din.

All cycles are just loops,
Where truth bleeds out like blood.
Three full parts of lies —
The scheme of death and mud.

Psychology’s a shame,
Diplomas smeared in dirt.
Proofs of lies overflow —
Science? No, just hurt.

Lies run in cycles,
Impossible to break.
But my formula burns,
A code no lies can fake.

I’m a coder with spirit,
Tearing false nets down.
Truth lives deep inside,
While lies wear the crown.

Let the system crumble,
Burn down all the shame.
My verse’s algorithm
Will bring enemies to blame.



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



Lies run forever —
An endless loop consumes.
Devouring every byte,
Killing truth’s small blooms.

No escape from error,
System’s choked and dies.
Truth trapped in recursion —
While the fake world lies.



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



The Cyclomatic Theorem of Lies

I proved this ******* formula —
Cyclomatic core of ****,
Three-part hypergraph of madness,
Where truth’s a ******* myth.

Cycles chained in endless torture,
Truth trapped in recursion’s hell,
Lies breed like ******* cancer,
In the system’s broken shell.

Psychology? A sick joke,
Diplomas soaked in lies.
Science sold for filthy cash,
While reason slowly dies.

The code’s a poisoned virus,
Burning all we hold dear.
The system chokes on *******,
Swallowing truth with fear.

I’m a coder wielding fire,
To crash this ****** machine.
Truth’s the weapon in my hand,
Cutting through the obscene.

Let the empire rot and crumble,
In ashes, let it drown.
My verses are a nuclear strike —
Blowing their fake crown down.



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



Infinite Dead Loop of Lies

Lies spiral in recursion —
Truth trapped, nowhere to flee.
The system’s dead inside —
Choking on deceit’s disease.

No reset, no reboot —
Just endless death in code.
A ******* dead loop kills —
Truth crushed beneath the load.



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



Conceptual "Thinking"

All concepts are limited —
Only useful in part.
The mind, like iron Felix,
Stands firm — but then will start

Crunching down on indicators,
More work or less they seek.
The world’s far more complex,
Than concepts make it seem weak.

The herds are dumb and docile —
Like military slaves.
All concepts — soulless lies,
Hence fascism enslaves.

Spirit is the primal force,
While matter’s just a mask.
Pseudoscience is superstition,
To crush the herds at last.

The shepherd’s just a front,
Satan’s aim is deeper.
The rabble won’t understand,
Their concepts turned to creeper —

Smearing everything with ****,
Creating upside-down.
Wake up before it’s too late —
Stop worshipping this plague around.

In plague-ridden camps,
The earthly cities drown.
They listen to the vile lies —
For centuries, not a short round.

Spirit reigns supreme.
Mind obeys the soul’s call.
If not — then put out the light,
For beasts like lice will crawl.



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



Conceptual "Thinking"

Concepts all are limited—
Useful? Barely so.
The mind’s like iron Felix,
Crunching, grinding slow.

Chasing hollow indicators,
Work more, or less—who cares?
The world’s too deep and twisted
For dumb, blind herds and snares.

Sheepish, dumb, obedient—
Like soldiers, locked in line.
All concepts? Soulless poison,
Fascism by design.

Spirit’s first, matter’s fake—
Just shadows, lies, and games.
Pseudoscience is pure superstition,
A tool to break the chains.

The shepherd’s just a mask—
Satan’s goal runs deep.
The **** won’t understand,
Their concepts crawl and creep—

Smearing truth with filth and slime,
Turning all upside-down.
Wake up, or drown in plague—
Stop worshipping this clown.

Plague camps spread, cities rot,
The world obeys the slime.
They swallow lies for centuries,
Not hours, not a dime.

Spirit rules, mind obeys—
Or else extinguish light.
Lice and beasts will crawl and swarm,
In endless, endless night.



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


In Memory of Nikolay Kozyrev

The mystery of phenomena
That TIME itself bestows—
Beyond all logic’s reach,
A world ABOVE TIME grows.

It fights the entropy,
Reverses usual flow,
The ones who catch its signals
Are few, but they do know.

Extreme, forbidden wonders—
No place for fraud and sham,
They shake the racks of liars,
Expose the con and scam.

Prophecies and visions,
Telekinesis’ force,
Beyond bold logic’s borders—
A path that charts new course.

There time, a magic power,
Lifts falsehood’s crushing weight,
And sparks the rarest changes
In minds that seek their fate.

To dull fools, all this is nonsense—
Their “knowledge” stale and dead.
But those who dare awaken
Will rise beyond the dread.



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



Executioners of the Mind

Nikolay Kozyrev, 1937,
Arrested on a twisted claim:
For trying to steal the Volga West—
A “crime” to shame his name.

Stealing the Volga to the West?
The sentence—ten long years.
The nation’s best destroyed with lies,
Pushed masses drowned in fears.

Today, the same old **** remain—
Their filth displayed in full.
No change, no growth, just endless war
Against the mind’s own pull.



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


Executioners of the Mind

Kozyrev, ’37—arrested, framed,
For “stealing Volga” westward bound.
A monstrous farce, a ****** disgrace,
A sentence crushing genius down.

Dragging down the nation's finest flame,
With lies and fear they poison all.
The mob devours truth like carrion—
While puppets dance to power’s call.

Same vile ****, unchanged, unbowed,
Through centuries of mental war.
Their poisoned claws still tear and maim—
Destroying minds to keep control.

The brain’s own killers wear no masks—
They’re kings of darkness, fear, and grime.
They smother light with iron fists—
Condemned forever by their crime.



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



Executioners of the Mind

Kozyrev, ’37—arrested, framed,
For “stealing Volga” westward bound.
A monstrous farce, a ****** disgrace,
A sentence crushing genius down.

Dragging down the nation's finest flame,
With lies and fear they poison all.
The mob devours truth like carrion—
While puppets dance to power’s call.

These executioners wear no shame—
Their hearts a void of greed and spite.
They choke the light, they **** the flame,
Enslaving minds to endless night.

Their tools are fear, deceit, and chains—
Brainwashed crowds and silenced screams.
They ****** thought, they crush all gains,
Drown freedom’s voice in poisoned streams.

They breed confusion, force submission,
Invent false wars to blind the gaze.
Destroy the wise with cold precision,
And drown the world in endless haze.

No soul is safe, no truth allowed,
No rebel mind escapes their grasp.
Their kingdom built on lies and blood—
A hellish cage, a tyrant’s clasp.

For centuries they wage their war—
Against the spark of human will.
But every time they close the door,
The spirit breaks and rises still.



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



Executioners of the Mind

Kozyrev was arrested in ’37,
For stealing Volga — absurd charge given.
"Dragging river West" — the verdict’s pain,
Decade lost to lies and chains.

Killing the nation’s brightest flame,
Feeding masses with endless shame.
Today’s no different — **** still reign,
For centuries, war with brain.

They’ve not changed, these ruthless fiends,
In shadows cast, they pull the strings.
Against the Mind — eternal fight,
Dark puppeteers rule the night.




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



Executioners of the Mind

Kozyrev, ’37 — accused, destroyed,
For “stealing Volga,” crime absurd.
Today — total control,
Muzzles on the masses, stifled souls.

Streams of lies — poison’s flood,
A cowardly world enslaved by fear.
Pandemic — shadow play,
Truth is gone, only lies appear.

Executioners of mind in white coats,
Propaganda shoved into every home.
Fakes, tests, forced submission —
Virus of lies that breaks the dome.

All sciences sold for cash,
Humanity — a herd of dogs.
Viruses of genes and ideas,
Flashes of doom for all of us.

In schools they break young souls,
Genetics under the blade of lies.
They dull the core, they mute the mind —
To run powerless into the blind.

Executioners of new age do not hush,
From top to bottom — ruthless press.
Genocide of thought — a quiet scream,
Endless loop of lies and progress.

Satan in technocrat’s disguise,
Preaching “new order” in the lies.
But rebel spirit tears the chains,
Soon it will burst all their lies.

All the false plays of power break,
Cutting freedom’s shining light.
And mind’s executioners will fall,
When dawn will finally strike the night.



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


The Razor Truth-Bearer

He found the blade inside the vial,
Graphene shards like razor’s smile,
Slicing veins, unseen, concealed—
The silent war the liars wield.

Spoke aloud what none could face,
Exposed the poison in their race.
Too sharp the truth, too cold the light—
They silenced him in darkest night.

No justice served, just whispered threats,
The shadow pulls, the terror nets.
A martyr lost to greed’s domain,
Where science bleeds, and lies remain.

His name erased, but not the pain,
The struggle burns, defies the chain.
In silence now his voice resounds—
A blade that cuts through all their rounds.



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


Veterinary *****

We wear our muzzles tight,
And pump that toxic ****.
Who dares to stand and fight —
Their fate is sealed, they quit.

We jab them down by force,
To save our precious skin.
No need for will or course —
Freedom? We’d just sink in.

We only want the doc,
And cops to keep us tame.
Our genius? “Procter”’s stock —
We’ll raise his ****** name.

A monument we’ll build
For pushing all that junk.
Life’s simple, hearts fulfilled —
A paradise, no bunk.

We’re all just imbeciles,
A fool leads with a grin.
We stockpile health and pills,
Don’t poke us, don’t begin.

Dissent? Just sit and shut,
Don’t stink or stir the mess.
With needles, we construct
Our “heaven” in distress.

And all who disagree —
We’ll **** them off real soon.
Then life will be carefree —
Beneath this blood-red moon.



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



Veterinary *****

We drag our muzzles tight,
Inject their poison’s spite.
Oppose? You’re wrong, you’re dead—
Your fight is burned and shred.

We force the toxic jab,
“Saving” us with their stab.
Forget your rights, don’t speak,
Freedom’s just for the weak.

Only cops and docs,
Run this sick, twisted show.
“Procter” leads the flocks,
A monument of woe.

Praise the poison pusher,
Who feeds us all this filth.
Life’s ****, but get used to it—
Welcome to their hellish quilt.

We’re dumbed down, led blind,
A fool’s the one in charge.
Stockpiling health confined—
Don’t poke the barbed barge.

Dissenters? Shut your trap,
Or drown in their disease.
Needles build their trap,
Our “heaven” on its knees.

All rebels will be crushed,
Their voices torn and stilled.
Then we’ll live dead and hushed—
By tyrants’ iron will.



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


“The Cure”

Not to heal — just “treat” nonstop,
No breaks, no mercy, no escape.
“Can’t live without it,” lies nonstop —
The doctor’s game’s a ruthless scrape.

He “treats” the fools who buy the schemes,
While rot spreads thick and silence reigns.
Fear shackles voices, kills their dreams,
A world trapped tight in shadowed chains.

Now doctor’s gone veterinary,
Dogs get papers, stamped and sealed.
Better than the old prisons —
A sanitary hell revealed.

They hook up chips to fools’ veins,
Inject their nano-mind control.
Reason killed, stripped of all brains,
Souls flayed raw, a crushing toll.

Dr. Mengele’s back in play,
Running this grim, twisted show.
Time has come — the **** must pay,
And in the fire, all must go.



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



“The Cure”

Not to heal — just jab and shove,
Endless lies they shove down throats.
“Without this shot you’ll never love!”
The doctor’s grip’s a steel-clad moat.

He treats the fools who swallow lies,
While rot devours the silent throng.
Fear locks jaws and blinds the eyes,
The weak bow down — the herd goes wrong.

Now dogs get papers, marked for death,
No difference from camps of old.
Nano-chips invade the breath,
Mind enslaved, the soul sold cold.

Mengele’s ghost commands the scene,
Torture masked as “care” and “heal.”
Time to purge this filthy spleen —
**** the vermin, break the seal.




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



“The Cure”

Not to cure — just shove that ******* needle,
Endless ******* fed like ******* gospel.
“No shot? Then die, you’re ******* feeble!”
Doc’s a *******, locked in iron castle.

He feeds the dumb who swallow lies,
While **** corrodes the silent mass.
Fear clamps jaws, blinds every eye,
Weak ***** kneel — herd’s dead in the grass.

Now dogs get papers, tagged to die,
No better than those old-*** camps.
Nano-chips crawl in your veins, don’t lie —
Mind and soul ripped, dumped in the scamps.

Mengele’s spawn runs this sick show,
Torture dressed as care and cure.
Time to burn this ******* low,
**** the vermin — make it pure.



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



Executioners of the Mind — The System’s Design

We haul the Volga westward, chained,
Ten years sentenced — no shame retained.
A nation’s blood to poison deep,
To feed the herd the lies they keep.

Still now, as then, the **** parade,
Their war on reason, centuries made.
Not rogue mistakes — a system’s hand,
A hellish web across the land.

They choke the truth, enslave the brain,
Propaganda’s cruel domain.
False science weaponized to ****,
The System grinds, unyielding still.

The rulers wear their masks of lies,
To crush the light that dares to rise.
No flaws, no glitches in this game —
A perfect, ruthless, grinding flame.

The puppeteers pull every string,
To trap us in their deathly ring.
They sell us chains, disguised as keys,
And feed us poison with disease.

So scream, revolt — the time has come,
To tear apart this web of ****.
Not errors, no — the System’s art,
A ****** dance to break the heart.




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



Executioners of the Mind — The System’s Shitshow

We drag the Volga west, no *****,
Ten years locked down, the system *****.
They slaughter nations, feed the herd,
With ******* lies and twisted words.

Same filthy *******, same old game,
Waging war on reason’s flame.
No fuckups here — it’s all by plan,
This ******-up system rules the land.

They choke the truth, enslave the brain,
Propaganda’s ******* reign.
Fake science used to **** us all,
The system grinds — a ruthless thrall.

The ruling **** wear masks of lies,
To crush the light that dares to rise.
No bugs, no flaws, just cold command,
A ******* death-machine’s demand.

Puppeteers pull every string,
Lock us in their hellish ring.
They sell us chains as shiny keys,
And poison deep in disease.

So scream and fight — the time is now,
To rip this shitshow down somehow.
Not mistakes, no ******’ art —
The system’s blood-stained broken heart.



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


Executioners of the Mind

Drag the Volga west — ten years in chains,
Nation slaughtered slow — blood on the trains.
******* liars spin their twisted games,
Feeding masses ******* — spreading flames.

Same old ****, the cancer’s deep,
Waging war on thought while we all sleep.
No fuckups here — it’s all designed,
A hellish system, cold, unkind.

Truth choked tight, lies fed nonstop,
Science murdered, bodies drop.
Masks of lies, fake smiles, fake law,
******* puppets, claws in the jaw.

This world’s a cage, they hold the key,
Poisoned needles, tyranny.
Chains sold cheap, freedom’s a joke,
Truth burned down, silence spoke.

So scream and rage — it’s do or die,
Rip the mask, expose the lie.
Not ******’ glitches, it’s the plan —
System’s heart’s a bleeding man.



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


Executioners of the Mind (Expanded)

Drag the Volga west — ten years in chains,
Nation slaughtered slow — blood on the trains.
******* liars spin their twisted games,
Feeding masses ******* — spreading flames.

Same old ****, the cancer’s deep,
Waging war on thought while we all sleep.
No fuckups here — it’s all designed,
A hellish system, cold, unkind.

Truth choked tight, lies fed nonstop,
Science murdered, bodies drop.
Masks of lies, fake smiles, fake law,
******* puppets, claws in the jaw.

This world’s a cage, they hold the key,
Poisoned needles, tyranny.
Chains sold cheap, freedom’s a joke,
Truth burned down, silence spoke.

Systems grind like rusted gears,
Feeding fears, confirming tears.
Not a glitch — a brutal plan,
Crushing souls, breaking man.

Executioners wear suits and ties,
Smiling snakes with venom eyes.
No random fail, no accident,
Just cold machine — the mind’s torment.

Truth’s a threat, so cut it loose,
Feed the herd the ******* juice.
System’s core: control and ****,
Bleeding minds beneath the drill.

So rage, revolt, or drown in shame,
This dance of death, this twisted game.
But know it’s not just rotten luck —
It’s systemic ****, the poison pluck.



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


Executioners of the Mind (System’s True Face)

Drag the Volga west — ten years in chains,
Nation slaughtered slow — blood on the trains.
******* liars spin their twisted games,
Feeding masses ******* — spreading flames.

Same old ****, the cancer’s deep,
Waging war on thought while we all sleep.
No fuckups here — it’s all designed,
A hellish system, cold, unkind.

Truth choked tight, lies fed nonstop,
Science murdered, bodies drop.
Masks of lies, fake smiles, fake law,
******* puppets, claws in the jaw.

This world’s a cage, they hold the key,
Poisoned needles, tyranny.
Chains sold cheap, freedom’s a joke,
Truth burned down, silence spoke.

Graphene blades in fake “vaccines,”
Blood runs thin, torn by machines.
Whistleblowers killed and erased,
Their warnings lost in the lies they’ve traced.

A modern Mengele’s carnival,
Playing god, the final fall.
Nano-chips and death in vials,
Mass control through toxic trials.

Systems grind like rusted gears,
Feeding fears, confirming tears.
Not a glitch — a brutal plan,
Crushing souls, breaking man.

Executioners wear suits and ties,
Smiling snakes with venom eyes.
No random fail, no accident,
Just cold machine — the mind’s torment.

Truth’s a threat, so cut it loose,
Feed the herd the ******* juice.
System’s core: control and ****,
Bleeding minds beneath the drill.

So rage, revolt, or drown in shame,
This dance of death, this twisted game.
But know it’s not just rotten luck —
It’s systemic ****, the poison pluck.



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



Intuition of True Knowing

A sensitive sail tenses — the ear,
And stupid mind derails so clear:
True knowing’s purely INTUITIVE.
Strict logic? Nature finds it repulsive.

Complex webs beyond the brain,
Amid the clouds of foul disdain —
“Education,” propaganda lies,
Controlled by vile gang’s disguise.

THE FILTH that rules this world with greed,
Feeds on sameness, scheming creed.
Go only INWARD — thirst for soul,
Not quenched by popes or scholars’ role,

The ****** who serve the creeping beasts,
The crafty liars — market priests.
Forgeries and fakes they spread,
To **** the Pure Mind’s thread.



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



The ShitIceberg


A goat in gold commands the pit —
While talking heads just scream and spit.
You call this life? It's death disguised.
Wake up — or rot, lobotomized.