Клан Крюгеров

Суверенный лепрозорий:
Нестыковок в оном море,
Лепра поразила мозг —
И пошёл он вновь вразнос.




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Sovereign Leprosarium

A sovereign leprosarium stands,
Where mismatched thoughts like water span.
Leprosy has struck his mind—
Now chaos reigns, he’s lost and blind.



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Клан Крюгеров

Симен Крюгер, Фредди Крюгер —
Кто страшнее, не поймёшь:
Первый на последнем круге,
А второй, ядрёна вошь,

В сны идёт чрез зомбоящик.
Впрочем, первый пострашней:
Лыжи ад ведь настоящий
Самым крепким из людей.

Марафон бежал когда-то.
Вспоминаю эти дни
С содроганием. Расплата —
Пуд здоровья: не гони!

Не гони ты на спортсменов —
Много чудиков средь них.
Фредди Крюгеру на смену
Симен Крюгер, крепок, лих.



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The Kruger Clan

Simen Kr;ger, Freddy Krueger—
Who's the scarier of the two?
One’s the last-lap ruthless ruler,
One’s the nightmare haunting you.

Freddy creeps through screens at midnight,
Yet Simen’s fearsome in his way:
The hell of skis is no less frightful,
Breaking mortals day by day.

Once, I ran the race for glory,
Memories shake me to the core.
The price I paid? A pound of vigor—
Take it slow, don’t chase the score.

Spare your scorn for all the athletes;
Oddballs walk among their kind.
As Freddy fades, here comes young Simen—
Tough and fearless, sharp of mind.



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Collective madness

Greed, the herd, and madness reign,
A collective, toxic chain.
Lies spread thick, like poison gas—
Truth has nearly breathed its last.



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Literary Scholars, Teachers, and the Rest...

"No classic writer would ever pass an exam on their own works."
— Boles;aw Paszkowski


They dig and discover,
"Meanings," depths untold,
Though two layers hover—
Still, they call it gold.

Digging with precision,
Finding what’s not there,
Claiming "deep revision"
As the author stares.

Hidden gems? No bother—
Give a task, they’ll plow.
"Meanings," stuffed and smothered,
Fit a tale somehow.

Even tiny stories
Make them stop and think.
Authors, lost in worries,
Cry: “They need a shrink!”

In the schools, they “heal” them—
Essays fill the air,
Like a drunk revealing
Chaos everywhere.

Writers pen their pages,
Meanings left to stray.
Simple work for ages,
Plowed fields all the way.



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Experiment

The sun is shining bright today,
The world’s alive, in full display.
Yet in my heart, a bitter note—
For I’m an idiot.

An idiot—thus Nature’s rules
Are mocked by men and flocks of fools.
And so, in shadows, troubles rise—
Our world is bound by lies.

We are many, countless hordes,
Idiots who praise false lords.
For Satan’s throne, we strive and scheme,
Chasing wealth—the "golden dream."

Books we read with hollow pride,
Yet wisdom’s missing deep inside.
Nothing there to feed the soul—
All is fake and bought for gold.

"Plagues" invented, wars ignite,
Dragging us into the fight.
Useless now, we’ve lost the thread—
Fit for nothing but the dead.

The sun is shining brighter still,
Each day it burns with sharpened will.
Soon it turns to scorching fire—
We’ll perish in its pyre.

Yet Earth will cool, and once again
A fool will rise, a beast in men.
He’ll trample Nature’s sacred ground,
A mindless herd, the cycle bound.

It’s all devolving, evil’s game—
An experiment in shame.
"Obey the law!" the tyrants shout,
Or they’ll snuff your spirit out.



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The "Development" of Mind

When "mind development" runs wild,
The odds are high—it’s soon defiled.
It slides to idiocy fast—
And thus, decadence grips us vast.

The CowID years made clear to see:
Most people dwell in idiocy.
"Development" skewed, the selfish breed—
A parasite born of boundless greed.

Professors, doctors, cops, MPs,
Officials crawling on their knees—
Revealed as frauds, a shameless lot,
While crowds just spin and toil for naught.

The Heart supreme, the mind a tool—
Only then the order’s cool.
You’ll stand, not bow to creatures vile,
Nor sink into the world’s defile.

Defile—no less, no more, just that.
CowID has shown where reason’s at.
But under Spirit, mind grows fine—
It won’t betray with falls so blind.



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"Money rules the world!" they say—
Meaning you’ll be led astray,
Serving Evil every time,
Just a pawn in petty crime.

Rise above? You’d stand no chance—
Evil's grip will end your plans.
It’s a master, cruel and sly,
Stealing dreams as years go by.



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The Knave Rejects the Truth

The knave resents the light of truth,
For life’s a loss, a game uncouth.
Without a king to end the fight,
He’ll face his fate in silent fright.



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The Ostrich World

The world’s in flames, the end is near,
Yet thoughts of doom are brushed aside with cheer.
This ostrich world won’t face the fight—
It only bows to evil’s might.



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The Search

I'm drunk, a lantern by my side,
I search for keys I lost in night.
From darkness comes a friend’s loud cry—
He’s fallen in a ditch, oh my.

This is the search for Light in dark,
While lanterns lead us on to Hell.
For on the cross, no truth will spark—
The knave will use lies as his spell.

The lantern’s power holds so tight,
When Sun is gone, it rules the night.
Under its glow, seek out the truth—
Why must the filth in ditches lie?

Does this road lead to Hell’s cruel door?
Who set the lanterns everywhere?
One stands apart, awaits the dawn—
The Morning Star, his soul laid bare.



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