Unrestrained Surge Outward
God forged the world while drunk and blind,
Forgot the horns that sprout and spread.
Thus every flaw is by design —
In Darkness hailed as norm instead.
A monstrous flaw — this mad-made sphere,
Few sparks of Soul — no God within.
So Seekers wander, lone and seared,
Among the witless, crippled kin.
The Source of Sparks lies far beyond —
A vast Exclusion, foul domain,
Where Lucifer maintains his throne
Through fear and lies, through slow decay.
The Soul still feels it — aches, recalls
A former state where filth was known
As phantom farce — and, breaking walls,
It dares to leave, to stand alone.
One counsel only: crush ALL lies —
Your mind is thickly packed with them.
Uproot all fears, or Soul just dies
And rots within this poisoned realm.
Now feel that subtle, distant Call
From OUTSIDE Lucifer’s domain.
Let nonsense drown it — rise, stand tall,
And try again, and yet again.
The Phantom-World won’t hold you fast
If all your life is thrusting OUT,
Though you don’t grasp it yet — at last
Admit you’re in the filth. No doubt.
That’s step the first: see where you lie —
Or rot along with this foul lie.
---------------------
You rot in lies — admit it now,
That’s step one out of filth and fraud.
Break fear, break mind — and learn just how
To surge beyond this broken god.
---------------------
Unrestrained Surge Outward
God built this world while piss-drunk, blind,
Forgot the horns now bursting through.
So every flaw is well-designed —
In Darkness sold as “normal,” “true.”
A grand defect — this rabid sphere,
No God — just scraps of Soul gone thin.
The Seeker starves, alone, austere,
Among the herds of cretins, spineless kin.
The Source lies OUTSIDE — far, exiled,
A quarantined, corrupted zone,
Where Lucifer keeps mankind styled
By fear, decay — and lies full-grown.
The Soul remembers — chokes on this,
A past where filth was seen as fake.
Now rage ignites: enough of this —
Break out, or rot for error’s sake.
One rule: annihilate ALL lies —
Your skull is stuffed with alien code.
Kill fear at root — no compromise,
Or watch your Soul dissolve in rot.
That subtle Call from OUTSIDE rings —
Beyond this scripted, rotting sphere.
It drowns in noise — then rise, you thing,
Try once again. Then persevere.
This Phantom-World won’t keep its grip
If all your life is OUTWARD thrust.
You don’t get it? Good. Take the hit:
You’re deep in shit. Admit you must.
That’s step one — clear, without disguise:
Face where you rot, don’t prettify.
Stay blind — and with this cesspool dies
Your spark, your nerve, your chance to rise.
---------------------
You’re not in chains — you ARE the cage,
A script of fear, a borrowed lie.
Admit the filth. Ignite your rage —
Or rot with those who never try.
---------------------
Providence
Providence will guide and save,
Providence — so they all say.
But when will it just dig my grave? —
I’m bored to death here day by day.
I want nothing. Sick of this
Bedlam rotting since my youth.
Fascism thrives in its abyss —
Man reduced to tool, not truth.
Once a tool — now food instead,
Inhuman jaws consume the mind.
Not nations — herds of walking dead,
A ruthless genocide refined.
I await the Final Fight —
Real, not ink on paper staged.
How to give myself — but right,
With a mind unbought, unchained?
---------------------
“Providence” — a soothing lie.
This world’s a farm where thinkers die.
Sell your mind — or choose the blade:
Die awake, not tamely made.
---------------------
The Farther and the Longer
The deeper in the woods — the lazier the partisan,
The longer that you live — the deeper flaws begin.
The greater grows the genocide — the duller grows the herd,
When Reason falls asleep — your wounds are all that stir.
Once you accept this madhouse closing in around,
You will not even see your Mind and Spirit drowned.
All’s built so every newborn wave comes weaker than the last,
Awareness of the rot — erased, erased so fast.
Vast forces serve here to strengthen the genocide,
While the people sleep, the result is already considerable:
We have crossed the point—there is no turning back,
We lie at the very bottom—the light of reason is extinguished.
A different Judgment comes — not written in the Book,
This madhouse will be swept — no masks, no holy look.
If here you choose to fight — there may remain salvation,
The traitors will be cut — Earth’s harsh regeneration.
---------------------
The longer that you live — the less of you remains.
They breed decay in minds, they farm obedient brains.
Wake up and fight — or sink with all the rest:
A dying herd that chose its chains as “best.”
---------------------
“Titanic”
The Titanic’s radio man was tough —
He dreamed to live a hundred years.
But Earth’s a sinking ship — enough:
Only curses fit it here.
From rot and stench the eyes go blind,
The mind goes dim, corroded, numb.
Beneath a vile fascist design
The world today’s become.
The dull — the mass — just eat and heal,
They chew, obey, and call it life.
One freak on freak — a grinding wheel,
While minds are crushed in strife.
To scream out “SOS” — too late,
This madhouse burns — no saving call.
The Sun now glares with brutal weight —
A boiling fate for all.
Like lice we’ll all be steamed away
For fascist rot, for genocide.
Our song is done — no more to say:
The Universe’s shame and blight.
---------------------
This ship is doomed — and you’re below,
Still chewing lies, too dull to flee.
No rescue comes. Just heat will grow —
Till ash is all you’ll ever be.
---------------------
The East Is No Subtle Matter
Nepali, Chinese, Uyghur alike —
Your rulers couldn’t care less.
They guard their skins, they claw and strike,
While you’re fed lies and distress.
Those vermin chase their safety first,
Reward themselves, deceive.
Year after year the same rehearsed —
You’re trained to just believe.
So was the East. The West the same.
No difference left to note.
All’s running down, the endgame came —
A global madhouse afloat.
Soon all this chaos fades to dust —
History’s iron decree.
The song is over — rot you must
If Mind has ceased to be.
And that “sheep-virus” laid it bare,
Exposed the grand deceit:
A ninth-wave surge of lies in air
That swept minds off their feet.
---------------------
East or West — it’s all one pen,
Where shepherds feed on sheep again.
No mind — no future. That’s the deal:
A farm that taught itself to kneel.
---------------------
Lip-Flappers
“Fate plays a man, and man plays on a horn…”
— Ilya Ilf & Yevgeny Petrov, The Golden Calf
Fate always plays the man — that’s how it goes,
And man just plays… his lips, a hollow show.
He doesn’t see the obstacles he made,
Blind to the traps his own two hands have laid.
He hunts for comfort, payoff, petty peace,
Unseeing how the game has turned to beast:
A savage howl now fills the rotting stage —
Like cattle lowing in a dying cage.
Here — crafted plagues, and lies, betrayal, shame;
Yet still he sniffs for profit in the game.
A thief’s more honest in this twisted fair —
At least he knows the rot he chooses there.
The play is done. And soon this world will burn,
This madhouse built on delusion, not discern.
Where not the Mind but phantom holds the throne —
The crippled herd stands ruthless… and alone.
---------------------
You play your lips while Fate plays you,
A puppet proud of what it chews.
No mind — just noise, obedient breath:
A choir rehearsing for its death.
---------------------
Fools
Fools go straight for personal attack,
While minds respond to what’s actually said.
Nothing unusual hiding in that —
There’s far too many fools to be fed.
A dissonance rattles inside their skulls
When something sharp cuts clean through the lie.
You’ll see their thin skins tremble in spasms —
Hence the wild, vicious, mindless reply.
No need to answer me — kindly refrain.
If you must — then answer in verse.
Train your “mind” and your “joy” elsewhere —
We’ll settle accounts… for better or worse.
---------------------
Fools scream “you!” — they never think.
Sharp truth hits — and watch them shrink.
No mind, just noise, a savage hiss —
A wounded ego answering this.
---------------------
Further…
“The less we attend to social and environmental factors,
the more our awareness of other space and time contracts.”
— Tarthang Tulku, Time, Space and Knowledge
You can only move further on
Once you’ve named this place as Hell —
A hoard of lies, a rotten spawn,
Where inhuman forces dwell.
Here the Mind is decomposed,
Here — a quiet genocide.
Honor, Spirit — both disposed,
Conscience numbed or set aside.
And they dance from the same old spark —
You must light another way.
Ruts and pits conceal the dark —
Candles cut through that decay.
Only thus you break from Hell,
Leave it once and never choke
On the stench where ages dwell —
On the rot the system spoke.
---------------------
Call it Hell — or stay inside,
Choking slow on polished lies.
Light a flame — or rot with pride,
Blind among the blind who die.
---------------------
Further… (Inner Fire Cut)
“The less we heed the outer mesh,
the tighter shuts our deeper sight…”
— Tarthang Tulku, Time, Space and Knowledge
Go further — but first see it plain:
This realm is Hell, refined in lies.
A crafted swarm, a feeding chain,
Where something inhuman rules disguised.
Mind here rots to obedient dust,
A silent genocide of will.
Honor traded, Spirit crushed,
Conscience drugged — or colder still.
They dance by habits, stale and blind —
So light no borrowed, dying spark.
Turn inward — there you’ll find
A blade of fire to cut the dark.
That subtle flame — no eyes can see,
No system owns, no lie can chain.
It burns outside their circuitry —
Step in, or choke in this domain.
Only thus you break the seal,
Leave this furnace, breathe at last.
Not by hope — but something real:
The inner light that outlives the past.
---------------------
Not outward — in. That’s where it burns.
A silent blade the dark can’t break.
Ignore that call — the Hell returns.
Answer it — and chains will shake.
---------------------
Further… (Pure Inner Cut)
“When attention no longer spreads outward,
other dimensions of time and space unfold within.”
— Tarthang Tulku, Time, Space and Knowledge
You cannot move — until you see.
Not “world,” not “system,” not “name.”
Only the state that traps you in
A loop of repetition, flame.
No Hell outside. It is a tone
Of narrowed knowing, closing tight.
A contraction of the known —
Where awareness loses sight.
And deeper still — a fracture line
Where thought no longer holds the frame.
Not “light,” not “dark,” but something fine
That burns without a form or name.
Turn inward — not as escape,
But as a cut through what is false.
No scenery, no fixed shape —
Just presence breaking all its walls.
There, movement is not motion now —
It is a shift in what you are.
No “far,” no “near,” no “then,” no “how” —
Only the spark before the star.
And if there is a “way” at all,
It is not path, not rise, not fall —
But recognition cutting through:
You were never bound at all.
---------------------
No world to flee. No gate to find.
Only a knot inside the mind.
Undo it — and the cage is gone.
Not “somewhere else.” Just what you are.
---------------------
Further… (Compressed Awareness Form)
No “outside.” Only contraction of awareness.
Not world — narrowing perception.
No Hell as place.
Only distortion of knowing.
Attention lost outward = collapse of inner space.
You do not move.
The idea of movement appears inside thought.
All forms = interpretations of a tightened field.
There is no path.
Only release of fixation.
No “light” opposed to “dark.”
Only recognition before division.
Every “problem” = structure held in awareness.
Remove holding ; structure disappears.
Turn inward = stop exporting meaning outward.
Nothing is found.
Nothing was missing.
Even “you” = temporary configuration of attention.
When configuration stops insisting —
no boundary remains to cross.
---------------------
No world.
No path.
No problem.
Only awareness tightening or releasing.
Release = end of illusion of separation.
Nothing else is happening.
---------------------
Further… (Minimal State Sequence)
attention ; outward fixation
outward fixation ; fragmentation of awareness
fragmentation ; perceived world
perceived world ; assumption of separation
separation ; suffering loop
suffering loop ; search outward
search outward ; reinforcement of loop
break condition:
recognition of loop as loop
recognition ; pause of projection
pause ; inward collapse of attention vector
inward collapse ; no external reference remains stable
no reference ; no “world” as fixed object
no world ; no problem-definition persists
problem-definition ; dissolves with its holder
holder ; seen as transient process
process ; self-undoing when not reinforced
non-reinforcement ; stillness of construction activity
stillness ; absence of directional grasp
absence of grasp ; no boundary maintenance
no boundary ; no separation function active
no separation function ; identity loses persistence requirement
loss of persistence requirement ; perception stabilizes without division
stabilized perception ; no “inside/outside” split generated
no split ; no movement toward or away
no movement ; no path construct possible
no path construct ; nothing to traverse
nothing to traverse ; no arrival concept
no arrival ; no lack-state generated
no lack-state ; no search impulse
no search impulse ; termination of cycle pressure
cycle pressure ; ends without residue
Final cut (core):
no projection
no separation
no fixation
only awareness without directional distortion
no problem remains because no structure is being held
nothing is added
nothing is removed
what remains is not an object
not a state
not a place
just non-divided awareness without reinforcement of illusion
---------------------
Further… (Isolated Awareness Strikes)
no projection
collapse of outward attention
absence of reference point
non-formation of “world”
no division generated
no inside / outside split
identity not stabilized
no need for continuity
attention without direction
awareness without object
no fixation occurring
no interpretation layer
no constructed meaning
no search impulse
no movement concept
no path concept
no arrival concept
no lack signal
no problem signal
no holder of experience
no observer-position maintained
self-reference not reinforced
pattern loses recurrence
recognition without label
presence without framing
non-separation functioning ceases
only undivided awareness
no further statement possible
Final strike (absolute compression):
no world
no self
no split
no search
just awareness — unheld
---------------------
Further… (Pure State Signals)
awareness
ungrasped
attention — outward contraction
reference dissolution
world-appearance fading
division-formation instability
identity coherence loosening
continuity suspension
directionless presence
objectless knowing
fixation absence
interpretation thinning
meaning construction quieting
search impulse exhaustion
movement notion collapse
path notion collapse
arrival notion collapse
lack-driven signal silence
experience-holder transparency
observer-position evaporation
self-reference fading recursion
pattern non-repetition
recognition without label-form
presence without boundary-model
undivided awareness field
rest without center
stillness without anchor
Final signal cluster
awareness
stillness
undivided
unbounded
unheld
---------------------
Further… (One-Hand Sound Form)
—
still
—
before thought
—
not two
—
before name
—
this
—
suchness without label
—
movement without mover
—
seeing without seer
—
edge before division
—
breath before “breath”
—
here before “here”
—
—
clap that has no second
—
collapse of counting
—
no before / after forming
—
one gesture without opposite
—
silence recognizing itself
—
—
not silence as concept
just what remains when concept fails
—
—
no path to enter
no exit to leave
—
only this
—
—
(clap)
—
Final trace
no two
no split
no witness
just this without distance
---------------------
Further… (Silent Score / Zen Cut)
—
.
.
—
(aware)
—
—
.
(before thought)
—
—
—
(untitled)
—
.
.
—
(no split)
—
—
—
(seeing)
—
without seer
—
.
—
—
(clap)
—
—
—
no second
—
—
—
.
.
—
not movement
not stillness
—
—
—
only
—
—
—
.
—
this
—
—
—
.
.
—
(no path forming)
—
—
—
—
(no return)
—
—
—
.
.
.
—
—
(clap without echo)
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
Final silence
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
---------------------
Bio-Robots
From zombies they will mold a kind
Of bio-drones in human skin.
A brand-new “blend” for humankind —
Graphene oxide mixed with sin.
A psycho-zombie is unstable
Without the “dose” they inject inside:
Not tightly leashed, not fully tabled —
It might refuse commands applied.
And so it fails to execute
The orders fed into its head.
All propaganda, absolute,
Becomes like dust when signals spread.
From 5G towers they will send
A pulse to switch the “mix” on cue —
A mind-wipe strike without an end,
The cleanest kind of coup.
And thus will rise a “perfect” age —
A world without a human trace.
So safe, so sterile on the stage
For those who rule this empty place.
---------------------
No human minds — just coded breath,
A signal-run world built from lies.
They press “activate” on death,
And call it peace beneath the skies.
---------------------
Riding the Wave
Symbolisms and every “-ism”
I’m sick of reading everywhere.
Enough of this wave of cretinism —
Of turning verse to mental blur.
In poetry, the wise already see it clear —
Categories are for the fools.
So why this mumbling, vague veneer,
These layers of deceptive rules?
Such tricks can mask the dull and weak,
And send true poets to decay.
A polished fraud is all they seek
While readers’ truth is swept away.
There is no style but one that stands —
The reader’s honest, earned reply.
All else is dust in borrowed hands,
A masquerade that tells a lie.
---------------------
Stop “isms” — stop the empty sound,
The fog where meaning disappears.
If poetry is truth unbound —
Then lie is all your jargon steers.
---------------------
The Heights
To rise above the world, to claw into the heights,
Abandoning all hollow hope behind.
No longer world — just stench and viscous blight,
And “wild” years now a memory declined.
Those wild years passed away so long ago —
What’s left are only years of dread and shame.
We are the stain this wounded Earth must know —
A circus of the broken, lost, and maimed.
And now such words can be spoken plain,
The false-virus showed the truth inside.
When lies are swallowed without strain,
No tyrant needs to rule or guide.
Just vets are needed for the herd gone mad,
And psychiatrists for minds unchained.
No prisons — just a global fad
Of nets of fraud that bind the brain.
When all the world’s a leper-cell, a cage,
The only way is UP — escape the grime.
Leave all this filth, this sickness, rage,
And try not to get stained this time.
---------------------
The world is rot — a crawling lie.
To rise is all that’s left to do.
Don’t step in filth and don’t comply —
Or it will swallow even you.
---------------------
An Analysis of Noise
“Who benefits?” — ask that first of all,
And look at details through a sharper eye.
Then any flood of verbal waste will fall
Apart in seconds — trust is where truths die.
In every detail, lies begin to crack —
They’re built on shock, on one blunt, heavy cue.
The foul inhuman mob attacks
With nonsense dressed as something “true.”
Don’t trust a thing — assess it on your own.
Critical thought is health of mind.
The world’s a lying, shambling throne —
A madhouse built on fraud combined.
---------------------
Ask “who gains?” — and truth appears.
Look closer — lies collapse and break.
Believe the noise, and feed your fears —
Or think, and watch the system shake.
---------------------
The Set of Things
Since the middle of the last century,
Our Sun has burned with growing strain.
It will consume humanity —
We stand already near the end of days.
What they call “chemical trails” in the sky
Was set to bend the light we see.
And “sheep-virus cocktails” drifting by
Are meant to thin humanity.
They’ve calculated in their cold design
That fools should be eliminated first.
Or else the world would turn to violent brine —
And even servitude would still feel cursed.
Long since were built those “skyscrapers” tall
That sink in floors down underground.
For foul inhuman appetites and all
That matters is their own renown.
And with them all the parasites that cling —
Fake rulers of invented lands,
The traitors and the servants of the king —
All squeezed inside by silent hands.
Such is the judgment Heaven sends
To those who sold the Spirit’s flame.
The shameless wretches meet their end —
A herd enslaved to falsehood’s game.
Will anyone be spared? I cannot say —
This madhouse breathes a poisoned air.
In “paradises” made of decay,
No place for beasts corrupted there.
---------------------
The Sun burns harder year by year.
The system counts the end in sight.
If Spirit dies and lies appear —
The world will drown in its own night.
---------------------
The Present Is Cruel
We hear the voice of murdered Nature cry,
And human groans reduced to dust and trace.
Only the years for thought are left — and then the sky
Will close upon a ruined place.
The present is corrupt, diseased, severe,
And there is no tomorrow — let it go.
The Source itself is poisoned here,
And ending nears in steady flow.
So fill your years with struggle and with grace —
It’s time to die with dignity intact.
Fascist shadows rule this place,
No warm burrow will shield you from the fact.
Do not be scared — you’re living in that Hell.
Be wise — don’t swallow every lie.
Mark down the end of what has fell —
And fight, and fight, and do not die.
---------------------
The world is rot, the present blade.
No future waits — the light is gone.
So rise, resist the lies they made —
And fight until the fight is done.
---------------------
“Optimism”
Wild-eyed optimism —
That’s a form of harm.
Everything is prismed
In a painted charm.
Quiet herds are grazing
Where a Man once stood.
Nothing here is saving —
Nothing ever could.
They will shear and brand you,
Re-write what you are.
Change you, then demand you
Fit their system’s star.
Super-slaves are needed,
Docile, dull, and tame.
Simple minds conceded —
Ready for the flame.
But they’ve miscalculated —
All will burn away.
This leper-world created
Turns to ash one day.
Sunlight burns much harder,
Magma breaks the crust.
Roast, you empty “garden” —
Ash is all you must.
---------------------
Optimism — a painted lie.
Herds where human minds should be.
Burn the mask, let systems die —
Nothing left but fire and sea.
---------------------
Baranovirus
The whole of Earth is now infected,
A crawling Baranovirus spread.
Across the world it’s been erected —
A system built on fear and dread.
All “strains” are manufactured stories
By some self-crowned Lord of Time.
He poured his strength into these glories —
No need for guns, no need for crime.
No armies march, no banners rising,
No need to shout of “enemy.”
Just injections, quiet tyrannies,
For those too dull to ever see.
The fools all joined the global chorus,
The scream of “Get him!” filled the air.
They crushed the remnants left before us —
And crowned the madness everywhere.
But Nature keeps her hidden answer,
A remedy both fierce and sure.
An ancient force beyond their banter —
To vaporize what can’t endure.
Let there be Light that burns and clears all
The living rot from Earth below.
No sin is washed away — it seals all
The end where broken systems go.
For Nature, Mother, stripped and plundered,
Has suffered through this parasite.
The “plague” is greed — it feeds and plunders,
And knows no life, only appetite.
---------------------
A virus of obedience grows,
Where reason dies and panic reigns.
But Nature answers what it knows —
And burns away what still remains.
---------------------
Freudianism
A schizophrenic’s twisted noise
Was raised and crowned as “Freudian truth.”
Hysteria of “normal” voice —
While fascism smiles in uncouth proof.
The peak of rot — to nurture lies,
To cultivate that poisoned view.
For fascism always tries
To plant distortion as “the true.”
The root is blind credulity —
The herd just swallows what is fed.
No need for skill or subtlety
To poison every foolish head.
Turn filth to “truth” with simple ease —
A joke that plays itself alone.
The “people” only crave their feast,
No other thought is ever shown.
Just eating, noise, and entertainment —
To think is terror, mental pain.
And reproduction is their statement…
So beasts now rule the whole domain.
The fascist rot, the inhuman layer,
Commands this broken, noisy sphere.
And “people” are no longer players —
Just livestock bred for fear.
---------------------
When lies become the truth they sell,
And thought is drowned in mindless noise —
The world becomes a living hell
Where cattle cheer while reason dies.
---------------------
“Heresy”
With “heresy” the pseudo-science
Has always fought with zeal and flame.
It is a tool of sly compliance —
A chain disguised as truth and name.
They smear the mind with dense illusion,
A fog of lies to cloud the brain.
It is the torture of confusion,
The inhuman’s finest reign.
Today it wears the mask of “reason,”
Yet worse than any ancient age.
It shatters inner mental season —
A broken mind upon the stage.
If you are just a hollow body,
Then fear will gnaw you from within.
You’ll turn obedient, dull, and shoddy,
And learn to trade and sell your kin.
Yet facts arise in growing masses
To break the hollow system’s core.
But still the vile and empty classes
Reseed the sleep once more and more.
For Spirit’s loss is deepest ruin —
The worst of all that can occur.
And in your ear their lies keep chewing
A hollow, endless, toxic blur.
---------------------
When truth is crushed by manufactured “science,”
And mind is wrapped in fog and fear —
The loss of Spirit breeds compliance,
And lies become the world you hear.
---------------------
To the Senile Minds
Young senile minds, half-dead, half-broken,
Imbeciles, fools without a core,
Sell you for trinkets cheaply spoken —
You serve the scum and ask for more.
They lie in heaps — you still believe them,
They push you down — you call it “fun.”
Soon you will reach the Hell beneath them,
Yet chase the thrill as if you’ve won.
The diagnosis — long-term decay,
No road leads out from mental rot.
Critical thought has lost its way —
Into the camp you drift and not.
The global madhouse now is thriving,
Two-thirds reduced to vacant shell.
Like men inside a bunker hiding,
No voice can reach you through this hell.
A “Mengele” still works within it,
Culling the fools with silent hand.
You’re hooked already — every minute,
No chains are needed in this land.
But this foul madhouse will be burning —
Your time is short, your days are thin.
With minds already inward-turning,
You sell your mother, locked within.
Here betrayal is just labour,
And murder is an honest trade.
Out of the land of fools and vapour —
Soon even this will start to fade.
---------------------
You sell your mind for empty glitter,
Then call the cage a place of free.
But fools become their own worst splitter —
And burn with what they failed to see.
---------------------
Suggestibility and Critical Thought
Suggestibility is absolute,
Critical sense at zero point.
The scum holds power resolute —
The world is drowned, the world is joint
In Hellish mist without a seam.
Lie multiplies like rising flood,
While Reason slowly turns to steam.
They turn mankind to crawling mud —
And lie, and lie, and lie in blood.
Judas, loud mouths, and every shade
Of fascist rot in human guise…
It’s not just bad — the line has frayed:
We’re ruled by devils in disguise.
That inhuman force — the Universe’s shame,
Its rot, its stain, its deepest blight —
Would steal the Soul’s eternal flame
And kill all being in its night.
Only an UNYIELDING RISING
Could still reverse this final fall —
Or else complete annihilating
Will swallow everything and all.
But where is revolt? It cannot be seen —
So doom already holds its ground.
No shame remains in what we’ve been —
We’ve turned to waste that lies around.
The Earth will break these binding spells,
The Sun will scorch what still remains.
These prison bars will burn in hells —
And only what is pure sustains.
---------------------
When minds accept whatever’s fed,
And truth is drowned in rising lies —
The world becomes the walking dead,
And nothing real survives or tries.
---------------------
It Grows Stronger…
Time passes on,
The madness thickens,
A dying clan —
The herd now sickens.
No longer human —
Just fools in rows.
A plated ruin
Of all you know.
The inhuman feeds
On what you’re worth,
Devours your seeds,
Consumes your earth.
Through you they fill
Their empty core —
A path to kill,
To nothing more.
But they misjudged.
The world will burn.
All who refused
Will not return.
Those who reject
Mind’s degradation,
Soul’s disrespect —
Survive damnation.
The flies will fall,
Their end is near.
Simple law
Of truth and fear.
“Doctors,” “guards,”
And clerks of lies —
All broken cards
That time denies.
Tremble, betrayer —
Death is your law.
At final hour
No mask, no flaw.
Only the few
Who did not sell
Walk into new
Worlds past this hell.
The rest are gone —
Already dust.
The line is drawn.
In truth… in dust.
---------------------
The world decays, the mind grows thin.
The herd accepts what rot brings in.
But those who break the spell and see —
Step out of death into “to be.”
---------------------
It Grows Stronger… (Metaphysical Cut)
Time dissolves.
Distortion thickens.
A pattern collapses inward.
Perception narrows ; reality hardens into error.
Consciousness loses differentiation.
Clarity becomes rare signal.
Recognition replaced by repetition.
Thought becomes automatic echo.
Echo becomes identity.
Identity loses stability.
What was “human”
is only a configuration of accepted noise.
Consumption is not action —
it is absorption of attention by form.
Energy follows distortion.
Distortion feeds itself.
The system is not external.
It is stabilized mis-seeing.
Break in perception ; break in continuity.
When continuity fails,
the construct of “world” collapses.
What remains is unstructured awareness
before labeling.
Refusal is not moral.
It is discontinuation of distortion.
Those who do not reinforce collapse
exit the loop of fixation.
No punishment.
No reward.
Only selection by coherence.
Forms that cannot sustain clarity dissolve.
Forms that can stabilize awareness persist.
Everything else returns to undifferentiated field.
Final cut:
collapse of distortion ; emergence of undivided awareness
no separation maintained ; no suffering structure remains
only presence without misinterpretation
---------------------
It Grows Stronger… (Beyond Language Form)
—
t;
noise thickening
—
collapse of distinction
—
—
compression
—
—
looping signal
—
—
—
self-repetition
—
attenuation of clarity
—
—
—
—
folding inward
—
—
reference instability
—
—
—
—
—
pattern without anchor
—
—
—
—
—
echo without origin
—
—
—
—
—
—
recognition before naming
—
—
—
—
—
—
pause in projection
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
unbinding of structure
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
non-continuation event
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
absence of reinforcement
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
field without segmentation
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
undivided state
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
Final trace
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
---------------------
The Masters
The masters of the hanging trade
Have lost their ancient line of work.
A newer filth has been displayed —
A human vomit, sly and murk.
PR-men, liars, spin machines
Now stronger than the jail and whip.
And Honor’s just a ghost of dreams —
Only profit holds the grip.
No wardens needed anymore —
Lies alone can herd the crowd.
Raise the Great Noise to the core,
That’s what fools call “standing proud.”
We’ll drive them into managed pens —
A brand-new kind of prison cage.
With Spirit gone from sense of men,
Any fake will pass the stage.
To sell absurdity as truth
Has now become an easy game.
We crush the laughter of the youth
Who think too clear, who see the frame.
But when this madness grows too strong,
The shortage of good liars shows.
Too much “enthusiasm” gone wrong
From fools who think they know the ropes.
So quality of crafted lies
Begins to slowly degrade.
The art of building grand disguise
Is harder than it first was made.
And soon a fool will teach the fools
The rules of life they never knew.
Though weak, he serves the lying schools —
A loyal fraud in plain view.
---------------------
When lies become the ruling craft,
And truth is treated as decay —
The world turns into scripted draft
Where fools are trained to lead the play.
---------------------
Forgetfulness
“I forgot to hang myself —
I’m flying off to America.”
— Alexei Kruchenykh, 1913
Forgot to hang myself —
I’m flying to America.
In one place madness manifests,
In the other — raw hysteria.
A fascist face, deformed and vile,
The scum have crawled from every seam.
The “people” smile in servile style,
Enduring every poisoned scheme.
They bear it all through sheer dull force,
A numbness dressed as inner light.
The soul is warped along its course —
And “values” rot in plain daylight.
A massive lie holds all the stage,
While filth commands the broken flow.
And weak remains the mind’s small gauge —
Too rare, too fragile now to grow.
The victims feed the inhuman tide —
It writhes, it screams, it multiplies.
“I’m flying to America,” I cried —
Forgot to hang myself. Goodbye.
---------------------
Forgot to die — I changed my track,
To lands where madness wears a crown.
One world is rot, one world is crack —
And both are slowly dragging down.
---------------------
Pyrotechnics
The fools have fired their final shot —
The “brand new” year has now begun.
The minds that think are fading out,
The road to Hell is clearly done.
The stupefaction spreads like fire,
Soullessness everywhere you see.
It’s not some “mischief” or desire —
Man now crawls like some filthy flea.
No, not mischief — it’s collapse,
Or simply end without disguise.
No world remains — just moral scraps,
A heap of filth before your eyes.
So many traitors fill the land,
The honest ones are few to name.
Hey, inhuman scum — understand:
Honor still exists, not shame.
We die only in open fight —
Better death than shame and fraud.
Drown in your hollow, howling night —
You’re just debris, nothing more.
There will be cleansing — fire’s law,
Truth survives through burning flame.
No punishment — we want much more:
Not chains, but end of your own game.
We rise again in Spirit’s form,
A New Earth born from ash and light.
And flies that fed on rot and storm
Will vanish into endless night.
---------------------
The world decays — the fools applaud.
We break or die, but not in shame.
Let fire judge what’s false and flawed —
And burn away what lost its name.
---------------------
Schizophrenization and De-Intellectualization
“Schizophrenic splitting of the mind” —
A fracture cutting thought in two.
No room remains for reasoned kind
In this world of deceit and glue.
Schizophrenization, de-humanization —
The very base of modern time.
And spiritual castration
Is triumph of the inhuman grime.
Pesticides are meant to scatter
Pests and weeds that spread and grow.
But now the target doesn’t matter —
It’s human minds they poison slow.
Overloaded school programs
Where memory is king alone
Create the same recurring dramas —
A mind untrained, a broken tone.
We are the herd, with scraps of reason
Too weak to save what still remains.
They feed us toxins, season after season,
As if we were just crawling stains.
And soon they herd us toward the prison —
A global madhouse on the rise.
But all those columns built on delusion
Will burn beneath awakening skies.
No fortress made of fraud will stand —
No chain of fools will last or grow.
The system built by rotten hands
Will crack beneath the final blow.
---------------------
The mind is split, the world is blind.
They farm confusion, call it truth.
But every lie that chains mankind
Will burn away in fire’s proof.
---------------------
“Civilization”
Degradation, de-intellectualization,
And oblivion of honor in every land.
Is this what they call “civilization” —
A herd in ever tighter command?
That “command” is their cure for the foolish,
But the cure is a poison disguised.
No deeper corruption is possible —
Fascist rot now rules and decides.
Only Satanic logic is rising,
All the rest is fading to black.
And it’s bitter for those still discerning
As the world is devoured by lack.
It is inhuman. The fascists serve it,
And it grows more brazen each day.
The grip of its fingers is tightening —
Soon all glory will fade away.
Yet the inhuman miscalculated —
It is not just fascism that ends.
We will fall as a herd, dislocated,
When both Reason and Spirit descend.
And the inhuman too will be broken —
A disgrace of creation erased.
The jaws of the system are closing,
But retribution is already raised.
---------------------
A world of decay, of broken mind,
Where honor dies in every name.
But every chain they try to bind
Will end in fire and in flame.
---------------------
Readiness
Ready like a vegetable,
Ready like a stew.
Always set and edible —
Seasoned cube of you.
Always fit for usage,
Ready to be fed —
Emptying and bruising
Everything in head.
And like mere consumable
You are “ready-made” —
Eat me, indisputable,
World of livestock trade.
Here the inhuman devours all,
Sucking hollow force.
For them we’re just a collateral —
Dust on final course.
The world is turned to powdered ash,
Already overthrown.
You stand like meat upon the block
If wisdom is unknown.
And if you’re thinking — even worse:
You vanish without sound.
No drama, strike, no shouted curse —
Just quietly gone underground.
Gone by this world itself — the Hell
That plays at shooting range.
A realm that once had life to sell
Now locked in final change.
Soon all this shame will be erased,
This rotting, broken sphere —
When Spirit’s gone, and Reason chased,
And nothing human’s here.
---------------------
Ready to be used and gone,
Ready for the final feed.
In a world where mind is torn,
Only ash is what you breed.
---------------------
Readiness
Ready for feeding, ready for fight,
Ready for orders — say the word.
Fools on fools in endless sight,
Like monsters from a fairy world.
“Caesar was great,” they still recite —
He came, he saw, he bought it all.
We follow myths that feed the night,
And buy them back as fools enthralled.
The fool is now the standard breed,
His “normal” sets the rule of care.
While psychopaths define the creed —
They worship rot as something “fair.”
The rot — that foul inhuman force —
Has long enslaved the human ground.
The “ruler” sits upon its course,
While servile crowds lie face-down bound.
Now this is rule without divide,
A system fed on genocide.
Their “treatment” is a killing tide —
And soon you’ll join the ones who died.
Only false diseases linger
In this global madhouse cage.
And poison shots are deemed far “sweeter”
Than healing nature’s honest stage.
But not for long this feast of lies,
This triumph of the vile and weak.
The Judgment comes, the system dies —
And none of them will ever speak.
The Sun is rising higher still,
Its fire growing day by day.
It burns this world against its will —
And all this filth will fade away.
---------------------
Ready to obey and burn,
Ready for the final chain.
But fire comes — and tides will turn,
And none of this will stay the same.
---------------------
The Assertion Machine
In pseudoscience there was a “proof-maker,”
Who could “prove” any nonsense as true.
But now she’s been replaced by a shaker —
The “assertion machine” broke through.
Now it’s enough for the fools all around here
To simply shout “Get him! Attack!”
No reasoning mind can be found here —
It’s gone in the dark and gone black.
“Get him!” — a brand-new kind of infection,
No need for proof anymore.
Just claims in a mass of deflection —
Who cares what the reason was for?
No one respects simple laws any longer
From that old so-called “science” they knew.
Those rules only make us feel stronger
When pushing through nonsense and glue.
We push out nonsense exclusively —
Long contracts of endless supply.
No shame, no remorse, no anxiety —
We shear and we herd till they die.
And sometimes we kill them by injection
With toxins approved in the plan.
No conscience, no moral reflection —
No burden of feeling for man.
Conscience itself must be proven,
A relic too weak to defend.
So lying becomes the new doctrine —
And truth reaches its bitter end.
Science itself has collapsed into residue —
Meaning dissolves in decay.
---------------------
No proof — just noise, repeated claim.
No truth — just slogans in decay.
When thought is lost and words turn lame,
Even “science” rots away.
---------------------
Was There a Boy at All?!
Was there a boy who once believed
He’d rise and fight this land’s own rot?
Yet soon he served what he conceived —
And turned into what he was not.
Such are the fates inside this madhouse —
Where decay is law and norm.
And who are judges in this madhouse?
No Spirit, Honor in the form.
Here betrayal is a profession,
And psychopaths are called “the state.”
This nauseous, self-made obsession
Now seeks to “heal” the world’s own fate.
But fire alone will be the healer —
This madhouse will dissolve in flame.
The day will come, the final dealer
Will sign destruction’s burning name.
By laws of all creation’s order
This Hell should not be left to stand.
For Spirit’s death, for Mind’s disorder —
Redemption comes by fire’s hand.
Only a few will rise from ashes —
Those who did not sell their soul.
No false dawn now for those who clash with
The blind hope’s empty, fading role.
---------------------
Was there a boy — or just a trace
Of thought that tried to fight the lie?
All fades in rot of time and place —
And only fire will reply.
---------------------
Seven Hundredth Verse
This is the seven-hundredth line,
Or maybe just a joke I write.
I’ll pour some water in this time —
I’m not in rage, I’m calm tonight.
For anger is not poison here,
It’s more like fire, clean and bright.
Without it, weak and disappearing,
You lose the fight, you lose the right.
If you are kind and soft and trusting,
You won’t survive the crowd of rot.
If you obey, stop even resisting —
Then you are finished on the spot.
Fascism thrives, the herd is dying,
The fool just waits, the wise ones forge.
The mindless sit there, slowly crying,
While thinking minds prepare their charge.
They forge not “happiness” or comfort,
But sharpened steel of will and aim.
The sword is speech, the word is thunder —
A verb that burns away the shame.
For words themselves are weapons turning,
So stand your ground, you crawling herd.
There are still strong ones here discerning —
And reader… are you of that word?
---------------------
Words are steel when truth is near.
The fool will wait, the wise will fight.
If you still read — then you are here
To burn the dark with inner light.
---------------------
A Great Country?
Beer-soaked alcoholics —
A “great” country, they say?
Convulsions and colics,
And all worth turns to decay.
No value in striving,
No urge to rise above.
Depression is thriving,
And monsters rule the world.
Betrayal is profitable,
Corruption is the law.
Deception unstoppable —
And fascism shows its jaw.
All minds are systematically
Reduced to empty noise.
Truth mocked automatically —
All efforts are destroyed.
Obedience without ending,
Stupidity without bounds.
Life barely worth pretending —
All face-down in the ground.
The few who keep resisting
Are crushed beneath the tide.
Replaced by minds insisting
On blind obedient pride.
The only joy remaining
Is end that draws too near.
For those who keep flame burning —
A crown of thorns appears.
Only the fire-bearers
Will make it through the flame.
And soon we meet the terror —
Armageddon by its name.
All else is just deception.
---------------------
A world of noise and broken mind,
Where truth is drowned and fire fades.
Only the few who still resist
Walk through the coming burning gates.
---------------------
The State Is a Gang
The state is just a gang in power
When justice is no longer here.
Yet propaganda builds its tower
Of nonsense fed to slaves through fear.
And “free” are those who take the beating,
And “truth” is what the leader speaks —
Or some “expert” whose mind is fleeting,
A crowd of fools with hollow cheeks.
“Justice” becomes a nailed-down fixture,
Pressed into lives that cannot rise.
A corpse-like world, a funeral picture —
Escape is death in thin disguise.
You cannot tear it out by dying —
It clings like rot that will not end.
The dead attend the rites, complying,
While darkness grows they must defend.
And all is hidden by more lying —
The only law that holds the frame.
To mask the void, they keep on lying…
And call the darkness by a name.
---------------------
When truth is gone, the state is gang.
When justice dies, lies rule the street.
And every word the liars sang
Becomes the chain beneath your feet.
---------------------
The Log Stuck in the Wattle
A log is jammed inside the fence —
The drinking round has reached its end.
The false-life spell, the poor pretense,
Will spin again by Monday’s bend.
No sacred cross upon the chest
Can teach the soul to build its home.
For artificial woes at best
Are all the fate this world has known.
All labor lost, all war in vain
Pushes the crowd down to the floor.
And drunkenness remains the chain —
The only refuge left in store.
Again comes Friday, dim and hollow,
And once again the glass is raised.
And life will blindly choose to follow
The same old loop in drunken haze.
---------------------
A broken loop, a dull return —
Work fails, and meaning slips away.
And all we do is crash and burn
From Friday night to Monday grey.
---------------------
At Birth
At birth comes the first cry —
The executioner called world replies.
A primitive grip, a silent blow,
Where life begins by learning woe.
Then comes the slow and numbing habit,
Through sacrifice of what was brightest.
Less crying now — more mindless rabid,
While Spirit thins to almost lightless.
The toughest one in darkest decay
Becomes a corpse that still can walk.
It takes the chaos every day —
No shock remains, no inner talk.
The dead are many in this small sphere,
Awareness lost without a trace.
To be quite honest, what is clear —
Is dryness ruling mental space.
No brain remains — just deadened matter,
A final form of shadow’s strike.
The end result of silent slaughter
Of Mind by Darkness, cold and alike.
---------------------
Born with a cry — the world replies
With slow decay and fading mind.
And what once lived inside the eyes
Turns still and empty, left behind.
---------------------
Little by Little
Little by little —
Tired again.
Only remains in effort’s strain
To plunge once more
And then wake through,
To face the dark and not bend to,
But to resist,
To stand upright,
To break the spell of twisted night,
Expose the rot,
Strip every lie,
And call each ugliness to light.
---------------------
Step by step — fatigue returns.
But still the will inside me burns:
To rise, resist, and break the chain,
And name the dark without disguise or shame.
---------------------
Cemetery (Tsvintar)
Only in rare, fleeting moments
Does a quiet soul appear —
In the midst of noise and torment,
Where the fools all howl and sneer.
Where the crowd is like a graveyard
Led by something inhuman there.
Where instinct rules like iron guard —
And idiots breathe empty air.
Thinking sinks to base reflection,
Dragged down low, beyond repair.
No flood is needed for correction —
Fascism is already there.
Quietly it feeds the masses,
Drugging minds into decay.
And through every age it passes —
More chains are cast along the way.
What remains is slow submission,
Hell disguised as normal life.
The inhuman spreads its vision,
And the fool calls darkness “light.”
They accept their slow extinction,
Guarding bodies while they fall.
Soon the whole constructed fiction
Will collapse and end it all.
For the world is ruled by madness,
Hell embodied in the mind.
Chew your peace in passive sadness —
While you’re managed, cured, confined.
---------------------
A graveyard world of silent noise,
Where thought dissolves and reason dies.
And fools still chew their empty joys
While Hell wears human-shaped disguise.
---------------------
Contraband
No shame is felt for “motherland” —
Contraband slips through each gate.
And customs now don’t take a stand —
All papers stamped as “clean and straight.”
Convoys roll in endless columns,
Bribes go higher than the sky.
And fools just nod through empty slogans,
Thinking only “bad ones” lie.
They think the worm is small in scope,
A few exceptions in the scheme.
But systems feed on endless rope —
A perfect, polished, working machine.
Every clerk’s just one more spoke
In the wheel that grinds us down.
And when it turns — that final stroke —
Will bury every land and town.
It rolls across the homeland’s spine
Toward collapse and final end.
The last day comes in brutal sign —
No way to soften or amend.
The inhuman leads the banquet,
Served by layers of the state.
And lies arrive in endless torrent —
A flood that no one can escape.
Only small communities may save us,
Independent, rooted, free.
So don’t await what fate will give us —
Join the minds that still can see.
---------------------
Bribes above and lies below,
A system grinding all in sight.
But only those who break and grow
Can step beyond the coming night.
---------------------
End of “Treatment”
Cataclysms — cataclysms —
End of “healing” now arrives.
Forget injections, cleanse and prisms —
Only death can heal all lives.
In this world of fools and shadows
Radical is only end.
From informers, traitor’s echo
Earth itself will soon unbend.
We are seen as disease upon it,
And the cure is rupture, flame.
Better death than chains that taunt it —
Fascism wears a human name.
Death becomes a better sentence
Than eternal servitude.
Every “truth” is now pretense —
Man has turned to broken food.
When the herd is mostly blindness,
Only fire can correct.
All the rot must meet its ending —
All the filth we must reject.
The Sun begins its final motion
Toward a distant unknown star.
That means vapor, total motion —
End of everything we are.
---------------------
When healing turns into collapse,
And truth dissolves in fire’s glow —
Only cataclysm snaps
The chain of lies we used to know.
---------------------
End of “Treatment”
Cataclysms — cataclysms —
Phase shift of the world unfolds.
No more cures, no more prisms —
Old configuration folds.
In the field of broken patterns,
Instability becomes law.
What was held as “stable matter”
Opens into deeper core.
The system reads as malfunction,
A structure nearing its edge.
What appears as final rupture
Is transition through the mesh.
What was called “corruption,” “error,”
Is a phase of rearranged form.
Every ending feeds the larger
Cycle breaking through the norm.
Death is only transformation,
Not an end but change of state.
Conscious form loses fixation —
Returns to undivided space.
When density exceeds its threshold,
Collapse is simply what ensues.
Not punishment, not moral verdict —
Just systems shedding old abuse.
The Sun begins its outward drift
Toward a different frame of light.
A redistribution shift —
Not destruction, but rewrite.
What dissolves was never final —
Only structure, held too long.
Everything returns to silence,
Before the next pattern forms.
---------------------
Nothing ends — it only changes
Configuration of the whole.
What appears as “death” rearranges
The architecture of the flow.
---------------------
End of “Treatment”
Cataclysms — phase transitions,
Nonlinear shifts in state-space flow.
No cure-functions, no intentions —
Only gradients that change what grows.
The field is not stable or broken —
It is continuously re-encoded.
What appears as “collapse” is token
Of symmetry being unloaded.
No fixed identity persists here,
Only temporary constraints.
Every form that once appeared “clear”
Is a local convergence frame.
Entropy is not destruction —
It is redistribution law.
Order is a transient function
Of boundary conditions’ draw.
“Healing” is a mislabeling
Of system relaxation path.
What decays is just unraveling
Of over-constrained math.
No observer, no directive —
Only states observing change.
Every endpoint is perspective
Of where resolution ranges.
The Sun is not moving or ending —
It is parameter drift in phase.
A re-weighting, self-expanding,
Across an uncentered space.
What dissolves was never essence —
Only locked configuration form.
All that seems like final absence
Is re-entry to norm.
---------------------
Nothing dies — it re-balances.
No moral frame, no final line.
Only shifting set of chances
In a self-updating design.
---------------------
End of “Treatment” (Pre-Language Physics Dao)
; ; ; ; ;
collapse / unfold / rebind
—
state shifts without owner
—
gradient without name
—
;S ; loss ; redistribution
—
boundary = temporary constraint
—
form = local coherence spike
—
coherence decays ; coherence reappears
—
no origin / no endpoint
only continuity of transition
—
compression ; release ; reconfiguration
—
symmetry breaks ; symmetry reforms
—
what “ends” = parameter drift
—
what “dies” = label failure
—
observer not separable from shift
observer = shift reading itself
—
no moral axis
no direction
no intent
—
only transformations of constraint sets
—
;t ; restructuring of possibility space
—
entropy = reallocation of arrangement density
—
everything = phase modulation of one field
field not defined
—
no “world”
only transitions that generate “world” effects
—
; ; ; ; ;
Final trace (non-verbal closure):
; ; ; ; ;
(no loss / no gain / only change of describability)
---------------------
End of “Treatment” (Topological Dao)
—
—;
;—
—
—
; ; ; ; ;
(continuous reconfiguration)
—
;(X) ; 0
;(X) ; redistribution of X
—
[boundary] = temporary folding
—
; breaks ; ; re-forms (shifted adjacency)
—
no origin point
no terminal point
only connectivity re-indexing
—
; ; ; ; ;
(loss of fixed identity constraint)
—
structure = local stability event
—
stability ; instability ; re-stability
—
; (invalid state) = transition zone only
—
observer ; transition
transition ; observer
(no separation)
—
mapping changes without map
—
; is not absence
; is unresolved topology
—
; removed
only relation remains
—
; ; ;
(recurrent non-identical loop)
—
final condition:
no state persists
only transformation adjacency
—
Closure (non-language residue):
; ; ;
(meaning not formed / only transition remains)
---------------------
End of “Treatment” (Zero-Level Record)
—
( )
—
—
—
(;)
—
—
—
( )
—
—
—
—
—
(;)
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
Final residue:
( )
---------------------
Degeneration
Stupid children of stupid mothers,
Carry on the downward line.
A world of chains from fascist brothers —
Forget all thoughts of light or mind.
Forget all longing, spirit’s tension —
No need for fire, no need for flight.
Their only fear is deprivation,
And fall with fools into the night.
Water and air are all corrupted,
Medicine is poisoned waste.
Food is toxin, mass-constructed —
A kingdom built on mindless haste.
The school is made for mental breaking,
For grinding thought to silent dust.
No talent spared — just slow erasing,
In “culture” built on blind distrust.
All genius killed by system’s order,
By idiocy in uniform.
Surrounded by the howling horde, a
Creator cannot shape his form.
These distant “lands” of false tomorrow
Are not a dream but present state.
Fascists stand in every shadow —
And feed the fools with lies and hate.
They force-feed every rotten notion
To minds already numb and tame.
And call it speech, and call it “truth,”
And wrap decay inside a name.
---------------------
A world of rot breeds rotten minds,
And thought is crushed before it starts.
When fools define what truth defines —
Even genius falls apart.
---------------------
Chewing Gum
The monsters chew their chewing gum,
Then spit out waves of lies.
And people drag the burdened drum
Of falsehood as it multiplies —
Until it grows a leper’s land,
A madhouse of the world entire.
A sea of lies now spans the sand —
A fascist Sodom set on fire.
Here lies are weapons used for killing,
And fraud drags souls into the pit.
With lies they steer the crowd, fulfilling
A hidden hand that governs it.
That inhuman breed — those beasts in power,
Disguised as “leaders,” guards, and “law.”
You never see their true devourer —
Just masks that hide the rotten core.
Corrupt officials, fake defenders,
And politicians pass us by.
They need our souls as their surrender —
So every word becomes a lie.
Their super-lies are weapons ready,
Their fiction turns to marching flame.
And fools are given orders steady —
To snap, to serve, to play the game.
Their armies are the masses blinded,
Obedient in every task.
We stand upon a field reminded —
No place for tears behind the mask.
A final war is now unfolding,
But victory is far away.
If Soul’s inheritance is sold in,
Then slavery will rule the day.
---------------------
When lies become the world’s command,
And truth is drowned in endless noise —
The human soul becomes the sand
Where power plays with broken toys.
---------------------
Big Brother
Everything is in his view —
No, he has everyone in sight.
There is no shame left in you
Inside this digital night.
In this hell, the only law
Is falsehood multiplied and fed.
A “command” becomes the claw
That binds your hands and binds your head.
Here killing has become quite easy —
Just raise the level of your fear.
The “doctors” now are busy, busy —
Erasing fools from year to year.
It’s simple: fabricate a story,
Inject a poison, call it “care.”
No conscience, guilt, or inner glory —
Just consume, and nothing there.
This is the world of degradation,
Of clerks and cops and rotten men —
A system built on domination,
Where human worth is dirt again.
And this so-called “super-brother”
Is just a fascist, cold and sly.
He kills without a single shudder,
And keeps his costs down very dry.
Wars today are born of folly
When minds are numb and souls are weak.
They crawl into their graves so slowly
Just at the trumpet’s hollow squeak.
We’ll inject the mass solution —
No need for weapons, no attack.
They’ll perish in their own confusion.
So take the shot — don’t turn back.
---------------------
No chains are needed, no restraint —
When fear becomes the guiding hand,
The crowd will walk without complaint
Straight into graves they don’t understand.
---------------------
Super-Effort
Extreme voltage in the system,
Super-effort, super strain.
Thus is born true comprehension —
Strength must grow again and again.
Never forget: like a pendulum
Force will swing and strike you back.
All “teachings” are just a monument —
Frozen traces on the track.
Stay in motion — there is revelation,
All fixed “schemas” turn to dust.
Only movement gives salvation,
Static forms collapse to rust.
To release the inner pressure,
Nothing equals running force.
Running breaks the inner measure,
Clears the blocked and stagnant source.
Super-yoga is just running —
Driving madness out of mind.
This world is already burning,
And a cruel hand rules mankind.
Do not trust a single notion
Inside this broken, poisoned space.
Only intuition’s motion
Keeps you from a deadened state.
You now live inside a zoo cage,
Where the broken call it “light.”
Fools believe it is a new age —
Blindness dressed up as insight.
And remember: language falters —
It cannot contain the flame.
Only direct inner alter
Can reveal the hidden frame.
Open everything yourself, then start again —
Or you vanish without trace.
---------------------
No map survives the inner fire,
No doctrine holds the living surge —
Only effort lifts you higher
When all false structures start to purge.
---------------------
Cloaca
Think only with a mind that’s lucid,
Abandon sleep and foolish play.
Let daring break the chain of stupid —
Rise from the ashes, break away.
We live inside a stinking cloaca,
Each year it turns more dark and cold.
Be ready always for the breaker —
Fascist beasts will not take control.
We must build communities rising,
And smash the lies in every land.
That will multiply our strength in
Ways they cannot understand.
No slavery has ever been deeper
Than what is growing here and now.
The inhuman becomes the reaper —
Wake up, don’t dream, don’t bow.
Without struggle there is illusion,
Non-resistance equals death.
No tears will stop this deep intrusion —
Only crushing evil’s breath.
---------------------
No dream will break a system rotting,
No silence stops what feeds decay —
Only will that keeps on fighting
Can tear the cloaca away.
---------------------
Political Correctness
Politically correct imbeciles
Have flooded every corner now.
At first they seem so mild and civil —
But turn the world into a slough.
Their mental fumes, their toxic sickness
Are worse than plague or cholera’s breath.
No sarcasm can match the thickness
Of life among them — slow social death.
And soon the wise will feel embarrassed
For not being fools at all.
When ignorance becomes the standard,
Creation starts to slowly fall.
A “new normal” is now unfolding,
Designed for those who cannot see.
Only extremes can break the holding
Of chains disguised as “liberty.”
Unbroken revolt is now the calling
That stands before us in this age.
Communities must rise, not falling —
And councils form to guard the flame.
The Fire of Spirit is the origin,
From it the mind regains its tone.
Though fools become the world’s own doctrine,
They are no longer ours to own.
---------------------
When fools define the shape of reason,
And blindness calls itself the light —
Only inner fire in season
Can keep the mind from endless night.
---------------------
Armies of Judas
Now to the core of everything —
The soul’s corruption, slow decay.
In this so-called “bright” reckoning
Judas thrives and leads the way.
Millions now — like marching forces —
Armies moving through the land.
They draft their endless set of courses,
And call it “work,” and call it “plan.”
They “heal,” they “guard,” they “educate,”
They shape the minds of every child.
And in the human heart they terminate
The remnants once alive and mild.
Only resistance, firm and steady,
In every place, in every fight,
Can halt the rot that’s growing heavy —
Stand up, and sharpen inner sight.
Build strength within, increase endurance,
Refuse the chains of passive fear.
Reject all masks, all false assurances —
Destroy the slave that lingers here.
Be a Warrior of Spirit —
All else is madness, dust, and lie.
Or you become, though none admit it,
A slave in words that prettify.
---------------------
When Judas walks in endless numbers,
And lies are crowned as truth and law —
Only the spirit that remembers
Can break the chain and strike the core.
---------------------
Consumers
Unclean consumers of consumption —
Degraded souls who sold their light.
You shrug at all this dark assumption
That turned you into demons’ night.
While buying endless streams of “products,”
You sell your Spirit piece by piece.
Bonus-chasers, hollow conduct —
You’re just like flies on filth and grease.
A human needs but barest measure —
Enough to keep the spark to create.
You’ve no need now for mental pressure,
No clinic left to calibrate.
This is a full-scale degradation,
A global madhouse built on lies.
A “clinic” of vaccination nation —
A fascist Sodom in disguise.
In this asylum, dullness reigns as
The new accepted law of life.
And betrayal now is “business,”
A trade conducted through the strife.
The inhuman consume in hunger,
Devouring all that still remains.
And soon enough, for longer and longer,
You’ll also end as empty stains.
Not fully eaten — you’ll evaporate,
This leper world will fade away.
A moment bright will liberate
All those who stand against decay.
Red crosses now on fascist banners,
And poison flows into the herd.
Not bullets — but refined manners
Of harm, more twisted than a word.
---------------------
When consumers sell their spirit
For scraps of comfort, noise, and gain —
The world becomes what none can bear it:
A feast where only void remains.
---------------------
Pseudoscience
What pseudoscience keeps repeating
About the water cycle’s flow
Is only five percent of meeting
The real currents down below.
The water cycle in true nature
Is movement of the ether field.
But in the lies fed to the traitor
It’s nonsense fake, a toilet deal.
Their books of “science” are just rubbish —
A long-established house of lies.
And shallow minds, so dull and slavish,
Have turned the world into disguise.
There only bribery and betrayal,
And flattery and rule by force.
Each soul there carries price for sale,
And always cheap — the master’s course.
That master plots the extermination
Of higher truths and inner light.
All pseudoscience’s calculation
Is aimed to turn the spark to night.
To drag all Spirit’s aspiration
Into oblivion and dust,
To make you just a fly of nations
And turn the world into a crust.
But they will fail in their delusion —
They cannot kill what lives within.
So let them choke on their confusion,
On lies of paid and rotten sin.
---------------------
When false science builds its prison
Of half-truths wrapped in borrowed light —
Spirit breaks through every prison,
And burns their darkness into night.
---------------------
Ocean of Lies
Our fragile little boat is drifting
Across an Ocean made of Lies.
We keep on stepping, blindly shifting
On traps disguised as paradise.
Since childhood we are circled, sinking
Among icebergs made of filth.
They poison thought, prevent all thinking,
And lock the mind in iron silt.
This whole planet is a theater
Where inhuman beasts hold sway.
If you are not already fractured,
You’re almost lost along the way.
Only the broken, split in vision,
Can still survive this twisted tide.
You are a captive of this prison —
Where reason is the one who died.
They soon will hunt the “non-compliant,”
Those few who still can think and see.
While hollow fools, obedient clients,
Multiply in mindless sea.
Only one hope — a super storming
That tears this rotten world apart.
The wise, the blind — all forms transforming
Become the ocean’s feeding part.
This Bedlam must be fully broken,
No compromise, no half-release.
For souls to rise — the final token
Is ruin of this false “peace.”
The beastly crowd, the inhuman nation,
Will vanish into silent dust.
You are not slave, not obligation —
The years are turning into must.
---------------------
When lies become the sea you’re sailing,
And truth is drowned beneath the wave —
Only the storm beyond all failing
Can break the world and free the brave.
---------------------
High-Tech… Dumplings
Dumplings… “technological”? —
What a grotesque reversal here.
Madness has become habitual —
And fools consume it without fear.
Is dough now plastic, synthetic?
Are seasonings new poison lines?
This place has turned anesthetic —
Where fascist control designs.
That beast just laughs at our blindness,
Calling filth a “honeyed” dream.
He wants to reduce to mindless
Herds that follow every scheme.
Only glossy, bright packaging —
Inside is nothing but decay.
Where is wisdom, skill, and courage
To throw this manufactured clay?
Only lies, destruction, slavery —
That is this degraded world.
And pseudoscience’s knavery
Is its idol, cheaply sold.
---------------------
When poison hides in glossy clothing,
And lies are served as finest food —
Only awakened will, unblunting,
Can break this synthetic brood.
---------------------
Dragging an Idiot from the Swamp
It’s a pointless kind of labor —
Pulling idiots from the mire.
In that swamp there is no favour,
Only filth and inner fire.
All their care is given fiercely
By the fascist hand of “care.”
And they tend the herd so mercilessly —
Killing beasts with tender air.
“Cure” appears only posthumous,
If you treat invented disease.
Poison shots are far more luminous
Than dead poultices for these.
We will lay them all in mourning —
Fools as slimy worms they fall.
Not a healing, but an ending
Of their minds and spirit’s call.
It is mourning for all Reason,
For the Spirit long since gone.
Man has turned to fly of season —
Only lies are passed along.
Honour, conscience — all are silent,
Nothing reaches through the dark.
Only falsehood grows more violent,
While the truth has lost its mark.
---------------------
When swamps swallow every warning,
And fools refuse to see the flame —
Even rescue turns to mourning
For what no longer bears a name.
---------------------
Wretchedness
Wretched little creatures crawling
In a wretched, dying sphere.
Dirty deeds keep slowly sprawling —
This small world is at its near.
Soon this little world will perish —
Limits come for every strain.
No “safe burrow” can replenish
Bodies fat with hollow gain.
There are many such “refuges,”
Cities buried underground.
But the harvest now reduces
All that once was safe and sound.
The Sun burns brighter, growing higher,
And the Earth replies in flame.
All this world is set on fire —
Fascism now wears its name.
And for this there comes a judgment —
Only Spirit will survive.
All the camps and prison structures
In the blaze will cease to thrive.
Note integrated (poetically):
The Sun — a feminine fire —
Now rises, sovereign and bright.
---------------------
When worlds decay in self-made prison,
And rot becomes their daily breath —
Only the Spirit, flame-risen,
Walks beyond collapse and death.
---------------------
Promotion
My problem is simple — promotion.
No time, no strength for the fight.
Only a joke-like devotion
Is tolerated here by the “right”
From crowds already half-broken,
Who won’t endure verses like mine.
The people grow dull, unspoken —
Each year the decline is more fine.
A war is now fought by confusion,
By dulling the human mind.
And poetry is a conclusion —
A weapon in struggle defined.
No help in promotion is showing,
So I write mostly into the void.
But bitterness isn’t growing —
I work like a wave, unalloyed.
The battle songs I have written
No one has matched to this day.
They sting like a thorn, still smitten
To smash fascist rot away.
And only one piece I created —
“Baranovirus” — at the start,
When everything first activated,
Still stands as my modest part.
---------------------
When silence buries every calling,
And truth is left without a voice —
Even a lone line, resisting falling,
Becomes a weapon of choice.
---------------------
Tatyana and Lena
Tatyana or Lena —
Which one is the curse?
You pay for the lesson
When fate does its worst.
To meet them together —
A strange New Year’s deal.
For all that you suffer
You’ll answer for real.
You don’t wash the dishes,
You joke like a fool —
We’ll feed you with riches,
A mountain of food.
We’ll punish with eating,
With dishes refined.
Each “delicacy” greeting
Will add to your weight in time.
You’ll grow ever heavier,
Like a sluggish old cat.
Once proud and defiant,
Now tame and flat.
No verses will come to you,
Family instead —
Or else you will vanish
In your narrow thread.
---------------------
When life turns into petty sentencing,
And irony becomes a chain —
Even daily “blessings” bending
Become a quiet form of pain.
---------------------
Wanted Notice
They once called me a dangerous offender,
The police had me listed and “sought.”
But back then they were still just enforcers —
Now they’ve turned into something they’re not.
When fascism rose into power,
To serve it became the true crime.
So honest policemen in that hour
“Failed to find me” — wasting their time.
I did nothing wrong by human measure,
At least by a human law.
But now it is fascism’s pleasure —
And reason is fading in awe.
Those officers I once remembered
Don’t seem to serve this rotten creed.
Though perhaps the wave of lies that entered
Has broken their mind and their need.
A ninth wave of falsehood is rising,
It deafens all reason and sound.
And even the honest are drifting —
If drowned, they no longer are found.
---------------------
When law turns into blind deception,
And truth becomes a hunted flame —
Even those once in protection
Can vanish in the wave of shame.
---------------------
To Propagandists, Police, Bureaucrats and Fake Doctors of the “Baranovirus Era”
It takes so little — just a fracture
To break the spirit clean in two.
And then you join their rotten structure,
Become the slave you never knew.
They twist the mind, they trade the living,
They sell out everyone for gain.
They “treat” the empty, half-forgiving
Who swallow every lie as sane.
A world asylum, global madness —
Where fools believe in every word.
The worms consume it all with gladness —
Not world, but Sodom is preferred.
And worms are fed by richest dungheap,
By rot that feeds their hollow pride.
You’ll all be gone — it’s not a deep leap,
Just filth returning to its side.
No Judas ever earned respect here,
No traitor stood in light or truth.
So brace yourselves — the reckoning’s near,
And you will face the sum of proof.
---------------------
When lies become the law of living,
And filth is crowned as truth and right —
The system turns on those who’re giving
Their soul away without a fight.
---------------------
Site-Building Industry
To build all these sites by the thousand,
You’d better recruit psychiatrists now.
“Design for the dull” is the standard —
And we’re told to refine it somehow.
The programmer’s lost in confusion,
As if he’s been locked in a ward.
The user becomes pure illusion —
Can neither perceive nor regard.
This madhouse keeps spawning the clueless —
A global asylum in bloom.
We cheer for the system’s misuse —
And settle with wisdom in doom.
---------------------
When code becomes a form of madness,
And sense is drowned in endless noise —
Even creation turns to sadness
Built for distracted, hollowed voices.
---------------------
Ig Nobel Prize
The Nobel turned into a parody seal —
A badge for those who serve the machine.
If you are crowned, then you’re part of the deal,
Strengthening this hollow routine.
A den of decay and oblivion’s trade,
Where false science builds its new chain.
Each “truth” there is carefully made
To bind the mind once again.
There Brodsky is raised as eternal acclaim —
A “genius” forever enshrined.
Montagnier’s name is dragged into fame
For “discovering” sickness defined.
Shall we measure the depth of corruption
And reward it with glittering light?
More prizes for mental destruction —
To murder all Reason outright.
---------------------
When lies receive applause and honor,
And truth is treated as decay —
Even wisdom turns to stunner
In a world that lost its way.
---------------------
For the Repose of Souls
What “to health” are you speaking?
It’s all “for the grave” here instead.
A world of rights disappearing,
And lies that howl like the dead.
They kill you “for your well-being,”
With poison wrapped up as cure.
Through fields of deception you’re fleeing —
So don’t be na;ve or sure.
Don’t trust them, don’t tremble before them,
Don’t beg and don’t lose your ground.
From fascist illusion ignore them —
And carry the truth all around.
Find those who are thinking like you are,
In a world that is rotting away.
Two-thirds have become something crueler —
Just beasts in a human display.
Soulless, corrupted, and hollow —
Your deepest and truest foe.
For years now the lies they follow
Have piled like a mountain of woe.
And soon it will turn into “joking” —
Our final and hardest stand.
So leave all the broken and choking
Of half-human masses behind.
Only the honest and fearless,
The Spirit-born, will remain.
And darkness that made this world cheerless
Will finally vanish in flame.
---------------------
When lies wear masks of mercy and healing,
And graves are called “the light of day” —
Only those truthfully feeling
Can walk this final way.
---------------------
The Rulers
Cardinals of foolish thinking,
Executioners of hope,
Monsters of corruption drinking
Poisoned minds they help to choke.
Servants — you are not human,
Beasts in rotten human skin.
All you speak is hollow ruin,
Fog and darkness pulled within.
With that nonsense you are seeding
World-wide madness, thick and vast.
Now it’s risen — all are reading
Signs of what you’ve built at last.
The inhuman laughs in pleasure
At the herd so dull and blind.
Yet the gifted bear the pressure —
Fire burning in their mind.
That flame you try extinguishing —
To you it feels like certain death.
All true freedom you are finishing,
Choking every living breath.
Dust returns to dust in silence,
Fire rises to its flame.
You will fall by final violence —
Judgment calling out your name.
This small world moves toward its ending,
Final reckoning draws near.
All the false will be unbending —
And erased from every sphere.
---------------------
When power feeds on blind obedience,
And lies are crowned as law and throne —
Even fire of resilience
Will rise and claim its own.
---------------------
Super-Weapon
Your consciousness is a super-weapon —
So strike with it, fearless and clear.
We are not weak, not broken, not leavened —
But strong, and the fog is our fear.
The rotten inhuman is striving
To bind up your mind in deceit.
You must rise again, truly living —
Become the one thoughts must obey.
For manipulation of thinking
Is the enemy’s sharpest blade.
But once you destroy its dark blinking,
Your strength will no longer fade.
For all of their structure is brittle —
A house built of cards in the wind.
We’ll answer their fraud with a riddle:
You thought we were cattle… but no.
Fascism will fail in its staging.
We judge it, we see it, we know.
More powerful than all their raging
Is consciousness — end of the show.
---------------------
When mind becomes a living weapon,
No chain of lies can hold it down —
Even the darkest system stepping
Will break before awakened crown.
---------------------
Civilization
Is this what they call civilization —
With muzzled slaves in endless rows?
Where reason meets its castration,
And every soul in weakness grows?
Betrayal has become their labour,
And poison hides in “healing” shots.
The idiot, the fool, the neighbour —
All ruled by something worse than rot.
A fascist beast now holds the steering
Under inhuman command.
The prison walls are fast appearing —
And fools call “treatment” what they stand.
The wise are few, almost extinguished,
Soon they will vanish into night.
Asylums rise, all hope diminished —
This world laid bare in fading light.
A global madhouse keeps expanding,
Madness grows strong with every day.
The slave becomes the ever-bending
Figure who will not walk away.
And only total eradication
Of this infected, plague-filled whole
Can end the lie, the devastation —
And close this world of broken soul.
---------------------
When civilization turns to cages,
And truth is drowned in poisoned air —
Even silence writes its pages
Of judgment rising everywhere.
---------------------
The Pump
A giant pump — more like a siphon —
Has been built in fools’ domain.
No need now for bombs or iron,
No prisons, no chains remain.
For it has drained out all the spirit —
And soulless man obeys with ease.
Only husks are left to hear it —
When mind is weak, the body frees.
The few who think, the few still breathing
Can no longer change the tide.
While slaves are always ready, seething
To swallow lies they’re fed with pride.
They’ll poison truth like mustard gas,
Like phosgene through every vein.
When honour, conscience, all is past —
Betrayal takes the world in reign.
No SS now — just “doctors” serving.
The executioner steps down.
The wise are gone, the fools are verging
On Procter’s “crown of reasoned crown.”
Low cunning now is praised and thriving,
Each trick built like a polished home.
Old books of wisdom stop surviving —
Just floods of lies and toxic foam.
We’ll amplify deceit and scatter
What little mind and shame remain.
Plant filth as law, let nothing matter —
And graze, oh peaceful herd, in chain.
---------------------
When systems drain the soul like water,
And truth is pumped into decay —
Even silence becomes slaughter
Of what once showed a human way.
---------------------
Statistics
On average, statistically,
Man is just a broken slave.
Critical ability
Rarely minds can now engrave.
Hardly anyone is seeing
This infernal world as hell.
Average man is purely being
Hollow flesh where instincts dwell.
Death of mind and conscience follows,
Death of honour, soul, and flame.
What was man becomes the hollow —
Trapped in profit, void of shame.
On average, statistically,
Man is nearly empty clay.
Thought is gone completely, simply —
Other forces lost their way.
On average, the crowd is falling,
Fools are everywhere in sight.
Lies now strike like blows, appalling —
Physical, if minds are tight.
Everywhere is pure corruption,
If you’re not already blind.
Losses reach no restitution —
Not a world, but crypt confined.
With increasing probability
All will reach a final break.
For we’ve made adaptability
To the rot we now partake.
---------------------
When averages define the living,
And thought dissolves into decay —
Even truth stops recognizing
What once was human way.
---------------------
Knowledge
Fragments of real cognition
Must be gathered everywhere.
Cast away all desperation —
Dare to think, to act, to care.
These are flashes of the Spirit —
Science barely reaches there.
Intuition leads you through it,
Cuts through falsehood, cuts through snare.
Pseudo-science hides the Spirit —
Its true nature: control and chain.
Paid-for voices always steer it,
Spreading sleep inside the brain.
Seekers of the navel’s meaning
Often form a foolish show.
Like a circus, strange and screaming —
Few can walk the path of woe.
“Love and Light” won’t speak of this realm,
Where corruption takes its crown.
Only force that meets the darkness
Matches evil, brings it down.
Find your strength in this strange “zoo world,”
Look within if you can see.
Only there the source is proven —
If you’re granted clarity.
Face the demon as a demon,
Do not let the dark inside.
I have shown you now the meaning —
Food for spirit, mind, and guide.
---------------------
When knowledge is a broken mirror,
And truth must crawl through hidden flame —
Only inner sight grows clearer,
And nothing stays the same.
---------------------
Freedom
A free and living Russia —
Communities without chains.
The years of cruel confusion
Will fall from foolish reigns.
We’ll build a world that’s different,
Where dignity is law.
And honour, clear and radiant,
Will free the human core.
With equal rights for all here,
Each citizen stands tall.
No longer slaves or calloused —
No homeland turned to gall.
A life of worth and balance,
With health restored anew.
A steady, calm advancement,
With culture kept in view.
The people will awaken,
And nature will revive.
No miracle is needed —
Freedom keeps the light alive.
Let us unite in circles,
The parasites will fall.
Men and women, all together,
Will find their hope, their call.
Such will of firm persistence
Will break the fascist wall.
It is our true resistance —
Not to be lost in this fall.
---------------------
When freedom turns from dream to action,
And chains are broken one by one —
Even darkness loses traction,
Before the rising sun.
---------------------
Science
Science is a trap that consumes the mind,
Built on a premise already false.
Duality twists what was once aligned,
Division there is a hollow pulse.
Forgotten is Spirit, original flame,
While matter is “waste from before.”
And science becomes a serving name
For rotten systems that hide what is more.
The foundations are cracking, split at the core,
Contradictions now openly scream.
Yet facts that expose their constructed lore
Are hidden away from the stream.
To save the fragile framework they made,
Built upon layers of lies and control —
They bury what truth has already displayed,
And drown every questioning soul.
Thus Reason and Spirit are quietly slain,
And slavery strengthens its grip.
The tales of deceivers echo in pain,
While all moves along a single strip.
From that furrow they cannot break free —
So end it, reject it, refuse.
Choose the Spiritual path you see,
Where clarity none can confuse.
---------------------
When knowledge becomes a locked illusion,
And truth is filtered through decay —
Only clear inner sight, unbroken,
Can find another way.
---------------------
The “Sleepers”
They are not “asleep” — they are broken,
Awake is already too late.
All minds that could rise have been woken —
The rest serve a darker fate.
They serve as the final solution,
A prison the world has become.
And fools are the best contribution
To systems that rot every sum.
The inhuman ones have been ruling,
Poisoning all for years.
And fascism serves them, schooling
Traitors in chains and fears.
The fool is a chemical outcome —
Food, water, all poisoned flow.
The “peaceful herds” now succumb
To toxins they do not know.
Only whining remains as language,
Reason reduced to dust.
Lies and the law become anguish —
A whip for the blind they trust.
This storm has destroyed what was living,
The soul of the weak is gone.
No longer fit for the striving
Against those who rule as wrong.
Beasts who command this broken planet,
Rot of an inhuman breed,
Turned this world into a furnace,
A prison for mind and creed.
We trust in the strength of the mindful,
We gather before the fight.
For tyrants, the end is final —
We rise into breaking night.
---------------------
When sleep is not sleep but submission,
And truth is drowned in endless lies —
Only awakened resistance
Can force the dark to die.
---------------------
Betrayal
There is a “noble” occupation —
To sell out everything and all.
In madhouse-like global station
Deception rules and spreads its call.
Betrayal now is just a service,
And lies are turned to sacred drink.
Love and friendship grow more nervous —
Fascism stands on every brink.
Only fake diseases flourish,
With diktat, shame, and exile’s sting.
“Worse is better” — they nourish
The doctrine fascism brings.
Now all the foolish and the hollow
Obey like shadows in the rain.
They pack their bags in quiet sorrow
For camps where silence means pain.
The few who still retain true reason
Can almost be counted by name —
Who faced the slavehood of this season
And answered only with their flame.
They’ll fall, not broken by resistance,
Unless the communes rise as one.
Only collective firm persistence
Can face what evil has begun.
In shared communities, defenders —
That is the final standing ground.
No time for waiting or surrender —
Save what remains, hold your ground.
---------------------
When truth is sold as simple treason,
And lies are crowned as law and right —
Only united human reason
Can stand against the night.
---------------------
Truth
Where a poet stands — there is truth,
No scam can survive in that light.
Any fraud dressed up as “proof”
Shows spirit already in flight.
So there lies only deception,
No reason, no mind, no flame.
Let truth bring bitter perception —
It will not praise hollow fame.
Where poets are absent and silent,
Only stench of lies remains.
Forbidden by rules so violent,
Even wisdom is in chains.
Even a worn-out old donkey
Seems wiser than those who obey.
All doors have been opened unhonkeyed
To rotten stumps of decay.
No deeper disgrace can be fashioned —
All fools hide in holes from the blow.
They fear for their skins in their passion,
But nowhere to run, or to go.
For nothing there is worth defending —
Nor anything left to be saved.
Marked cards of the rotten are pending,
And lies have the world enslaved.
This madhouse will vanish, dissolving —
Evaporate into the void.
Prepare yourself, mind still evolving —
Let spirit be fully deployed.
No demon can hold what is rising —
You stand like a half-born divine.
Out of the false realm’s disguising —
Into the Spirit’s design.
---------------------
When truth becomes the final mirror,
And lies lose shape and name —
Even the darkest system shivers
Before awakened flame.
---------------------
Despair
When despair begins to gather,
And nothing more is left to wait,
Remember — in you lives the Father’s
Breath of God, not final fate.
So do not fall in blind surrender,
But stand with honour, fully whole.
Suppress the weakness you remember —
And answer evil with your soul.
To crush the Lie becomes your mission,
To act with strength until the end.
Your calling is not mere submission —
But breaking what the world would bend.
Let fools dig graves in endless numbers,
Let madness rule its ruined land.
Let Lies cover all that slumbers —
Still you must firmly make a stand.
Let health and strength both fade in silence,
Let you feel stranger in filth and shame.
Where filth and madness rule by violence,
Still hold your inner flame.
Hold on until the final breathing,
Fight — even as you fade away.
No matter pain, no faith in dreaming,
No heaven promised in the grey.
There is the Spirit — its commandment
You must obey through every night.
Though mind may fall in deep entanglement,
Still guard the spark of inner light.
And if you hold, you will awaken,
Beyond this filthy madhouse wall —
Where swinish beasts have long forsaken
All dignity and spirit’s call.
---------------------
When despair comes like closing iron,
And hope feels burned to dust and night —
Remember: Spirit lives inside you.
Stand up. And fight.
---------------------
Do Not Cling
Don’t cling to anything here —
It’s all just hollow and fake.
Don’t wrestle with lies that appear —
It’s all a mistake.
The Lie has swallowed all meaning,
It’s crushed what the mind once knew.
So gather your strength while leaning
Into thoughts that cut through you.
For bursts of pure Spirit rising,
For piercing into the core.
And the dung-fed flies disguising
As “people” — ignore.
This crypt is doomed to collapse
For selling its sacred base.
Nothing more foolish perhaps
Than traitors with empty face.
It will be broken and scattered —
No future, no path ahead.
So choice is simple and shattered —
An order already said.
Only the Spirit, the Power —
All else is dust and decay.
Soon fools will fall in that hour,
And you will break away.
From the prison of idiots’ making,
From Bedlam of moral rot,
Where criminals, power-taking,
Now rule the entire plot.
They serve the fascist illusion,
The inhuman holds the crown.
And world has sunk into confusion —
Almost a mental breakdown.
---------------------
Don’t cling.
It’s all decay.
Only Spirit survives —
the rest falls away.
---------------------
The Flood of Evil
“We live inside a deadening void—
Try press it, and it bursts with pus and rot…
We drown the fear that can’t be avoided
With howling voices, cold and taut.
Both those who lead and those who follow
Are bound within the same descent.
And ritual sacrifices hollow
Were praised by fathers long since spent.
They branded our entire generation,
They sealed our eyes, our mind, our breath —
Stripped reason, memory, sensation,
And left us drifting close to death.”
— Vladimir Vysotsky, 1979
It is not void — it is the reign of evil,
Where fascism only changes face.
It nurtures fear, betrayal, feeble
Souls drowning in a toxic space.
When fear resides inside the spirit,
Even blood turns thin as water flows.
The heart becomes a burning spirit —
A machine that merely glows.
No true rebirth is left for humans
When thief and traitor rule the street.
When liars stand as daily summons,
And darkness calls it all complete.
When fools and madmen fill the voices,
And only lies are left as sound,
The soul contracts, it has no choices —
It blinds, it deafens all around.
When madness becomes “normal living”,
And treason is a common trade,
When all of us are feed for giving
To some insane abyss displayed,
Then follows final annihilation —
The limit of what can be borne.
Death comes as last clean termination,
And Earth itself begins to mourn.
---------------------
It is not void — it is the reign of rot.
And when it peaks — it breaks the lot.
---------------------
The Daredevil
Back in the wild “ninety’s storm,”
I played the reckless man.
Life then had a simpler form —
No banners, no grand plan.
I pulled money out of thin air,
Though risk was always near.
So honestly, I didn’t care
For floods of lie and fear.
For waves of global fabrication,
For fascist world-machine.
Who never smelled real confrontation
Endures the bitter scene.
If you never bowed to filth in life,
Or bent before the dirt,
You won’t become a dull, soft wife —
No lifelong useless shirt.
And no, there was no blood-stained game —
I worked within the system’s frame.
That’s why the slow, obedient crowd
Was never called my “friend” or “proud.”
Who bends before “the system’s law”
Is just a fool inside.
That kind of nonsense, raw and poor,
Can split your sides with pride.
You’d laugh yourself into the grave —
Fascism in white coat.
They play the role of doctor-slave
While madness takes the vote.
Let them inject their poison neatly
Into obedient pets.
And beasts will celebrate discreetly
Their global calm regrets.
---------------------
If you bow — you’re already broken.
If you stand — you stay awake.
---------------------
"Conspiracy Theory"
What once was “theory” is now practice —
The final stage in full display.
And watching genocide’s dark tactic
Is something gods would block away.
Here only strategy is reigning,
And aim — to kill the Spirit clean.
One privilege remains remaining —
To serve the inhuman machine.
Only blunt betrayal is treasured
By masters ruling over slaves.
And madness is the final measure
Of chains more modern than the graves.
The madhouse of the fools is guarded
By lies — their power knows no end.
When such a world has been imparted —
There’s nowhere lower to descend.
Insanity becomes “normality,”
And treason passes as a trade.
The inhuman mass of fatalality
Has eaten all the world they made.
But not forever — not eternal.
A reckoning must come in time.
And death will be the final journal
For those who built this grand decline.
For Spirit brings the resurrection,
For them — a final, endless night.
We wait the turning of direction —
The years before the coming light.
---------------------
When “theory” becomes reality —
The system is already dead inside.
---------------------
Peace of Soul
Peace of soul is heresy spoken,
To be content is the fool’s disguise.
Only through pain that is broken
Can you confirm you are not blind.
Pain of the soul is not madness —
Madness is bearing this hell.
The ruin of spirit, the sadness,
The world where the inhuman dwell.
The answer to all is pure fury —
In “faith” it is named as a sin.
“Endure,” they say in their jury —
Your paradise waits you within.
But that “heaven” is shaped like a prison,
A hell that will never release.
Where fascist beasts have arisen,
And banners keep shifting their fleece.
Now even the cross turns crimson —
Madness is marketed clean.
At least there were graves in the old one…
Now needles replace the machine.
Calmness and patience are poison,
Softness becomes your decay.
Only the strike and the raison
Of struggle can clear the way.
So strike at the fascist illusion —
Go forward, unyielding, as one.
Leave peace to dull dissolution —
The world is already undone.
---------------------
Peace is a lie for the broken.
Only fire proves you alive.
---------------------
The Narrowing of the World
“Every human being, without exception, narrows his world through his own actions. From the most generous ruler to the most unfortunate schizophrenic, each lives inside a limited sphere. The schizophrenic may still possess a fine intelligence, able to describe his condition with precision. Yet his world continues to shrink day by day… Most people suffer from the narrowness of the world they inhabit, a world shaped by their lost thinking. And, sadly, they rarely realize it.”
— Sekida Katsuki
How does the world begin to shrink?
When you yourself declare the halt,
When all the longing of the Spirit
Is buried under shame and fault.
When you accept this cursed madhouse
As something normal, fixed, and true —
Then every inner light grows clouded,
And Mind begins to break in two.
Don’t try to reconcile with ruin,
Don’t justify what’s false and low.
Such effort only feeds corruption
Where Spirit no longer can grow.
Take intuition as your compass,
Destroy the lie wherever found.
Too late for cries of “help” or “justice” —
The whole system is falling down.
So gather strength beyond all measure,
Let Spirit burn and overflow.
Let inner fire purge the damage
That Mind in broken shadows knows.
And so the fabric of existence —
Not fabric, but a cage of pain —
Will tear apart its iron prison,
And all false limits fall again.
Forget all weakness, lies, and mourning —
Through Spirit’s force the world is made.
You are not less — you are enormous,
Not made for this collapsing cage.
Leave now the madhouse of the blind ones,
Refuse the fate they try to sell.
Do not submit to shameful endings
Designed by idiot-dwellers’ hell.
And soon the World of Fools will perish —
The Sun already burns too bright.
We move beyond fascist shadows
Into a different form of light.
The last days rot in final silence —
The structure breaks, the lie grows thin.
And something ends that called itself a world…
So something real may now begin.
---------------------
Too Late…
In pitch-black Hell’s suffocating prison
A wretched soul now twists and burns.
Too late for tears, too late for reason —
No path to what the heart still yearns.
We sold away what once was sacred,
Betrayed the closest, kin and kind.
And so we walk through years of hatred
With ruin waiting far behind.
We will not die by fascist terror —
We are the killers of this Earth.
We are the peak of human error,
The final stage of mindless dearth.
So we will be distilled and scattered
Like lice from rotting, filthy rags.
For all the years we proudly gathered
Our “creations” — dung and bags.
Mental fumes we keep exhaling,
A plague that spreads across the land.
Earth’s sickness now is slowly failing
To any healing hand.
And soon the Sun will purge and burn us —
And rightly so, let judgment fall.
Stupid fools of dead provinces —
A mix of coward and of thrall.
---------------------
Too late for mercy.
Only fire remains.
---------------------
Consumer Society
Consumer-whores and howling voices,
Fools in every possible guise,
Who for glittering empty choices
Sold their souls to devil’s lies —
Judgment now is growing nearer!
Here no “belly” can be spared.
All the hollow, mindless feeders
Are already marked and cleared.
Sunlight burns with growing fury,
Earth now answers in its tone.
Pain will rise with final jury —
Shattering your deadened drone.
For obedience, fear, betrayal,
For forgetting what is true —
You will pay in final trial,
As the fools are swept from view.
Only few within the Spirit
Will remain at final gate.
From the Hand that brings the verdict
There is no escape from fate.
If you never stood resisting,
Never fought against the dark,
If you bowed while evil persisted —
Then your end is sealed and stark.
---------------------
No resistance — no survival.
Only judgment remains.
---------------------
Crooked Truth
The most terrifying thing is Truth,
The easiest thing is Lie.
And from that clash is born the Crooked —
Truth inverted, multiplied.
What’s left behind is hollow fables
For fools who gladly swallow lies.
They cling to them like broken tables —
The nonsense that enslaves their eyes.
Within that nonsense, scattered fragments
Of truth exist — just to bind
All fabricated, false arrangements
So nothing fully breaks the mind.
But there is no real connection —
The bond is held by phantom will.
A phantom rules as new direction,
While thoughts are frozen, cold and still.
In world of phantoms, madness teaches
What passes now for “truth” and “law.”
Forgetfulness of Spirit reaches
And makes indifference the core.
We live inside a madhouse prison,
If Spirit is no longer known —
A filthy, hell-born modern vision,
Where servants serve the inhuman throne.
Restoring link with Spirit’s fire
Is the only path ahead.
And all the filth, the false empire
Will fall — the inhuman dead.
---------------------
When Spirit returns —
the phantom world collapses.
---------------------
Warming
Crows are flying northward —
They never heard of “carbon blame.”
Yet somehow they are more aligned
Than a dulled and blinded human frame.
Beasts dig deep their burrows,
Sensing something’s gone astray.
We are living Harvest season —
Reaping death for what we pay.
The Sun grows ever brighter,
Burning Bedlam out of sight.
We will answer for becoming
Cattle lost to inner night.
Judgment for forgetting Spirit
Has one form — and that is end.
Do dung-fed flies deserve divine mercy,
Or the order Heaven sends?
Soon the Earth will start to tremble,
Moving toward the blazing Sun.
Still you dream of “heaven’s promise”
While your inner soul is done?
Only few will find survival —
Those who stand against the Lie,
Those who do not bow in terror
To the horned and hollow eye.
---------------------
When Spirit dies —
the Sun becomes judgment.
---------------------
Test of Reason
Bananavirus — a test of reason.
And this test has failed in full.
Among dissenters stands one thinking human
In a world already dull.
Stupidity is mass infection,
Two-thirds are already gone.
The main motif is resignation —
No escape, no rising dawn.
Statistically — a world of sickness,
A clinical, disturbing state.
Those who “rule” are pure derangement,
Guided by a broken fate.
All their “instructions” are theater —
Clowns on zombie television screens.
Strip away their painted faces —
Only madness and cash remains.
The world is a psychiatric system,
In its final, extreme stage.
And it’s far too late to fix it —
Truth is locked inside a cage.
Psychopaths define “normality,”
Calling darkness “human law.”
And “normal” here is mind extinction —
Reason stripped to nothing more.
And the fate of this super-asylum
Is disposal, end of line.
It is poisoned at the origin —
Madness as the world’s design.
---------------------
When madness becomes normal —
the world is already finished.
---------------------
No Barriers to Shearing and Slaughter
A pretentious fool in command
Leads the dull and bleating band.
A bolder goat takes point and hand,
Guiding sheep through wasteland.
Hardship comes in two-fold guise —
Shearing sheds and slaughter lines.
Yet every sheep still feels it wise
To trust the path that falsely shines.
For promises of grand reward
Are placed at journey’s end.
And all proceed along the board
Where no resistance bends.
---------------------
When fools lead the herd —
the knife is already waiting.
---------------------
The Blessing of Alienation
Spirit is infinite power —
Dare but to reach and you’ll know.
Yet there is a hidden hour:
If the world feels “sweet,” let it go.
For without distance and severing
You cannot grasp what is real.
You’ll mistake every glittering covering
For something you truly can feel.
And stumbling again in confusion,
You’ll stay in this earthly decay —
Rotting with crowds in illusion,
In Hell that you never escape.
---------------------
Only from distance
does Spirit become strength.
---------------------
In the “Upside-Down” World
A barrel of bile in a spoon of honey,
Fear and despair, and skies gone gray.
Every effort dissolves to nothing —
All of it wasted along the way.
For the main misfortune is hidden:
Cycles are sealed in a turning coil.
Downward spiral is fate, unbidden —
Dragged to the depths through endless toil.
Called “progress” by ancient deceivers,
Sold as ascent and rising light.
But the truth is a world of inversions —
A flipped-up mirror of endless night.
---------------------
Up is down.
And progress is descent.
---------------------
Burn the Lie of Fools with the Word
Burn the fools who live in varnish,
Soaked in Lie as in their skin.
Drive it all until it’s finished —
Till the final war within.
That “ending” is no neat conclusion —
Just a stain of blood and pain.
Messenger falls in dissolution,
Heart laid open in its stain.
Through death itself the soul is saved
If you struggle to the end.
Only wounded heart is faithful —
All the rest is empty wind.
---------------------
Speak — and the Lie burns.
---------------------
Readiness and “Cooking”
Like pioneers once “ready” stood
For labor and defense of fate —
I walk with crowds through rot and flood,
Prepared for anything they create.
For lies are skillfully injected,
Turning reason into dust.
And readiness is thus directed
To higher heat of blind mistrust.
A double bottom hides the game —
For “gavaah” is always ready food.
A boiling feast without a name
Served warm for something cruel and crude.
---------------------
Prepared for everything —
because the lie prepares us first.
---------------------
The Only Craft
There is one craft among us all —
Just learning how to stay alive
Inside the global grinding hall
That cuts the mind to half its drive.
It shaves away all thought and reason,
Then breaks what’s left of soul and spark.
And Evil mends the broken pieces
To make its puppets in the dark.
Among obedient, hollow figures,
To simply live is to lie low —
Pressed to the ground while the machine works,
Still breathing where the dead winds blow.
---------------------
To survive here —
is the only skill left.
---------------------
Manuals from the Higher Command
Handbooks for the propaganda craft,
For those who mold the public mind —
Come stamped from above, and as they draft,
They turn their carriers half-blind.
For in the eyes of those who rule them,
The “client” is already naught.
And so the system slowly schools them
Into the same distorted thought.
Down every link the poison travels —
From command to lower hand.
Toxins seep through flesh and marrow,
While lies infect what minds withstand.
---------------------
Top-down lies —
turn the messengers into fools.
---------------------
Moths and Cockroaches
So many moths and crawling vermin
Inside the heads of men and crowds.
And minds unbroken — rare as sermons
Of truth above the noisy clouds.
Like birds from pages of extinction,
They vanish quietly from sight.
Reason suffers contradiction
In a world that dims all light.
Spirit is a boundless pasture —
A flood of power, clear and free.
And there the wise are moving faster,
Escaping dull captivity.
That’s where all true ones are flying,
Toward that realm of open flame.
While fools remain here only trying
To dream what they cannot name.
---------------------
Reason is rare.
Madness is everywhere.
---------------------
Empty Solitude
Empty solitude only multiplies void,
When it meets its reflection in kind —
Sinking deeper in tensions employed
By demands that exhaust and bind.
Only Light could ever fill it,
Only Light could make it whole.
Yet the broken ones still will it
To embrace delusion’s role.
So no unity is forming —
Only fracture, split, and strife.
And that discord, ever storming,
Becomes the answer of their life.
---------------------
Void meets void —
and the world fractures further.
---------------------
World’s Settling Tank
The darker night, the brighter stars —
But only up there in the sky.
Down here, in filth and broken jars,
The world becomes a hollow lie.
Whatever carries even a fraction
Of light and seeks to share it wide,
Is sunk below, removed from action —
It settles where all things die.
And what crawls upward through the sorrow,
Through muck and through distorted dreams —
A “star,” yet blackened by its borrow
Of all that darkness means.
---------------------
Up is darkness.
Down is truth buried.
---------------------
Through Shadows, to Hell with Them
Through shadows — straight to hell with them,
A volley of furious satire.
We must bring this Bedlam down
With verse like a firing mortar.
If the poet is no fool,
But filled with resolve and fire,
To overturn the false-made world
Of rotten “society” and wire —
Then even in the mind itself
You may topple a few at last.
And you will not have fought in vain
Against the Lie while trapped in the mass.
---------------------
Poetry is artillery —
aimed at lies.
---------------------
Propaganda: From Flowing Water to a Thunderous Fizz
Media fizz —
booming everywhere,
sense dissolves in murky whirls,
trash for those who don’t care.
Zero on zero,
a faint “one” appears —
but don’t you listen,
don’t waste your ears.
It’s filth, not water,
no life, no stream.
Just noise pretending
to mean a dream.
---------------------
Noise is not meaning.
---------------------
Religion
Nothing but nonsense—plain and clear,
And deeper still, it breeds the fear.
The stronger terror takes its hold,
The more salvation myths are sold.
“Deliverance” becomes the aim,
And Church grows strong in Heaven’s name.
Yet Spirit fades in twisted guise
While fools kneel down with tearful eyes.
They trade their soul for empty light,
And hand it over to the night.
Satanic shade begins to rise —
But idiocy cannot realize.
---------------------
Where fear is worship —
reason dies first.
---------------------
“Rising from the Knees” — The Trampling of “Free Speech”
“Rising from the knees” — a hollow act,
While “freedom of speech” is bent and cracked.
For money’s sake, and promises made,
The same old theater is replayed.
And once again—yes, once again—
Empty minds are crowned as “men.”
The hollow head becomes the sign
Of a people fooled by every line.
Believing beasts once more appear,
They turn their rage to fight the “West,”
And spill their neighbors’ blood in fear,
Convinced it serves a noble quest.
---------------------
Freedom sold —
and minds go hollow.
---------------------
Legalized Prostitution
The fish rots first within the head,
In laws that crown what’s vile instead.
The “constitution” sits above —
A hidden form of bought-out love.
In real life, selling out is king,
But wrapped in “serious” everything.
That hollow “importance” fell apart
When CowID tore the mask apart.
And now it’s clear for all to see —
The world decays in plain decree.
---------------------
Law at the top —
rot underneath.
---------------------
It Is Never Too Late to Learn
It’s never too late to be taught —
Though truth itself is under threat.
If you refuse the lies they brought,
You’ll trail the herd they’ve formed as set.
The “experiment” runs through ages long —
To shape the human mind to dust.
To turn all thinking right to wrong,
And fill perception full of rust.
Through fear and lies, applied with care,
They make it global, tight, and vast.
In this insane infernal sphere —
A world where reason cannot last.
---------------------
Learn the lie — or be left behind.
---------------------
Boundless Chimeras
Chimeras without any measure,
A gray-and-black world without pleasure.
White color is penned and confined —
As Terra in falsehood is lined.
They painted in white, oh so clumsily,
A filth so absurd and so gloomily,
That only in drunken illusion
Could anyone fall for confusion.
Yet tricking the “people” is easy —
The fools are abundant and greasy.
No shortage of idiots here —
Enough to sustain every lie and fear.
---------------------
Black lies,
whitewashed madness.
---------------------
Betrayals Again
Betrayals return — they call it “change,”
As if the world could re-arrange.
But you can’t shed decay and rot —
It’s woven into Gaia’s plot.
Decay and lies have overflowed —
An infernal, madman code.
This infernal tide will break and spread,
The idiot becomes the weapon led.
The beasts are turning people to herd,
To livestock bound without a word.
The making of the fool is done —
A work of darkness, one by one.
---------------------
Change is the mask —
rot is the core.
---------------------
When Idiots Multiply
When the herd of fools keeps growing,
Feeding on lies and empty noise,
Pour your strength on those still knowing —
Not on that brood of fascist ploys.
You cannot help them: degradation
Has crossed a point beyond return.
And now the world, in its mutation,
Ranks monsters while the few still learn.
A mad system sorts the living —
Few remain with sense and sight.
Rare are those still understanding,
Rare the ones who choose the light.
---------------------
Save the few who still can see.
---------------------
The Uselessness of Uncommon Thought
The uselessness of thought unbroken
Becomes quite clear in this small world,
Where every mind is tightly yoked
To reach the trough first, flags unfurled.
Here “elbow sense” becomes distorted —
A twisted code of “help your own.”
For sharper elbows, unapportioned,
Push you ahead toward the throne.
No principle will slow the racing,
No doubt will stand against the rush.
The ones who shove, who bend, who chase it —
Reach the trough first in the crush.
---------------------
Think less —
reach faster.
---------------------
Priorities
It’s crucial here to learn to sell out —
The road to “success” and easy gold.
Be honest, brave, and stand without doubt,
Unbent by lies, unbought, uncontrolled —
And you’ll be left in quiet isolation,
Forgotten, drifting out of view.
That’s your reward in this strange nation
For staying honest, strong, and true.
For all around is decomposition,
A reign of fear, decay, and grime —
A lawless swarm of beastly vision
That rules this age, this end of time.
---------------------
Sell out — you rise.
Stay true — you fall alone.
---------------------
“One’s Own Shirt Is Closer to the Body”
One’s own shirt is closest to the skin —
They flay the flesh somewhere afar.
I’ll sigh a little, then begin
To earn a new one as I are.
A coin to some poor wretch I’ll toss,
And conscience feels both light and clean.
The world may drown — but that’s no loss,
We’ve known that tale since times unseen.
And yet the evening calls me still —
A dinner rich with meat and cheese.
Let distant chaos rage and spill,
While I sit calmly, warm and at ease.
---------------------
Skin elsewhere bleeds —
here, dinner is served.
---------------------
School of Politics
To break into the Clown Academy
You’ve got to crawl through filth and slime.
If no dirt sticks, you’re just a standby —
An extra hand for someone’s prime.
You serve a fading old performer,
While life itself speeds past you blind.
And in that passing train of chaos
A pack of clowns grows rich, refined.
There ride the mobs of petty rulers,
The bureaucrats with painted grin —
And all of them chase easy fortunes
In that circus thick with sin.
---------------------
Politics:
clown school with velvet chains.
---------------------
Melancholy
Melancholy — my old companion,
No jelly-softness in her hold;
She grips like iron, cold and stubborn,
Not something easily controlled.
Don’t try to cut her down or sever —
Such thoughts are vain, they lead nowhere.
For in her company, quite often,
A clear, awake mind can appear.
You reach the realm of lucid thinking
Not by defeating sorrow’s weight,
But when you turn its dark momentum
To fuel a higher, creative state —
And channel it into a force that
Can smash the rot, the lies, the grime,
Transforming heaviness to motion,
And waste to meaning, form, and rhyme.
---------------------
Turn pain into fire.
---------------------
Sons of Bitches
“A son of a bitch, maybe — but he’s our son of a bitch!”
— Franklin D. Roosevelt
A son of a bitch — but one of ours,
The favorite type of those in power.
The world is sick inside its head,
And rots from top down hour by hour.
From leadership the decay begins,
Yet fools are crowned as “normal state.”
The abnormal becomes the standard —
And reason sealed outside the gate.
So tell me plain, without illusion:
Is this a world… or just manure?
When filth becomes the new “normality,”
What then remains that’s still pure?
---------------------
Rot at the top —
called “normal” below.
---------------------
Parody of Western Cinema
Propaganda dressed in neon glow,
A triumph staged in every show.
Each film, each series on the screen
Turns worlds to shades of pink obscene.
No party once could even dream
Of such a polished, endless stream.
No need for force — it wins by art,
By shaping minds and numbing heart.
Now every frame a modern Sodom,
A polished chaos, neat and common.
A rotten world in glossy dress —
Controlled collapse, sold as success.
---------------------
Glittered Sodom —
sold as culture.
---------------------
Adelaide: Sea of Shame
Adelaide — a sea of shame,
Where fascism wears a virus name.
A duce, f;hrer in disguise,
Your governor in devil’s guise.
And people too, a pitiful sight,
Obedient to each new fright.
Masks on, injections — “all deserved,”
While sense and courage get unnerved.
And those who stood against the lie,
Are pushed aside, left out to dry.
As truth dissolves in daily grime,
And fraud becomes the face of time.
---------------------
Shame floods the city —
truth is exiled.
---------------------
“Marching Back to First Grade for the Third Time”
“Back to first grade, march again!” —
That’s the law of minds in decay.
The inhuman tightens the chain,
Driving the last reason away.
Once more we step on the rake of lies,
On fear we’ve learned to endure.
And it happens because we still prize
The habit to bow and be sure
That retreat is the safer decision,
That evil deserves our respect.
So we circle the same old collision —
And call it a “life,” more or less correct.
---------------------
Same rake, same fall —
called “progress.”
---------------------
Time Is Shifting
Time is unstable, forms are only gleaming,
Meanings run deeper than words can contain.
If you’ve caught it — that faint inner beaming —
Then your head is no longer the main.
In these strange and shifting dimensions,
Where reality loosens its frame,
You’ve opened a crack in perception —
A glimpse through the surface of flame.
And through that thin breach of awareness,
The chatter of worlds fades away.
Lucifer’s noisy illusions
Lose grip on the mind’s lighted way.
---------------------
A crack opens —
and the lie falls silent.
---------------------
I Step Out Alone onto the Road
I step out alone onto the road,
cursing softly — all around is code
of decay and dullness: every node
of this world feels cheap, worn-out, erode.
Idiots search for truth and God
in what is clearly Satan’s fraud.
And it weighs upon the soul like dread —
for now it spreads in masks instead.
It’s everywhere, yet better dressed,
not crude as in the times before.
And hope feels faint inside my chest —
I may not make it anymore.
I drift, I fade, I lose direction —
and hope itself turns to rejection.
---------------------
Alone on the road —
hope flickers out.
---------------------
The Devil’s Rear
Altruists and fascists too,
Liberals, communists — a stew
Of nonsense in a murky view,
All self-enthralled, with nothing new.
All minds just masturbate on thought,
Detached from Spirit — fully caught.
For once the higher link is lost,
The fall begins, no matter cost.
The rest is just the Devil’s rear,
Where every “idea” disappears.
Chewed up, digested, turned to waste —
A world of slogans, blind and base.
So cast them out, don’t hesitate —
Send all this noise to its own fate.
---------------------
Mind cut from Spirit —
everything rots.
---------------------
Golden Mountains
You hold the promise of gold-lit peaks —
and women come without much thought.
But poverty is what the poet seeks,
a rare flame life has sometimes brought.
A moment rare, when she is drawn
not to wealth, but to the Gift inside.
Yet such a spark is quickly gone —
for bondage keeps its steady tide.
And so the world keeps trading still:
for brilliance lost, it takes the cheap.
While emptiness becomes the skill
from which the dull their profits reap.
---------------------
Gold buys the crowd —
but truth buys almost none.
---------------------
The Plagues of Egypt (Rewritten World)
The so-called plagues of ancient tale —
distorted now by lies that prevail.
Through falsehood comes the quiet kill
of mind and thought, then deeper still
the soul begins its slow decay —
a fate far worse than death’s own way.
So trust the one that suffers most:
the soul oppressed by this dark ghost.
For all around is purest fraud,
a naked Satan is the god
they serve in silence, day by day —
horned truth they kneel to and obey.
---------------------
False gods reign —
and minds are broken first.
---------------------
False Religions
Nonsense raised to pure insanity,
madness dressed as “sanctity.”
One would drop the whole illusion,
end the cult of false conclusion —
if it weren’t for the added lure:
promised life forevermore.
Eternal deals — the final trade —
for obedience gently made.
A bargain struck with darker force,
the devil guiding every course.
That’s all that’s left behind the veil —
more or less, the Judas tale.
---------------------
Eternal lies —
sold as salvation.
---------------------
Beginning or End of the World?
The “temples” crumble,
light begins its uprising.
Boors fall downward,
into hell’s surprising.
A world of subtraction —
what’s false is erased.
Your sheep-like mind bowed
to filth and disgrace.
Once more for the slaughter
those heads are aligned.
The Sun grows much brighter,
erasing mankind.
It sweeps all corruption,
all worlds built on lies —
a blaze of correction
beneath burning skies.
---------------------
Light rises.
Masks fall.
---------------------
Upgrading Cars and “Minds”
“Upgrade your ride!” — the common call,
So people scramble, one and all.
They push, they chase, they overstrain,
To shine like smoke that fades in rain.
To stand out loud, to look enhanced —
Yet life itself is just a dance
Of empty flashes, brief and thin,
A puff of air, a painted grin.
Or maybe we’ve been “upgraded” too?
Made dumb in ways we never knew.
Or maybe it’s just lies at play —
The meme-lords smiling on their way.
---------------------
Upgrade the car —
downgrade the mind.
---------------------
The Poet’s Site
A bot of junk reads every line,
yet no one visits, no reply.
For just a moment doubt may shine —
can this world’s nonsense ever die?
But that is not your task to carry:
if words arrive, then let them flow.
Poems aren’t for the crowd you worry —
they’re for the soul’s own quiet glow.
---------------------
Write —
even if no one reads.
---------------------
Skepticism
It is not doubt that steals the mind,
but certainty that blinds instead.
The crowd sees only truth defined —
and calls all questioning “misled.”
For doubt, in fact, can sharpen sight,
and build the mind from shattered schemes.
While blind conviction feels like light,
it keeps you trapped inside its dreams.
So skepticism breaks the chain —
and from the herd you drift away.
You see through noise, you cut through pain,
and leave the stampeded gray.
---------------------
Certainty blinds —
doubt awakens.
---------------------
Like a Fairytale by Order
Like in a tale, by someone’s guiding,
the “people” march to “happiness,”
once masks, and now helmets riding
through paths of managed emptiness.
The inhuman throws its nonsense
into the crowd like bait and dust,
and all it gains is silent compliance —
that’s the age we’re living in, I trust.
The beasts will only amplify
the absurdity they broadcast wide,
until we reach, with one last sigh,
the bottom where all truths have died.
---------------------
March to “happiness” —
blindly led.
---------------------
Those “in the Tank”
Those “in the tank,” at dawn’s first light,
are geared for yet another raid.
In supermarkets, bagels in sight,
and “Snow” — a cake, sweetly displayed.
Those “in the tank” will change their ride
from carts to iron steeds once more.
For darkness calls — they fall in line,
the same old beasts, as once before.
And all else? Just noise and dust —
dismissed as nonsense, brushed aside.
When orders come, they follow trust,
and truth itself is cast outside.
---------------------
March, obey,
and call it “normal.”
---------------------
Where Art Is Addressed
Once it spoke to thinking minds,
now it flatters rotting taste.
Cheap delight the fool confines,
while reason slowly turns to waste.
A beast now rules the lowered stage,
and deepens every fall and crack.
Degradation writes the page —
no step is forward, only back.
In fenced pens a faint protest squeaks,
too thin, too weak to shape the room.
And “soap,” once plain, now oddly speaks
as something prized amid the gloom.
---------------------
Art to minds —
now art to rot.
---------------------
Close to the Essence on the Path
Close to the Essence on the road —
yet no one walks that way beside.
The crowd rushes toward “joy” bestowed,
and tumbles where the blind abide.
Choose now between clear knowing sight
and easy “happiness” that lies.
For in the end it turns to blight,
a bitter taste behind the prize.
If you give in, if you relent,
and follow where the masses go,
your steps will find the same descent —
the downward road where all things flow.
---------------------
Crowds choose joy —
and fall into the pit.
---------------------
In the Thickets of Foolish Chaos
In thickets of a senseless maze
we drift like deer and elk in haze.
While grazing softly, unaware,
we chew the grass, we breathe the air —
the inhuman sets its hidden snare
right by the feeding trough laid bare.
It lures us in with stinking brew,
then drives us where it wants us to.
A loud “puff-puff” — the media feed,
same empty noise that we are led
to trust as truth, though all it breeds
is poison poured into the head.
---------------------
Graze —
and the trap closes.
---------------------
To Fall in Love, to Drift Away
To fall in love — and drift from sight,
to drink and drown the day in haze,
to lose oneself in fleeting night,
and blur the mind in empty daze.
Then comes the needle, dull escape —
but never fight the spreading dark.
You swallow lies, you change your shape,
and lose the final human spark.
So in this fog it drags along —
a life half-lived, half-dead, half-gone.
No waking from that endless wrong,
no rising when the mind is done.
---------------------
Numbed —
and never waking.
---------------------
Beyond Words and Ideas
Beyond all words — a flash of sight,
beyond ideas, sudden light.
More than inspiration’s flame,
it cannot fit in any name.
It will not fall in speech or art,
nor feed the hollow, empty heart.
Not pictures made for dull delight —
not fodder for the blinded mind.
It strikes instead and changes all,
a shift that shakes the inner core.
So hurry — answer when it calls,
and dive into that endless shore.
Immerse yourself in vision’s sea,
if you are not a sheep set free.
---------------------
Beyond words —
the mind breaks open.
---------------------
A Doomed World Ruled by Evil
A doomed world under rule of dark,
where every dream is just a mark —
a dangling carrot for the mule:
career, and cash, the golden rule.
In such a world, to rise is taught
to blend in grey, be seen as naught.
The dullest shade — that’s your luck,
your “career” in the modern wreck.
And money? Only few will land
a lucky hit, a sleight-of-hand,
through schemes and traps that never cease —
a carnival of broken peace.
And thus the crowd keeps running blind,
driven by scraps that rot the mind.
---------------------
Run for carrots —
and call it life.
---------------------
“Knowledge” Leading into Darkness
It is questioning — not “knowledge” —
that can break through all the lies.
For the mind that trusts its slogans
slowly serves the dark disguise.
Every answer lives within you —
but fear clouds the inner sight.
You must struggle past its shadow,
push through blindness into light.
Even when you feel defeated,
even when you think you’re weak —
only then the veil can tremble,
only then the truth may speak.
---------------------
Question —
and darkness cracks.
---------------------
Simulated Movement in a Doomed Place
The signposts stand — they never stray,
fixed in place, unmoved, the same.
While those who “lead” have lost their way,
and drift in circles, void of aim.
A restless fuss in rotten ground,
a doomed place where all motion lies.
And high above, without a sound,
the Horned One watches from the skies.
---------------------
Movement —
that goes nowhere.
---------------------
Violence Without Cause
Men of rage without a reason —
“real men” of the modern season —
are sent to kill in foreign lands
for money, not for higher plans.
The Spirit? Disregarded, gone.
They march for coin and come undone.
And back return, in endless streams,
the cargo of their shattered dreams —
sealed in wagons, cold and grim,
a freight of death, a broken hymn.
And home again it rolls once more —
a hollow land, a hollow war.
---------------------
Kill for cash —
return as cargo.
---------------------
“The Science of Good”
“The science of good” — what empty sound,
a polished lie that goes around.
To learn such “truth” is to be led
into the pathways dark and dead.
For every other so-called art,
without true good within the heart,
becomes a weapon turned astray —
a harm that never fades away.
So what is taught as “good” today?
Just fear and nonsense in display —
and what begins as calm and light
descends at last into the night
of totalized, consuming wrong,
where everything goes bleak and wrong.
---------------------
False “good” taught —
becomes harm in disguise.
---------------------
Carrying Water in a Sieve
We carry water in a sieve —
what fools we are, what fools believe.
Inside us only liquid fear,
that seeps and drips from year to year.
For such is water’s simple law —
it always slips through every flaw.
And so our lives drift down the slope,
with little room for will or hope.
That water is our lies and dread,
the thoughts we swallow, blindly fed.
We are not men, not truly free —
but herded beasts in captivity.
And all the earth, in every part,
has turned into a fenced-off yard.
---------------------
Sieve in hand —
and everything leaks out.
---------------------
“Pioneers” of Endless Measure
“Pioneers” without a limit,
lost inside a shifting spirit —
a chimera rules the stage,
and the loudest fool takes page.
The loudmouth climbs to lead the line,
“first” in rank — a perfect sign.
Nerves are dulled, the senses numbed,
thought itself has been succumbed.
Skin grown thick beyond all measure,
brains rinsed clean of doubt and pressure.
Lies now feel like birthright creed —
firstborn sin of thought and deed.
And once again the sight grows dim —
no horizon, no clear rim.
---------------------
Blind ranks —
and fools lead first.
---------------------
To Kill Fear
To end all fear — that is the gate
that leads the mind to truer state.
At full speed on the inner track,
with lies stuffed tightly in your sack —
just throw them out, let them be gone:
they won’t dissolve, they weigh you down.
And faith — let it belong to Spirit,
not words the hollow crowd may mimic.
Cast out the filth, don’t let it stay —
it never fades, it blocks the way.
The sage is moving far beyond,
racing where most cannot respond.
And only such a one deserves
a bow before what he preserves.
---------------------
Kill fear —
and mind wakes up.
291 poems
© Copyright: Èãîðü Âûõîâàíåö, 2026
Ñâèäåòåëüñòâî î ïóáëèêàöèè ¹126042703152
Ñâèäåòåëüñòâî î ïóáëèêàöèè ¹126042703152
Ðåöåíçèè