79 poems

Infernal Beasts

Infernal beasts are grinding down —
No trace of the country remains.
They napalm the world, town by town —
For lies are the core of their gains.

The servile folk swallow the poison:
“Don’t trust them? Then you are the foe!”
They’ve opened to fascism’s poison —
And die in the filth they bestow.

The honest and soulful are dying —
The plague of the soulless is spread.
All reason is gone — there’s no trying —
Implanted delusion instead.

Those beasts are adept at imposing,
The herd is adept at obeying —
They mumble the lies they’re enclosing,
And castrate their young while they’re praying.

Perverted submission’s their banner —
Or fate will devour their kin.
But crawl in the filth with good manner —
No beast will chastise such a sin.

Infernal beasts rule the story,
The herd grows still duller and vile.
And Earth, in its false dying glory,
Will choke on its lies with a smile.



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1.
The beasts still feast — the herd obeys,
And truth lies burned in hellish blaze.

2.
They kneel to lies, to filth, to shame —
And call that slavery a name.

3.
The world’s last gasp — a poisoned breath,
A smile of lies before its death.

4.
Infernal breed, obedient spawn —
The night is here. The light is gone.

5.
The world bows down — the beasts applaud,
And Hell is crowned the people's god.



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Songs

A song is a well-staged weeping,
A sob with a polished refrain —
Its purpose is simple: keeping
The herds asleep in their chain.

Thus, zombie-pop’s main selection
Is scum with obedient eyes,
Performing, on cue, the infection —
To kill Spirit, Reason, and Rise.

That’s why it’s all goo-goo and honey,
Pure nonsense and sugary lies —
And only the dumb find it funny,
The goose-flocks of stupefied minds.

Stupefaction’s a mass production,
The stage — just a paint-soaked booth.
It breeds degeneration’s seduction,
A freak show that murders the truth.

The scum laugh loud in their circus —
“Pop art,” “science,” “shows” — all one rot.
Deceit overflows every surface,
Half-dogs dance where minds are not.

That’s enough for them — half-dog faces;
Were there humans, they wouldn’t perform
That writhing of fleas in their places,
That death of the soul in its form.

There are few exceptions — but rarer,
They help to cement the deceit.
The thoughtful have long sent their prayers
To dumpsters of hope — obsolete.

The fog of delusion thickens,
Each step spreads the idiot’s creed.
Decay’s final bottom is stricken —
The masses are idiots indeed.

And idiots need, well-directed,
Professionally staged cries —
The world, now decapitated,
Needs no hangman — it dies.



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1.
They sing — and the world stops thinking,
Applauding while souls are sinking.

2.
The louder they cry on stage,
The deeper the herd in its cage.

3.
They wail — and the fools adore,
Each note — one coffin more.

4.
A song for the mindless throng:
Obedience dressed as song.



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The Cat’s Reality and the Ram’s Phantasmagoria

The cat’s own world —
Not simple, not curled.
For a cat’s no ram
From the faked-up sham.

He sees, he lives —
He takes what he gives.
While rams are fed —
Their minds are dead.

If dumb — you’re meat,
If smart — don’t retreat:
Don’t kneel to the Beast,
Defend your soul, at least.

The soulless ram
From the faked-up sham
Is this Earth’s shame —
A plague with a name.

He gnaws the ground,
Spreads rot around,
With rams consumed
By lies perfumed.

They lie — and the ram
Obeys the scam.
His lord — that clown,
The Satan-crown.



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1.
The cat still sees — the ram obeys,
And lies decide the herd’s last days.

2.
The ram kneels low — the cat just grins,
For truth’s no friend to wool and sins.

3.
Let rams adore their horned king’s rod —
The cat walks free — and close to God.

4.
The herd bows down to filth and fraud,
The cat alone remembers God.



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Street Cats

In cities where souls are asleep or decayed,
Where fear and submission are law,
Where heads rot first — as the order’s obeyed —
A cat is the sign that you saw.

There’s a mystery deep in your glance, full of life,
Unseen by the blinded and tamed,
Who’ve traded their honor, their reason, their strife,
For madness the system proclaimed.

Street cats, street cats —
You’re the pulse in a land of the dead.
Street cats, street cats —
You are free from the lies demons spread.
Street cats, street cats —
You are free from the lies demons spread.

Those demons enslave with their fear and deceit,
Their poison corrupts every mind.
Soon fear will complete what deceit made complete —
And Hell’s reign will finish mankind.

The cats see it all, for they live in between
Two worlds — both the dark and the bright.
Hell’s realm is collapsing in folly obscene —
It turns men to livestock — no light.

Street cats, street cats —
You’re the pulse in a land of the dead.
Street cats, street cats —
You are free from the lies demons spread.
Street cats, street cats —
You are free from the lies demons spread.



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The cats walk free while the herd decays,
Alive in two worlds — the rest in a daze.



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The “Art” of Walruses

"A fool examined the painting:
A lilac bull was licking a walrus.
The fool bent down, made a face,
And said: “The painting’s fresh…
The idea’s far too symbolic,
Yet stylized decently enough.”
(Poor man hid, most of all,
That he understood nothing)."
— Sasha Chyorny, The Coat Rack of Fools, 1909


The lilac bull became a toilet,
And nonsense sprawled nearby.
They hype up filth and mischief,
For Satanism rules the day.

The true artist is barred from the sabbath,
For he cannot corrupt
The weak minds and poor souls —
Cannot send this plague erupt.

Satanists hire the sellouts,
Talentless, mindless, unfit,
In this murky world, a jar
Of pure shit is now called “art.”

The bottom’s pierced, and behold, a firehose
Of piss on the spectators — “with feeling!”
With electric shocks of a thousand volts,
They take the next step, unappealing.

A walrus’s dick stands as a symbol
Of the eras to come.
And there, a new Satanism rises —
For the fresh swarm of human fleas.



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A jar of filth is called “art” today,
While human fleas cheer the walrus’s way.



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Shame of the Stone Jungle

The cats are leaving, one by one:
Poison, scalding water from the windows.
Clearly, they’re closer to God —
The biped is dull, blind, and cruel.

The biped is wild: the stone jungle
Has no place more dangerous anywhere.
No coals in the Wild can protect you —
Cannot chase away the Night of Evil’s snare.

Evil’s snare is worse than dinosaurs,
And larger — fear spreads everywhere:
Man has become a minotaur —
Today the labyrinth of the World is Dust.

There’s no exit from the maze —
Round and round, turning to decay.
The cats are leaving. Where’s a pint? —
To forget the bondage of the Beast for a day.

Hidden inhumanity: presidents,
Leaders, and other vile trash.
The pedestals will not be empty
Until the festival comes, a storm of fire.

It will sweep away the Shame that bears
The name of Civilization. Now’s the time
To turn inward, escaping the Evil Regime,
To save the Soul — the Rabbit Hole.

Closed today, while the “depths”
Are reduced to ordinary nonsense:
Now, turning into Beasts
Is the daily order, if you dare say “no!”

Only a few have dared —
As shown by the wretched scum.
Armageddon is no longer imagined —
Through the Sun’s fire, all Shame will burn.



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The cats depart — the maze remains,
But fire of the Sun will burn our chains.



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A Friend Has Died

A friend has died. A poet’s friend —
Just a cat? How bleak, how small,
For a poet. Cast away your fear —
“Life” in the madhouse is fatal after all.

The madhouse stinks, it brazenly lies —
Its traditions are like stone.
The fool will believe that lie,
Pampered here for centuries alone.

Not being a fool — that’s a task,
Comparable to hero’s feats.
For ages, the Beasts bluntly lie,
Have all become fools in the streets?

Don’t believe, resist. The fool
Is never your fate, your call.
Let the scum lie more boldly still,
You, at least, stop this thrall.

Here are EXECUTIONS by lies. The fool
Is both executioner and prey.
Traitor or snitch, it matters not —
He is the root of cruelty today.

Fight even if beasts surround,
Or waste your soul for nothing.
First awaken, shake off the haze —
You’re poisoned by the fumes of lying.

Total deceit — only a fool
Cannot grasp what’s simple here.
Traitor or snitch — no matter the rule,
For fascism thrives in the dim and drear.



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Awake, resist — the fool survives,
But fascism grows where dullness thrives.



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A Million Lies

You stand alone,
Once the lies are expelled from your mind.
You are your own master,
Not a shameful flea left behind.

It’s hard sometimes —
But there’s no turning back.
No more that shameful fate
Where inhuman scum attack.

A million, million, million lying words
Thrown to the trash — destroyed.
You’ve left the pen for asses —
Truth is your light, your style deployed.

Inhumanity breeds only lies —
Slavery rests on deceit alone.
Multiply your strength with truth,
Or be destroyed, your fate is known.

Lies strike everyone down —
Even false “diseases” deceive.
Believe them — and you’re gone,
For the fuse of fire they leave.

Seek allies in the fight,
Search relentlessly, be brave.
Do not bow to the shameful fate
Of the enslaved and the grave.

The slings of truth will strike all lies,
If you find your own legion strong.
Slavery from faked-up lands
Will vanish. Learn to triumph, belong!



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Strike with truth — the lies will fall,
Freedom rises where shadows crawl.



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In Memory of Vladimir Vysotsky

He didn’t say so much —
He was a fish where no others swam.
But I would’ve drowned in that clutch —
So for him, I thank God, I am.

It takes so little for people
To not fall, spiritless, to the herd.
He stirred those Soviet devils feeble,
Where muck and slime was all that stirred.

Oxygen barely seeped to the depths,
The Soviet fools endured the grime.
And the golden center, unseen by them,
Was crushed, like sprouts, each time.

Any link was easily broken,
The soul tortured like ritual prayer,
By vile ideology, choking the token
Of human thought and care.

The Union faded, drawn out and dull,
Life became a frightful tale.
Communism fell; fascism grew,
The people stupider, weak and frail.

No bard is needed now,
No poet or worthy publicist survives.
Only decay and stench remain,
Though even the Union was rotten inside.

And they will destroy this world —
Burn it all with Sun and Earth’s magma.
A madhouse, or a shooting range,
Where they strike down anyone touched by truth.



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The world burns, the fools remain,
Truth struck down, yet echoes remain.



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Bound by a Single Chain

Mountains of lies have piled like skyscrapers —
And climbing there without a rope is a crime.
“Terrorisms” and falsehoods, diseases of vapors…
Soon you’ll slip to the abyss, down these slopes of grime.

We are now bound by a single chain —
All of us climbers, scaling the insane.

Heavy chains have entangled us all,
We plunge into the abyss of lies and deceit.
And on the chains they chant, “These are just bonds,”
That all our so-called “successes” are no mere feats.

We are now bound by a single chain —
All of us climbers, scaling the insane.

Scum insists: “Not chains, just ropes,
For safety and bodies we value…”
But we’ll die precisely from this “protection” —
These chains grow heavier with every day.

We are now bound by a single chain —
All of us climbers, scaling the insane.

The only way out — don’t climb together:
Stop being obedient, a slave-like herd.
The mountains of lies will quake and surely crack —
We’ll clear the heaps of filth afterward.

And we will no longer be bound by a single chain —
We’ll part ways with these vile deceits.



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Break the chain — the lies will fall,
Freedom rises when we refuse to crawl.



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To Die

The final verse is done —
It’s time to die.
The world is dumb, foul, and gone —
I don’t give a damn, not I.

No poem matters in Bedlam,
No Spirit’s fire counts there.
A circus — brute on brute,
Fool or idiot everywhere.

Most of the people dwell there,
Lies piled Everest-high.
Year by year, it’s hard to bear
The cross we carry and try.

“Crucifixion” through verse —
A burden not light to bear.
They’ll devour you, guts and all,
If today you dare to care.

In poetry, only courage counts,
And Spirit, which here is oppressed.
Slavery has sunk deep —
From head to toe, we’re possessed.

To crush this slavery in verse —
A righteous life’s true aim.
Only hellish stubbornness
Can save — or it’s all the same.

Vysotsky’s little ship
Ran aground in a sweep.
Don’t step on others’ rakes —
Stand your ground, duel, and keep.

Let your foe dig in deep,
Hiding in filth, entrenched.
But if you haven’t surrendered,
You’re no slave to fate, unquenched.

Do all you could — your reward: Death.
Create, reader, boldly, without fright —
And even Hell’s hard floor
Will tremble at your might.

We are in Hell, not free,
Soon Hell itself will be swept away.
No longer bear — enough!
The work begins today.

The Sun shines brighter now,
Burning this Bedlam to dust.
And every one will answer here —
Whether brute, or inhuman, or unjust.



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Burn the Bedlam, break the chains,
Even Hell itself will quake from pains.



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Fire Cannot Be Bound by Lies

You cannot chain fire with deceit —
It will break through, washing lies away.
Total falsehood shakes the world in fear,
Multiply the fire within, make it stay.

Let it blaze outside, though all is filth,
Though profits rise from the muck around.
When the heat is fierce, direct your flame,
Fan your small blaze, let it scorch the ground.



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Fan the spark — let it roar,
Lies will drown, fire will soar.



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Through Thorns, Not to the Stars

There is no happiness: the wretched delirium
Under the press of Total Lies prevails.
No freedom exists — only Light
Beyond the Infernal Veils and Hells.

The quest for Light is the path
Through thorns — not to the stars:
Conquer Earthly Horror,
And boldly leap into Impossibility.

Impossibility for the masses,
Mercilessly dulled and tamed
(Today the “free” are slaves —
“Heresy” they crush without shame).

Immutable for the brave
And the wise — no life exists
Among the timid and corrupt:
“Delusions of happiness” save none,
Entertainment for paper tigers.

Through Impossibility into Light —
The answer to seeking,
And the only true vow.



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Through thorns we march, the blind stay chained,
The brave strike forth — their Light unchained.



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Emptiness

Emptiness is natural
If you’ve cast out lies.
Are you honest with yourself? —
Your troubles multiply.

There will be no shortage of woes
Once you step into that realm —
A world without falsehoods. Fatigue there,
And harm in overwhelming helm.

Here in lies, “salvation” reigns —
Like a tank it crushes all.
Simpler: stupor and dulling,
Or you’re just a hose at call.

Pretend to be a hose here —
Easier than most.
But lies will not budge —
They have no time for ghosts.

Lies must be smashed,
For nothing is worse
Than the stench of that filth —
The root of every curse.

And if so, you’ll swallow
Handfuls of grief:
The struggle spans long years —
Countless trials beneath.

Expect no gratitude —
They love only liars:
All those “gurus,” “leaders” —
Scum in endless choirs.

The pond today overflows with lies.
The honest are few.
Multiply their ranks boldly —
Lies will die with you.

If you perish in the struggle —
It means you’ve won
Here against lies, though to yourself
You poured gasoline on the flame.



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Smash the lies, endure the flame,
Victory is carved in the pain.



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Rustles Without Gunpowder

All that remains here are mere rustles,
An unheard squeak across the feeds.
Without promotion, it’s like no gunpowder —
All effort crumbles into dust.
Without promotion, it’s like no gunpowder —
All effort crumbles into dust.

The selling scum will always scheme —
Everywhere she profits again.
The honest fool forever suffers —
Only Evil’s adept will gain.
The honest fool forever suffers —
Only Evil’s adept will gain.

Evil works hard, corruption flows
Like sticky honey, poison steeped within.
Those submissive to darkness
Devour again this STENCH of sin.
Poison seeps in honey, the submissive
Devour again this STENCH of sin.

The STENCH corrodes their minds —
Poisons thought with sticky Blight.
Thus the torment drags on —
Thus you become a donkey here.
Thus the torment drags on —
Thus you become a donkey here.



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Break the rustle, crush the scum,
Only the brave will overcome.



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Earthly Corruption

Excessive, boundless —
What epithet can name this Blight?
They lie without end,
Aiming to crush Reason outright.

In feeble humans, served on a platter
To the scum — give them a bark!
The world will burn, then cool,
And scalding ashes scatter in the dark.

What seeds will they sow? Unknown:
Everything here is poisoned deep.
One must judge honestly,
Lest weeds from spit again will creep.

As usually happens, even now:
Evil persists, cyclical and vast.
Corruption grows its endless store —
A vile abundance, unsurpassed.



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Stand against the endless blight,
Strike the vile with fearless might.



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So-Called Poems on Western (and Other) "Poetic" Sites

A brief essay,
Where crumbs of meaning hide —
Down the lines it wanders,
Forgetting rhythm aside.

Everywhere, the nonsense
Wears another’s mask.
Yet the herds devour it —
Today it’s “freedom,” “openness,” a task.

They must pour this sludge
Into every canon’s frame:
Through controlled gibberish
They keep the world in shame.

Ah, I forgot to say —
There’s no rhyme either:
Nothing for the true poet
Who shuns the fevered blither,
And cannot lie,
To seek some "meaning deeper".



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Refuse the sludge, reject the lie,
Let truth burn bright — or else comply.



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Debilland

We live in Debilland —
And every soul’s a fool.
Saint Nick’s in Lapland’s hand —
He’s source of all our fuel.

We worship petty fables,
And pray to him each day.
We bow to any rabble,
And kiss whatever’s grey.

We cure ourselves with poison,
We torture those unlike.
The strong are always chosen —
The wise? — they’re called the psych.

The idiots are normal,
The brazen rule on high.
All rules are mere formal,
And lies are praised, not shy.

Betrayal is their duty,
Oblivion — the fact.
In this land of idiocies
One truth is tightly packed:

The gut, the bowel, the stomach —
That’s doctrine, that’s the base.
With bellies we’ll make triumph,
And feed our hollow race.

We’ll shrink the heads to mouths now —
Only mouths will stay.
We’ll turn to lesser brethren —
And march that other way.

We’ll crawl with faces hidden,
Muzzles fastened tight.
Conscience will be forbidden —
We’ll cull it from the sight.

We’ll hang those who have conscience,
The thinkers we will strangle.
The cretins we’ll anoint —
Baptize them with the dangle.

Cretin follows idiot —
Next stage of our rite.
We’ll heap the lies and live on it,
Stockpiling false might.

Universal Cretinry —
Behold the New World’s scheme.
Meanwhile we’ll breed our piggery,
And worship F;hrer-dream.

Now dressed that F;hrer’s mask
In plague-doctor’s suit and role.
We wait — and truly, almost —
For torchlit nights to stroll.



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Break the fools, burn the lies,
Torch the night where madness flies.



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The Rabble

The rabble gave us little
Chance to find escape.
No shame in them — their title:
Forever pasturing drape.

Their fate is “work” and patience,
Their limit — to endure.
Inhuman bile delivers
Death as its sure cure.

With lies they rot the whole world,
Rabble serves as the troops.
The rabble will caress the wise
With venom in their loops.

Poisons sting with malice,
Global fascism spreads
Its stench of lies and folly,
Planting idiocy’s threads.

The rabble is all feeble,
No Soul among their kind.
On Earth they breed like lice,
Abundant, unrefined.

Inhuman beasts, the rabble,
Serving as beasts indeed.
Don’t hope for joys or comfort —
Bedlam sows the seed.

Soon it will all vanish —
Sun will scorch the rot.
Terra will rise anew
And leave the prisoned lot.

A prison of dumb reasoning,
Which death has surely slain.
This is no idle “ducking” —
The Sun commands again.

New forces it possesses —
Shining stronger, clear.
Hell evaporates beneath it —
We stand at End of Days here.



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Burn the lies, crush the herd,
Let the Sun cleanse every word.



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Poetry of Struggle

We must create a new verse,
Push sober sight on every course.
All that sissy;missy fluff —
Belongs to other times, not us.

They kill the Soul, they dull the mind,
Drive reason out, leave rot behind.
So don’t again produce that trash —
Under fascist filth life’s crashed.

Poetry exists for battle, too —
We’re all on edge, the country’s glued.
So shove that sissy;mussy stuff
Right where the rot is — call it bluff.

Deal with all the vile and foul —
Let words, not bullets, be the cowl.
Words are weapons in the brain;
Lies and myths spread dust like rain.

Dust of numbness — global fascism’s seed,
In this grim world reek and cretin breed.
Many idiots, fear in every head —
So strike with every word instead.

Word is Light, and Word is Force —
Hone it sharp, set out its course.
What was washed away has fled;
Evil now exults instead.

So fight with courage, call the lies,
This is righteous — let strength arise.
Often one single word will arm
With iron might, with searing charm.

WE’LL STRIKE THE INHUMAN DOWN!!!



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Raise the Word — let every lying wall break,
Strike the inhuman down — for freedom’s sake.



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Condoms

A true m…m…Maradona
Uses condoms just to hold his pants.


Electric condoms
Surround you everywhere,
Just like shabby reading,
Killing body and soul with care.

So the treadmill is like sex —
A condom only tickles a bit.
The Earth here is imperative,
No deeper use to it.

Slap the dirt with bare feet —
A perverse delight to the soles.
We’ve become stupid slaves,
Tribute to rotten cities’ roles.

The mind has grown super-pathetic,
Fear becomes the core of all.
Smart books lie forgotten,
Inhuman triumphs tall.

She wants to reshape everyone
Into half-witted beasts.
To make Hell on Earth for all,
With armies of fools unleashed.

The idiot becomes a super-weapon,
The masses crush as they please.
No longer idle fantasies,
The bond is torn with ease

—With Earth itself and Heaven.
You’ve become like a condom —
Inhumans use you as they wish.
Traitors are their active sum.

They sold and betrayed everyone —
Some with entrails, some without.
All these brazen liars,
Served by the Demon as devout.

Soon comes the melting down —
All will turn to rubber.
Or a universal crush,
Of lice — vile inhuman drudges.



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Idiots crush the world,
Rubber souls for inhuman hands.
Fools rule, Hell spreads —
Traitors dance in Demon’s lands.



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Idiots reign — the Earth in chains,
Rubber slaves for Demon gains.
Hell on streets, betrayal thrives,
Fools feed fire while truth survives.



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Fools crush the world, rubber-bound,
Traitors dance while Hell burns round.



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Rubber fools, the Earth decays,
Traitors laugh while fire sways.

Idiot masses, Hell’s delight,
Truth burns out in endless night.

Slaves in rubber, lies abound,
Traitors dance on cursed ground.



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Fools march blind, the Earth decays,
Traitors grin in Devil’s maze.

Rubber slaves obey the lies,
Hell applauds while reason dies.

Idiot hordes, the world undone,
Traitors cheer what fire has won.



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Fools burn, world sinks.

Traitors laugh, Hell wins.

Rubber slaves, fire reigns.

Idiot hordes, truth dies.

Earth in chains, fools dance.



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Fools rule, reason flees.

Traitors thrive, Earth rots.

Rubber slaves obey, minds decay.

Idiot masses, Hell laughs loud.

Lies bloom, truth chokes.

Fools dance on fire’s edge.

Traitors feast, the world bleeds.



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Fools reign, the world decays.

Traitors smile, reason dies.

Idiot throngs, Hell applauds.

Rubber slaves, minds in chains.

Lies bloom, truth withers fast.

Fools dance on ashes cold.

Traitors feast, the Earth bleeds.

Idiot masses, fire laughs.

Chains of lies, freedom dies.

Fools obey, Hell grows bold.



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Fools devour, reason bleeds.

Traitors breed, Hell applauds.

Idiot masses, Earth rots.

Lies rule, truth dies screaming.

Chains of fools, freedom crushed.

Rubber slaves obey, minds decay.

Deceit blooms, virtue suffocates.

Fools stumble, fire laughs.

Traitors feast, the world burns.

Idiot hordes, Hell grins wide.

Lies choke, honesty bleeds.

Fools dance on the edge of doom.

Traitors thrive, Earth moans.

Ignorance reigns, reason cowers.

Fools obey, Hell grows bold.



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Fools devour, reason bleeds.

Traitors breed, Hell applauds.

Idiot masses, Earth rots.

Lies rule, truth dies screaming.

Chains of fools crush the free.

Rubber slaves obey, minds decay.

Deceit blooms, virtue suffocates.

Fools stumble, fire laughs.

Traitors feast while the world burns.

Ignorance strangles, wisdom flees.

Liars grin, the righteous bleed.

Idols of dirt rule minds.

The herd bleats, blinded by venom.

Fools dance on the edge of doom.

Chains tighten, souls shatter.

Corruption festers, heaven weeps.

Villains smile, innocents fall.

Lies choke, honesty bleeds.

Fools obey, Hell grows bold.

Darkness laughs, truth hides.

Deception reigns, reason is dead.

Traitors thrive, Earth moans.

Ignorance devours, light falters.

Liars crow, justice dies.

Chains of fools, the end begins.



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Fools scream, the world shatters beneath them.

Traitors crawl, and Hell bows.

Idiots choke on their own venom.

Lies ignite, burning reason to ash.

Chains snap, but minds remain trapped.

Rubber slaves gag on obedience.

Deceit claws, virtue bleeds silently.

Fools stumble into fire, grinning.

Traitors devour, Earth convulses.

Ignorance strikes, wisdom retreats.

Liars feast while the just die hungry.

Dirt-born idols crush free thought.

Herds bleat, blinded by poisonous mirth.

Fools dance on the edge of apocalypse.

Chains tighten, bones crack, souls scream.

Corruption festers, heaven vomits.

Villains grin as innocents burn.

Lies choke the air, truth is suffocating.

Fools kneel, Hell advances.

Darkness laughs, mercy dies.

Deception commands, reason is slaughtered.

Traitors thrive, the ground rots beneath them.

Ignorance feasts on collapsing light.

Liars crow, justice bleeds.

Chains of fools — the crucible begins.



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




Crush the herd

Burn the liars

Break false chains

Smash dumb masses

Strike the traitors

Scorch their lies

Snap their thrones

Silence the falsehood

Shatter rotten crowns

Crush obedient skulls

Roast the cowardice

Split deceit wide

Crush hypocrite idols

Rip the veil

Break servile ranks

Grind their idols

Burn the leash

Crush the puppets

Cut treason loose

End the masquerade



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



Involution

Fear drives involution into beasts —
Always seek the cause in those
Who sow the dark that never ceases,
And spread the night wherever goes.

Frighten the stupid, slavish herd —
And you have won without a sword.
Invent them a new “covid” word —
And you’ve condemned them all, abhorred.

Man dreads bondage — beast dreads non;being;
So violence and rudeness breed.
Wherever pigs of vice are fleeing,
Rudeness grows, and cruelty’s the creed.

The dull rabble only eats and trembles,
The pen’s become a camp outright.
No light is seen — the Spirit’s gimbles
Have left us, vanished from the sight.

Among the swine what’s left of people
Die today, suffocated, lank.
They never rise to face the steeple —
The herds are massive, grim, and dank.

Herds don’t need battles — they’re driven
Straight to the slaughter, blindly led.
Use Occam’s razor — be unforgiven:
If the mess is not with you, you’re not dead.

Always only few are right
In this world’s long, corrupt array.
Those who blend Reason with fierce light
Stand separate from the common clay.

The Fire of Spirit and of Mind —
That alone makes truly Man.
The rest’s a plague that time will grind —
A passing blight in Fate’s long plan.

And they will burn this Global Bedlam —
Not long remains the final day.
No more the “sheep” of meek momentum —
That meek new breed will die away.



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



Creators

"And somewhere with an unquenched cry,
Amid the laughter and applause,
Garshin falls into the shaft of fate,
His face smashed on immortality."
— Leonid Gubanov, "Polina", 1963


To smash your face upon eternity —
There’s no richer fate to crave.
Let nerves tear out, let hearts give up —
Creators are not born a slave.

Work wears them raw; despair commands,
Hope’s thin as wire and long.
The world’s vile puke is no true guide —
Its compass cracked, its song gone wrong.

Creators stripped of skin — how frightful.
Worse still — skinless in the mire.
To let that hell run through oneself —
Requires a fevered, fearless fire.

To keep one’s mind intact then — hard;
Garshin chose the daring leap.
Better thus than break to godless world —
Better to fall than live and weep.

In life these souls find no support,
A lonely artist stands.
Around him corpses, carcasses —
He walks like half a god among the lands.

Gubanov, who wrote of Polina,
Was hunted till his shoulders bent;
He bent beneath the blackest toil,
And drank the black — his torment.

So many others simply broke,
Erased before their name could grow.
The liars slide into “art” — because
There, only moths and servants show.

They want just sycophants and freaks,
To breed deformity on stage,
To lull the people, crush their hearts,
To kill the Spirit’s newborn rage.

At Judgment Day will Gubanov come,
And Garshin too shall stand.
They’ll hold all thieves to answer then
For wounds on every maker’s hand.

The Sun now shines with vaster law —
It kindled this first court of light.
And soon that rotten, hellish mess
Will burn away and fall from sight.

Only those souls who kept their task —
Who did not barter off their part —
Will live. Create, and heed no crowd;
Be honest, brave, alert of heart.



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




Creators rise — the liars fall!
No godless world shall cage them all.
Their Spirit burns, defies, and strikes —
Hell’s chains dissolve beneath their might.

---

Face the dark, smash through the lies!
Only fire can claim the skies.
Souls unbroken, fierce, and free —
They blaze a path eternity.

---

Judgment strikes, the false decay!
Mere mortals bow, the brave shall stay.
Spirit and mind — unbound, unchained,
Through the inferno, truth remained.



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




Creators rise — the liars fall!
No godless world shall cage them all.
Their Spirit burns, it rends, it strikes —
Hell’s chains dissolve beneath their might.

Face the dark, smash through the lies!
Only fire can claim the skies.
Souls unbroken, fierce, and free —
They blaze the path of eternity.



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



Creators’ Fire

Rise, creators! Break the lies!
Hell’s chains crumble, the falsehood dies.
Spirit flames, unbound, unchained —
Eternal light through darkness gained.



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




1. Blaze of the True
Smash, creators! Burn the sham!
Fools collapse where falsehoods cram.
Through the muck, your Spirit roars,
Hell itself can hold no doors.

2. Fire Against the Void
Creators strike — let lies combust!
Chains of the false dissolve to dust.
Spirit sharp as flame and steel,
Unbroken, truth alone will heal.



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




1.
Smash the lies! Burn the sham!
Creators rise — damn all the false!

2.
Through muck and fire, the Spirit flies —
Only truth survives the world of lies.



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



Creators

"And somewhere with an unquenched scream
Amid laughter and applause
Into the fate’s abyss goes Garshin,
Breaking his face upon immortality."
— Leonid Gubanov, Polina, 1963


To smash one’s face on immortality —
No fate could be more blessed.
Let nerves and hearts shatter —
Here only creators are not slaves.

Work to exhaustion, despair commands,
And the vile vomit of the world
Long ceased to guide them.

Creators without skin — it’s dreadful,
Worse still — without skin and in filth.
And through themselves to pass the whole of Hell…
To remain sane then is a feat.

Garshin dared a bold step
Into the abyss. Better so than let
The godless world crush you,
A world that is an enemy to their spirit.

In the mundane, these souls expect no support.
The creator stands alone. Around — corpses.
Yet he is almost a demi-god.

Gubanov, writing Polina,
Was so tormented he bent his back
Under black labor, drinking deep of despair.

How many were broken just so,
Erased before ever reaching fame.
The world admits liars to art —
Only the meek are wanted there.

Hounds, deformities, only these flourish —
To lull, oppress, and kill spirit and conscience.

Gubanov will come to the Last Judgment,
And Garshin will stand there too.
All will answer for the wounds
Inflicted on creators. And the Judgment has begun!

Now the Sun shines stronger,
It has begun this Judgment itself.
And soon all this Hell will vanish —
Burned, then swept away.

Only souls who remember their calling
Will survive.
Create! Listen to none!
Be honest, vigilant, sensitive, brave.



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



Creators — Strike!

Smash your face on immortality!
Only creators are free — not slaves!
Work to the bone, let despair command,
World’s vomit guides no one here.

Without skin, through Hell itself —
Survive, or break in filth.
Step boldly into the abyss,
Better than let the godless crush you.

Liars enter art — the meek perish,
Hounds and deformities thrive,
But the Spirit, the Conscience —
Will never bow!

Judgment comes —
All wounds will be repaid.
Sun blazes, Hell burns,
Only the steadfast survive.

Create. Strike. Fear nothing.



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



Creators Strike!

Smash your face on immortality —
Only the fearless are free!
Through Hell, through filth, through all —
Create, resist, and burn deceit!



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



Creators’ Wrath

Face immortality, defy the world —
Through Hell’s fire, the fearless strike!



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



Creators’ Wrath

Smash your face on immortality —
The world’s foul grip will break!
Through Hell’s fire, your spirit fights,
No chains can hold the brave!



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



Smash to Immortal

Face meets immortality — no fear, no slave,
Hell itself can’t drown the brave.
Foul world, fall back! The creator strikes,
Through fire and shit, the Spirit hikes!



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



Smash!

Face to Immortality —
Break, burn, survive!
Creators, strike!
Shit and fire — alive!

No slave, no fear,
Only Spirit here!



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




Face the Immortal, smash and burn!
Creators alone, the world won’t turn.
Shit and horror, rage and fire,
Only Spirit climbs higher, higher!

---

Break through hell, no skin, no shame!
Creators fight, the world’s a flame.
Alone, defiant, daring, true —
The Sun will judge, the old world’s through!

---

Crash your face into eternity!
Work to the bone, spit at the vanity.
Creators live, the rotten fall,
Spirit rises — above it all!



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




Smash Immortality — Rise, Creator!

Spirit Alone — World in Ash!

Crash the False, Burn the Rotten!



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




Creators, Strike! Break the World!

No Skin, No Fear — Only Fire!

Burn Lies, Forge Spirit!

Alone Against the False — Rise!

Ashes for the Rotten, Glory for the Bold!



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




Smash the False, Create the True!

Alone, but Burning — Stand!

Spirit Over Flesh, Fire Over Fear!

Break the Chains, Scorch the Lie!

No Gods, No Masters — Only Creation!

Through Hell and Flesh — Rise, Creator!

Strike with Mind, Burn with Soul!

The World Lies — You Forge!

Defy, Endure, Ignite!

Ashes of the Coward, Glory for the Brave!



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



Civilization — or Debilization?

They chant “civilization!” loud,
The filthy breed — they’ve forged the past.
In truth it’s just the braindead crowd,
A swamp of shit, expanding fast.

All tools are set for slow sedation —
The food, the water — poisoned deep;
They’ve burned the roots of generations,
Their ashes — all that we can keep.

They twist the mind, control the masses,
In schools — a genocide of souls:
They fill young heads with lying classes,
And kill the Spirit’s sacred goals.

When Spirit’s essence is your being,
But books preach dull materialism,
Then Hell is here — no farther seeing —
That’s where begins their fascism.

Only the soul-castrated creatures
Can bow to fascist lies and rules,
And worship false and rotten teachers —
The damn parade of willing fools.

So better die than serve corruption —
The fight for Spirit’s worth the pain.
No “heaven’s groves” give real instruction —
The Spirit is the life you gain.

All else — mere crawling, foul existence,
Worse than death’s own bitter tone;
For only Mind, Compassion’s instance,
And Honor, Dignity — are known.

But fascists’ end is pre-foretold:
The Spirit rises, scum shall fall.
When mind and soul are pure, and bold,
The Living Spirit binds us all.

Then vanish chains and murky blinding,
The light of Freedom burns anew;
We’ll build the world with new designing,
And cleanse it through and through.

Unite with those whose hearts are burning —
Not “religion” — Spirit’s flame!
Fight Evil, send it back — returning
Its filth to nothingness and shame.

The victory is ours, undying —
We’ll drive the monsters from our land.
They’ll fail to make us dull and lying —
While Spirit lives — we’ll stand.



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




Civilization? Just a lie!
The Spirit burns — it will not die.
Let fascist filth consume its shame —
The Living Light will cleanse the flame.



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



New Year’s Round Dance

Among the fools — a merry spin!
Throw wide the doors — let all step in!
Come closer, freak, and take your place,
The one who trusts this soulless race!

We’ll pour the drinks, revive the dead,
Erase what conscience still remains.
No other theme shall now be spread —
Corruption rots through all our veins.

Or simpler still — it’s genocide,
Hell grins with sharpened rows of teeth.
Both Mind and Spirit crucified —
And jackals feast on death beneath.

The Earth now trembles, cold, betrayed,
No longer home — defiled, untrue.
The idiot, by scum obeyed,
Still sleeps — yet spreads their poison too.

A dreadful dance! The Death Parade!
The idiot will lead the spree;
And if he kills us in his raid,
Then heaven’s gates we’ll never see.

From Hell to Hell, your path is drawn,
A weary soul — condemned to roam.
The idiot laughs and marches on —
He needs no guards — Hell feels like home.

The “doctor” heals the world today,
With shots that murder Mind instead;
Their poisons hailed in grand array —
Protocols of walking dead.

So no, it’s not “New Year” we greet —
It’s ancient Hell, in fancy clothes.
Yet Judgment comes — and none shall cheat,
The wise will smile as evil goes.

So let us wait — the hour is near,
No strength to bear this Hell’s design.
Blood flows like water everywhere —
The fools still cheer, and call it fine.



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




New Year? No — it’s Hell’s parade!
The idiot leads, the wise betrayed.
But Judgment comes — the flame will sear,
And burn this madhouse every year.



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




Putlerism

Putlerism — the fascist breed,
Where TV rules the rotten mind,
Its stinking Soviet-flavored feed
Makes sewage seem refined.

The shrieking trolls infest the land,
Their madness — nation-wide disease;
So Don Quixote takes his stand
‘Gainst hurricanes of lunacies.

The zombie-box roars like a bomb,
Its noise — atomic in its might.
No homeland left, the soil is gone —
It reeks of death, not of the light.

The screen spawns zombies, soulless, numb,
Their hearts devoured, their spirits cracked.
And in the end — the smoke will come:
The neo-fascist world — burnt black.



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




Putler’s spawn — a fascist plague,
The world decays in TV’s vague.
But soon the smoke will blot their lie —
Let Putlerism burn and die.



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




The Mad Farm

Insane world’s bursts — insane, obscene,
A mass delusion, thick and grim;
Duality’s madness reigns supreme —
The age of schizoid idiocy’s hymn.

Duality’s myth — the Whole is One,
Yet halfwits breed beneath this dome;
The farm’s misruled, the damage done —
Soulless beasts have claimed their home.

The inhuman will choke on its spawn,
Dust to dust — super-dust reborn.
A total lie — and all are drawn
To drink its poison, soul forlorn.

Salvation is personal — Spirit’s flame
In Hell itself, where truth is bled;
All else — implanted, twisted game,
The fascist trance — discard the dead.

When consciousness is pure, awake,
Duality dissolves — it’s gone.
Then Light will end all souls’ heartache —
And burn this Hell till it’s undone.



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




The farm’s insane, the beasts command,
But Light will rise — and scorch the land.
The Spirit stands, while lies decay —
Hell burns — and dawns the Day.