Игорь Выхованец, стихи 9501-10000

Игорь Выхованец

Игорь Выхованец, стихи: 9501-10000

Little Folk of Lying Land

Little folk of Lying Land —
Dragging on through war and sand.
"Path" they call their dull routine,
Lost in fog, in mud, unseen.

War for what? For soulless schemes.
See the gates — the Beast still dreams.
Look around — just lifeless meat.
Cowards kneel and call defeat.

But the few with Spirit's fire —
Warriors! Their hearts don't tire.
Alone they stand, but never bend:
To serve the dark? That’s not the end!

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

Just meat obeys. The Spirit fights.
One torch can burn a thousand nights.

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Greed and Whining,
Stuck Declining:
Then — comes Dullness,
Spineless Muteness,
INFERNAL SICKNESS.
Freedom? Lost it.
Herd — now worships
Ass-fed rules and slimy gossip.

Not a world — a creeping CESSPIT.

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

Herds kneel low —
while maggots grow.
Your "world"? A cesspit, soaked in woe.

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

Patriarchs of Zen

Not some saints in marble stories —
Crack your skull if you play dumb.
Scorned the world with all its worries —
Dust and noise, it all must numb.

Spirit — pure — their sole endeavor.
All else? Trash, a passing lie.
They knew well: the proud, the clever —
Preach and babble, then they die.

Now the verse becomes their staff,
But the Patriarch is gone.
What remains? Just broken paths,
Endless questions, LIES — and yawn.

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

No Zen remains — just echoes lie.
The staff is mute. The fools still cry.

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Dragging burdens,
Dull and dead,
Plus a pack of
Lies you fed.

Find your fury,
Drop the load —
Burn it, bury —
Hit the road!

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

Trash the lies —
and let soul rise.

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

Lengthwise, crosswise — shred and sever
Truth and honor, mind and pride.
Freedom? Slashed. And now forever —
Rotting scum takes joy in lies.

Endless filth — and no resistance.
Local herds just grunt and nod.
What a hell! It stinks with distance.
What a wrathful, raving God!

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

Truth is flayed — and none protest.
Welcome, Hell. You know the rest.

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

Crosswise, lengthwise — all dissected:
Truth is torn, and honor wrecked.
Mind and freedom — all rejected,
By the rotting scum's revenge.

Day by day, with no defiance,
Wretches take the stench as norm.
Madness reigns, and foul compliance
Feeds this Hell in perfect form.

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

Truth is butchered — cowards cheer.
Welcome, Hell. You're already here.

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

Victory

The rashist scum
Will pay in full.
Their filth will come —
Then meet the Bull.

The Spirit fierce
Will clear the way,
And tear their curse
Like rot from clay.

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

Fierce is the Flame —
and scum will burn.

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

The Deeper the Woods...

The deeper the woods — the lazier the fighters.
The bigger the lie — the worse the broken fibers.
The smarter the tech — the faster it will crash.
The stronger the fear — the deeper comes the slash.

The clearer the "system" — the slicker the chain.
The stronger the Spirit — the sharper the brain.
The simpler the path — the easier to block.
Believe in the sludge? You’ll die like a mock.

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

Truth gets sharp when Spirit wakes.
Mute and dumb? The darkness takes.

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

No More Cartoon...

Winnie licks the final honey,
Piglet snivels, small and weak —
He’s the “people,” sweet and funny,
But he only dies offscreen.

In real life he’s grown and bloated,
Spirit’s gone — a soulless swine.
All the tales have been demoted —
Only STUPID FEAR survives.

Cracks are spreading through the framing,
And the “cartoon” fades to black:
Not just gangsters — beasts are reigning.
Slaves enrich their vile pack.

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

The cartoon’s dead. The beasts are real.
And slaves just fatten up their meal.

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

The End of Wonderland

Wonderland is ruled by jackals —
Dodo’s gone, the Rabbit’s dead.
Cheshire Cat, once sly and crackle,
Fled — now fleas bite Dove instead.

Mad March Hare’s a bureaucratic,
Hatter’s now a lab-coat pawn.
Even Gryphon’s turned fanatic —
Fairy tale? It's long since gone.

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

Wonderland has bled to dust —
All that’s left is fear and rust.

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

Reflection Method

Traitors smeared, obedient chained,
Freaks of Darkness hold the reins.
Only bribes give meaning now —
This is how they keep the vow.

Sarcasm’s sharper than a joke,
In the verse their madness spoke.
This is how the world reflects —
Broken down, it hit the depths.

Rot before, now only slime —
One big pile, a frozen crime.

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

Traitors crawl, the fools comply —
All this world’s a stinking lie.

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

The Clock Is Ticking

Tick-tock, tick-tock — the world’s a bomb,
Drop the quarrels — fool, stay calm.

Inside the blast, there’s TNT,
Monsters armed with cruelty.

Fools devour lies like food,
Never full, they breed the mood.

Lies are just the bomb’s thin shell,
Time runs out — no place to dwell.

Soon will come the final mark,
Darkness swallowing the spark.

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

Lies are fuel, and fools run blind —
Countdown’s done, no more time.

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

Time’s Fatigue

Tick and Tock have worn out ticking—
Time itself is running thin.
Speech is tired, just meme-clicking,
Chaos set to crash and spin.

When all breaks down, it’s entropy—
That is death’s relentless breath.
Sing the songs you left incomplete—
Soon will shake the Earth beneath.

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

Time is bleeding, tick and break —
Death arrives with each quake.

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

“Climbers”

Bound by lies like twisted ropes,
We’ve all become “the climbers” folks.
Everest of lies so vast —
Climb with them, or cut down fast.

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

Lies bind tight — no room to choose.
Climb their peak, or get abused.

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

Phantasmagoria

Editors like tractors grind,
Crushing fresh and new each time.
Like strange attractors blind,
Talents fade through years’ long climb.

Into the world, through chaos’ press,
They tried to bring a spark of light.
No voice was theirs — they'd only stress
The “common nonsense” of the night.

Only few could read the game,
Heard Aesop’s whisper in the haze —
Sprouts survive amid the shame,
Growing through the tangled maze.

But tractors crush those tender shoots,
Fascism’s rule is plain and stark.
Simple factors, cold pursuits —
Dehumanized, devoid of heart.

It’s time for stories to conclude,
Their ending dark, obscene, profane.
Rot festers in this phantasm, crude —
Where NEW is doomed to break in vain.

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

Tractors crush the new and bright,
Fascism’s grip denies the light.

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

Involution

Swift’s great house lies torn apart —
Who needs it now? The rabble’s heart
Prefers a world where lies are king,
Soulless scum that poison spring.

They feed and breed, they drag us down,
This realm into a burning drown.
Monsters rule, all crude and vile,
They want a slave with broken smile.

Involution’s raging deep —
Wisdom’s rare, and honor’s cheap.
In the blaze of falsehood’s fire,
Truth’s a scarce, exhausted pyre.

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

House of Swift is torn and dead —
Lies and scum now rule instead.

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

So-Called "Rational Mankind," or The Endgame

Reason?! Only sarcasm fits—
Man’s a plague that must be hit!
Light is stronger—Sun will save
Earth by burning all to grave.

What of those not stupid, then?
That’s a question hard for men.
In a world where Spirit gleams,
At the end of days and dreams,

Few will stand — the “Overkind.”
This is real, not just in mind.
There’s a path that leads on high,
Beyond the chaos, past the lie.

And to depths of Hell and Hate—
Fools will fall to their cruel fate.
So the final curtain’s drawn:
This is how the game is gone.

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

Reason’s dead — plague stays to rot.
Sun will scorch the idiot’s spot.

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

Respect to Pol Pot, praise on high!
To the New—hail, bow low, comply!
March ahead, the herd obedient,
Slay the foes who doubt the gradient.

Faces sharp, genocide’s disguise,
With fascism in centuries’ ties.
Once called “communism” — a farce,
Deceit’s the trap to break the sparse.

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

Pol Pot’s shadow, dark and deep,
New lies herd, no time for sleep.
Kill the doubters, crush the weak,
Truth’s dead tongue—no one can speak.

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

Don’t let your life end tragically—
No poet’s needed where
Lies, fear, and madness spin cyclically.
When will you shout, “Not there!”?

To all this cruel dementia,
You’ll hear but cold “Get gone!”
For cunning bastards’ conscience
Is haunted by their wrong.

No rescue comes, no turning—
You’re lost, as if you’re naught:
What’s left to shoot? You drag behind
The madness they have wrought.

It grows more fierce, relentless—
The world’s lost all its mind.
Fascism’s gloom, relentless,
A plague for all mankind.

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

Don’t end your life in tragic shame —
Scream “No!” and break the devil’s game.
Madness spreads, the plague is near —
Fight the lies, refuse the fear!

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

The Motherland hears,
The Motherland knows —
That people like mice
Lie, fail, impose.

That traitors rule fools,
Doctors punish with spite,
Darkness enslaves all,
Dulls every light.

It’s poisoned the whole,
Made all minds blind,
Souls killed in their chains —
Here’s where we find...

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

“Director of Himself”...

Carve wooden blocks, make puppets,
Record the nonsense line —
Surround yourself with shadows,
Call them “close” and fine.

But those who stand beside you,
Hardly differ at all:
Strings pulled by wicked demons,
Satan’s grand hall.

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

Idiots feast on endless lies —
Spewing madness, vile and stark.
Where’s the country? Just disguise:
Decay, the stench within the dark.

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

Original Sin

Illusions forced upon us,
From childhood all made numb.
With lies they cloak the surface —
Free thought they’ve struck down, dumb.

Only in the rarest hearts
Burns a reason pure, untamed.
Lies like sarin poison starts —
This first sin bears the blame.

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

Original Sin

They planted lies inside our minds,
From youth they crushed all sense.
With falsehoods twisted all the signs —
Killed thought, made dull, immense.

Only few still hold the flame —
Reason clear, untouched by lies.
But poison gas of falsehood’s claim
Is that first sin that never dies.

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

Nonsense and Heresy

Nonsense, heresy — heresy, nonsense —
How to break through to the soul’s defense?
Nonsense serves to cloud the mind,
Drag it down, sink deep, confined.

An ocean of lies above you swells,
No barrier — deception dwells.
Followed by madness, wild and grim,
In nonsense’ grip, the lights grow dim.

Madness too is ocean vast —
Nonsense, madness — shadows cast.
The master knows how lies increase,
His sentence: kill with falsehood’s lease.

Lies will be the weapons made —
Nonsense harsher, sharp as blade,
To hold all lies of fiendish breed,
The devil’s spawn in darkest deed.

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

Endorphin “Heaven”

Vitamins, endorphins —
Runner’s high, a kind of rush,
But hypersensitive, not a beast,
In feelings we’re given much.

It’s tricky — the “crash” returns,
The “withdrawal” after the thrill,
Yet grip of wild neuroses
Starts to weaken, fade, and still.

Those neuroses summon beasts —
If not a neurotic, then a fool.
The tyrants’ power only grows,
Draining strength from the sensitive pool.

But strength can be reclaimed —
Heal your nerves with running’s pace.
At first it’s hard — but once you’re warmed,
You’ll leap like an elk through space!

But don’t overdo — too far, too fast,
Body’s wisdom must engage.
Stay in bliss, embrace the flow —
Endorphin’s “heaven” lights the stage.

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

The Reapers

Pathetic bastards,
Reapers of total lies,
Dumb as wooden blocks —
To Darkness they baptize.

Used to bowing down
To any fool’s command,
So here madness lingers —
Shame spreads across the land.

The cuckoo’s still crazier —
Madness grows inside,
More brazen is the falsehood,
A sickness none can hide.

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

In this foul pit, lies will thrive,
Darkness feeds on fear alive.
Everything’s drowned deep in black—
One true way remains: BURN IT BACK!

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

In this cesspit, lies run wild,
Fear and darkness choke the child.
All is lost, the world’s ablaze—
Only one way: BURN THE HAZE!

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

This "world" is nothing — pure disgrace,
Beasts rule tight with fear’s embrace:
Lies, pressure, stench from media’s pit,
Where morals rot and fires spit.

In this state of bestial grime,
We drag the world to waste and time,
And so the ugliness extends,
A reign of filth that never ends.

More filth, more hate, a ceaseless blight —
A hellish void, no end in sight.
This kingdom’s nothing, dark and cold —
A soulless pit where lies take hold.

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

Pitiful minds,
Under lies' harsh crush,
Poisoned books,
Mirages rush.

Those mirages shove—
World’s brazen stink,
More fools each day,
More slaves to drink.

Few are beasts —
Spirits barely count,
It’s vile and sick —
Burn the madhouse out!

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

The Party of Condoms —
Everywhere, all the time.
Fools parade in their columns,
Spreading heresy’s crime.

Often one big cash pot,
Though platforms clash and fight.
The masses blindly believe —
’Cause most are fools outright.

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

Pathetic roads, a foolish plan,
Keep moving—just a little more.
The final stop for any man—
Is Hell itself, its fiery door.

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

Globalization or just greed’s station?
Both are one — a sick fusion.
The whole world reeks of contamination —
Media howls from the bottom’s illusion.

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

Original Sin

They fed us illusions, trapped in lies,
Since childhood blinded, dulled our eyes.
All thoughts of freedom cast aside—
That pure free mind was killed inside.

Yet in the few a spark still gleams—
A mind unchained, untouched by schemes.
But lies like sarin spread their breath—
This only sin, the primal death.

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

The Lie of the Global Zoo

A zoo’s a balm to dead men’s ears —
A “blessed news” that numbs our fears.
Neither cold nor burning heat,
Yet violence and vengeful cheat.

Catastrophes, terror's reign —
All the stench must feed the pain.
For the world’s fascist regime,
Fear’s the crown, the final gleam.

They’ll amplify, then sum it all—
Reason, Spirit, Honor fall.
What remains, they’ll crush and smite,
Beasts’ weapon forged in night.

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

Sheep and Fools, Just Sheep and Fools

Sheep and fools, pure fools and sheep—
Where are humans? Where’s the mind?
But all around is lies so deep,
Rot spreads out, no hope to find.

Seems like humans lie in graves,
Buried ‘neath this world’s decay.

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

Life’s Affair — A Worm at Wake

Life’s affair — a worm at wake,
A funeral for Mind’s last breath.
Come on, Sun, bright flare and break,
Bring death down to all filth and death!

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Правильный мирок

"Правильно жить" означает лицемерие, "правильно думать" — глупость".
Бертран Рассел.

"Правильный" — в нём правила:
Глупости шаблон.
"Родина" заставила
Под личиной вон

Истинную сущность
Из себя изгнать
Иль сгнобить. Бездушность,
Тупость: жрать, мечтать,

Подчиняться мразям —
Общим местом тут.
Больше безобразий
И наглее врут

С каждым годом — главным
Правилом мирка.
Сгинет он бесславно —
Доля дурака.

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

Гуттаперчевые люди,
Инволюция => на блюде
Слизни: ТВАРИ жрут гаввах,
Говоря "Велел аллах

Подчиняться, в бога верить,
Прыткость в думаньи умерить —
Все ответы в книгах сыщешь"...
Это блюдо — Ада Днище.

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

"Воспитанье" — Лот Привычек
Обретаешь, чтя обычай,
Что в гнилом мирке Дерзать —
Только шишки набивать.

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

Стадность

Самоуверенность тупости,
Плюс несказанная жадность,
При легковерии, трусости, —
Так формируется стадность.

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

Убийство Разума

"Многознание уму не научает".
Гераклит.

Не научает — убивает
Зачатки Разума в тебе:
Нарочно память нагружают,
Растя безумие в рабе.

И перегрузка вместе с ложью,
Что сплошь в Зла "знаниях" сидит,
Затмит всё Главное, и что понять несложно.
А страхом будет ум добит.

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

"Наслаждайтесь!" — широко распространённое пожелание перед едой...

Даже кошки без ласки
Не полюбят кормёжку.
Ресторан: словно в сказке
Для двуногой не-Кошки.

Кто животное здесь,
Ещё надо помыслить:
Соскоблить гонор, спесь,
Чушь и ложь — словно дым коромыслом,

То получим итог,
Называть что не будем.
"Человек словно бог" —
Бог Рогатый — ПАСКУДЕН.

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

Бесхребетность в тучах бреда,
Бред убогий мировой, —
Это нелюди победа.
Мало дружат с головой

И имеют Духа стержень.
Оных меньше с каждым днём —
И не будет мир как прежде:
Скоро все в нём догниём.

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

Самостоятельное исследование

"Все исследуй, давай разуму первое место".
Пифагор, VI-ой век до н.э.

Всё исследуй, но под Духом
Будет Разум пусть всегда.
Углубляться в "знанья" глупо —
Лжи навалом: господа,

Те что правят миром, знают
Толк в обманах, потому
Лженауки нагибают
Через деньги и ЦУ.

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

В Тьме Ада

"Иногда ночь бывает слишком темна, чтобы ее заметить".
Станислав Ежи Лец.

Крот слепой ползёт ходами,
Собирая с поля дань.
В Тьме, с такими ж дураками,
Ложь обрящешь — Ада срань.

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

Утопание во Лжи

Гонят —
Тонем.
Гонят Ложь:
Как тошнит от этих рож!..

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

Не верь глазам — шаблон замылил
Твой взгляд на мир, что сплошь дебилий.
Критичность, смелость, интуицию
Не подключишь — айда в Стагнацию.

Дебилий мир, страна Стагнация
В нём есть — там Духа профанация,
Хотя шажочек от дебила,
Но Суть познать не вдоволь силы.

Под Духом ум, вся жизнь в Твореньи —
Лишь так избегнешь разложенья,
Забудешь также про стагнацию
И Зла чрез Ложь ассимиляцию.

Ассимиляция в дебиле
Достигла пика — нацепили
Намордники в года говнида.
Мирок смешон: убоги гниды...

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

"Любвеобильные" лицемеры

"Любви полно": кругом дебилы
И Тьма прибр`ала мир к рукам.
Но улыбаются так мило,
Точа "елей", давая волю и слезам.

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Исчезновение мира в кошмаре

"У бодрствующих один, общий мир, а спящие отворачиваются каждый в свой собственный".
Гераклит.

Мир исчезает: бдящих мало,
А "сладкий" сон или кошмар,
В который словно в сеть попала
Душа, повален — то судьба лошар.

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

"Да" и "нет"...
"Да", коль Бред,
Что "нормальный" — мировой.
"Нет" оставит слабый след —
Кто не болен головой,
Может быть, пойдёт туда —
В Путь Напрасный: днесь Страда.
Урожай сбирает Ад.
Тщетный Тракт — тогда не гад:
Если "польза" — польза Аду,
Но "успехам" гады рады.

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

Синергия терпил

"Общие невзгоды переносятся с большим терпением, чем отдельные".
Никколо Макиавелли.

Терпилы множат силы,
Коль терпят _Зло гуртом,
Да так, что станет _мило,
Пусть _делает скотом.

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

Хомяк и крот считают, сокол,
Что удалился в точку, плут,
Ведь на Земле не очень плохо,
А птицы все про Небо врут.

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Высоты и низины

"Чем выше мы поднимаемся, тем меньше и ничтожнее кажемся тем, кто не может взлететь".
Фридрих Ницше.

Летать как пасть в глазах убожеств:
Коль мылишь ясно — враг всем чмо;
Творец — безумец средь художеств;
Духовный Путь дурью ярмо.

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

The hollow weight of this pathetic earth —
It rots within, a joke devoid of worth.
A "two-in-one": free cheese and pitch-black lies,
With maggots squirming where the truth once dies.

It’s full of holes — collapse is drawing near,
Deserved decay, corruption crystal-clear.
Not just poor taste — it's worse than one could dream:
This CONSUMER shames the cosmic scheme.

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

Flowers of Evil

"The city's coming, surely.
The garden soon will bloom..."
But when the scum rule poorly,
You harvest steel and doom.

The scum have built before us —
The Soviets made their bed.
Now new betrayers swarm us,
Like Judas, born and bred.

They’ll plant their seeds and gather
A camp — for human clay.
But now they lie and slather
Without a hint of shame.

With CowID came the slaughters,
Then war — their great delight.
To sink us in black waters
Takes lies, not even might.

And at the sunken station,
They’ll raise their camp once more —
Red cross of degradation,
And dumbness by the score.

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

Corruption as Core

Corruption crowned as greatness —
That’s what this world adores.
While mind and truth and straightness
Are crimes it now abhors!

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

Corruption reigns —
And courage chains.

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

The "Yum-Yum" Herd

The "Yum-Yum" herd is easy to erase —
Just dress a Goat in fleece and twist the phrase.
He screams out "Wolves!" while grinning through the lie,
As bloated beasts keep feeding till they die.

Their “minds” are wrecked — it’s fear and fake control.
With lies and dread, you dominate the whole.
Goats proved it well with fake CowID crusades —
This world now chokes in shame the cosmos hates.

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

Lies

Degenerates, decay, disgrace —
Behold the "new world" in your face.
Lies are money, bold and bare —
Truth can’t even breathe the air.

Lies now rule the power game,
Lies alone will bring you fame.
Lie a lot — you’ll rise, you’ll thrive.
Tell the truth? You won't survive.

If you don’t lie — down you go.
This world’s a sewage pit below:
The bigger the turd, the higher the seat —
The filth floats up. That's their elite.

The pressure builds — pure lies, pure stench,
A nonstop stream from every trench.
Not a day without that spray —
It grows. It floods. No plug, no way.

With no more clogs, the filth now flows
Above our heads, it overthrows.
Now EVERYONE has hit the floor —
And this rock bottom? There’s no more.

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

The Worship of Mammon

Forget all nature, truth, or sense —
Mammon now earns reverence.
Refuse to cheat, refuse to steal?
The beasts will call you weak — not real.

The scum all bow to Mammon's name,
Their god of greed, their holy flame.
What rules the world? Just cash and lies —
In megatons, beneath gold skies.

No truth remains — just fraud and fog:
Behold the Throne of Lies — their goddamn log.

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

Stupidity and Sloth

Sloth and dumbness.
Dumb and slack.
And again! Again!! Attack!!!
All it breeds is rot and shame —
A world disgraced, a crawling flame.

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

Sloth! Stupidity! Encore!
That’s the rot they all adore.

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

Stupidity’s Old Game

Dumbing down is nothing new —
Idiots made, that’s all they do!
Once the pen, now cameras choke,
Spewing filth with every stroke.

For the masses, "info" lies,
"Education" — foul disguise.
Only few still guard their mind,
While the herd goes dumb and blind.

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

More Insight

More insight, less “thought” —
Other minds’ nonsense caught
Feeds decay — rot’s embrace,
This world’s logic’s fallen face.

Logic reigns — the world’s in dust,
Scum sow lies and fear and lust.
They preach their rule, they cast their spell,
While media breaks the mind to hell.

But heart is insight’s spark,
Mind’s decay is cold and dark.
Heart and mind in strict command —
That’s salvation’s final stand.

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

Doubt Means Enemy

Who doubts is always labeled foe —
That’s how all lousy “-isms” grow.
Built on lies, a twisted scheme,
Communism’s no rare extreme.

Each “-ism” hides a fascist core,
Murder’s second layer, more and more.
At base it’s pure idiocy —
Human scum, a travesty.

It’s all around, the bottom line,
And soon we’ll burn this cursed spine.
But not by “-ism” shall it end —
Some other fate will break and mend.

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

The Earth’s Disgrace

Man who babbles,
Wildly patient,
Is he truly wise?
Among the evil,
Dull and complacent...
He’s the Earth’s disgrace — no lies!

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

The Weight of False Knowledge

The weight of learned lies drags down,
Or pulls you to a sinking ground.
But once you ditch that nonsense whole,
You’ll find relief for body, soul.

That rubbish haunts — a second pit,
Where sharpness dies, where senses quit.
By day and night it weighs you down,
A plague of “sciences” that drown.

These ticks have latched, they cling and suck,
So cleanse yourself — get free, get struck
By truth instead — break off those chains,
And leave behind their pointless pains.

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

The Zoo

From birth you get your "gifts" in heaps,
All useless, like dead men’s keeps.
Consciousness lost, a vacant shell —
For many, fools who sink and dwell.

The mass is dumb, the schizoid’s might,
A fascist stronghold, ruling blight.
They pour their filth with force extreme,
A torrent drowning every dream.

This pressure sweeps the soul away,
A sentence passed we bear today.
From birth you got these "gifts" galore —
Throw them out! They’re zoo fodder, poor.

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

The Global Pleasure Grinder

They grind their taste buds day and night —
The “elite” in sellout’s spite.
Hours spent in fancy halls,
Is this elite, or just their thralls?

The world’s drowned deep in murky slime,
That rotten realm drags us in time.
Honest, brave — a rarity,
But Grinding Pleasure’s law we see.

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

Dumb Boxer in a False Fury

In welterweight, a dumb brute fights —
“Average” heights provoke his sights.
His vision’s clouded, lost in haze,
From many blows that blur his gaze.

The ring’s soaked deep in raging lies,
You didn’t walk — you fought for prize.
Evil set the trap in youth,
Hooked you in with stolen truth.

Run off the ring before they strike,
An uppercut, a swinging pike.
Lies punch hard, they never quit —
Total falsehood’s brutal hit.

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

Average Temperature in the Asylum

The fever’s rising through the ward —
From here comes pain you can’t afford.
A nightmare haunts us all in sleep,
But waking’s hell — too dark, too deep.

Is this a mental ward? It snores,
Farts stink, it breathes foul stench outdoors.
A madhouse? No — it’s no delusion,
Call it what’s true: a place of Ruin.

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

Tedious,
Nasty, vile.
Is it hard?
No — just hostile.
Dull and poor,
Sickening, sore.
How wretched all,
So base, so small...
No god here?
Is He dead?
Or never near?
Or mad instead?
Evil reigns —
The final thread.

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

Europe

Is it rotting, burning bright,
Scorched beneath the furious light?
Few can grasp the whole truth clear —
Dulling minds grow year by year.

Once, kids painted suns in red,
Yellow rays above their head.
Now the sun’s a pale white ghost —
Last days come for all the lost.

And the dead here crowd the skies,
Chaos calls — to dust, all flies.
Those alive, with souls not mice,
Soon will stand before the vice.

After death, a rising flame —
New world where the Spirit claims.
Before the end, resist they must —
This alone remains in trust.

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

Ambitions, "Honor"

Ambitions, “honor,”
Desires, striving,
Positions, pride—
Claims colliding.

Around, there’s empty space—
Hands drop down low.
But not just giving place—
They break from boredom’s blow.

There’s only one way through,
One feat to own:
Deceive your fate,
Keep moving on.

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

Analyzing Your Failures

To analyze your fails is key—
Only then can flight begin.
In this bleak, corrupt debris,
Fools repeat the same old sin.

They step again on traps well-known,
So sort your own, and others’ too.
Or else your sharpness turns to stone—
Without it, madness breaks through.

The mind becomes a plague instead,
Deceived on every side and bent,
Fear drives beasts to wars they dread,
Dumb sheep to slaughter, blindly sent.

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

Maximum Intensity

The plague of this wretched world
Will kill — no chance, always so:
Your consciousness raw and uncurled,
Intensity almost too low.

Intensity plus reason’s strain,
Years long, all else just a haze —
The only way to break the chain:
Beneath the crust, the horror stays.

Only few can bear this weight;
Chance is fickle, many fall—
Like seabirds lost to oil’s fate,
Trapped within the toxic sprawl.

The plague of this broken sphere
Spreads like oil across the ground.
Free cheese from oil they engineer—
We’re taught to suffer, chained and bound.

Evil trains us from the start,
Calling it good as it grows.
Intensity’s the sole true art
To keep us from becoming those.

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

Another Road to Another "Bright Future"

Another road
To "future"—so hollow!
Got a headache?
A quick escape to follow!

The herd, they’ll bait —
That’s how they control.
A fool like a mule,
With blinders on patrol.

A veil across the eyes,
A carrot just ahead.
The future’s a lie —
New blinders instead.

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

Bullshit

Annoying filth of a mad, insane world —
“Shield yourself,” or in shit you’ll drown and twirl.
Your mind may be lonely, cold, and bare,
But in that crap you’re a louse or parasite rare.

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

Crapworld

Shield — or drown in filth and lies.
Stay sane — or be the bugs they prize.

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

The Murder of Mind

"Much learning does not teach understanding."
— Heraclitus

It doesn’t teach — it kills instead,
Chokes reason’s roots inside your head.
They cram your memory by force
To breed a slave’s insane discourse.

The overload, combined with lies
(Where evil's "knowledge" always hides),
Will blur what’s simple, clear, and true —
Then fear will break the rest of you.

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

Herd Instinct

The arrogance of fools so bold,
Unbridled greed you cannot quell,
With blind faith and hearts grown cold,
And cowardice — the herd’s own hell.

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

The Proper Little World

(Based on Bertrand Russell's quote: “To live right means hypocrisy; to think right — stupidity.”)

"Proper" means obeying
Rules that rot the mind —
Templates for betraying
Truth you've left behind.

"Motherland" compels you,
Masked in noble cause,
To suppress what's real in you
By its savage laws.

Soulless, dull compliance,
Dream, consume, obey —
Bow to those in triumph
Wallowing in decay.

Each year grows more twisted,
Lies more bold and loud.
That world — rule-enlisted —
Will die without a shroud.

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

How Long Will We Moo “How Long!”
(While swallowing filth with a grin…)

How long will we moo out “How long!”
Yet swallow this vile little game?
In this pathetic life-singalong,
Only Death will untangle the shame.

She’ll draw the last line, mark the coward,
The soul that stayed true — and the fraud.
The end’s not far off: life’s devoured
By madness… The flames now applaud.

For the Sun — growing wilder, more searing —
Will burn what was bright to the bone.
Just look out the window: it’s clearing…
By morning, you’ll see what’s been shown.

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

How long, you cattle, will you moo —
Yet lick the boots that trample you?

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

“Cognitive” Onanism

So much clutter, distraction, deceit —
A circus of facts, all devoid of the core.
Where cretinous chatter and buzzwords compete,
They fog up the mind ever more.

Fake science keeps silence where truth should ignite:
You are spirit — a flame, not a shell.
But smothered in trivia, buried in blight,
The essence gets lost in their hell.

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

They teach you the fog, not the flame —
Forget who you are. That’s their game.

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

"Upbringing" — a pile of habits,
Rituals wrapped in moral jackets.
In this rotten world, to dare
Just means bumps and blank despair.

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

Dare to rise? You’ll just get bruised —
That's how slaves are mass-produced.

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

Gutta-percha men,
Involution served on plates,
Slugs devour filth and lies,
Chanting "Allah’s will dictates."

“Submit, believe in God,
And curb your restless mind —
All answers lie within the books,”
A dish from Hell defined.

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

Prince of This World

A hot-dog god,
A king "two in one,"
Harsh and cold,
The madhouse’s son.

The madhouse devours —
Shit and lies.
— Like cattle, folks? —
Multiply fear, despise.

He’s master of lies,
In masks, he’s skilled.
To serve him is
Shame — a cursed kill.

The cursed kill comes —
Grab the cash flow!
— How to be cattle? —
Accept the lies, the woe.

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

Doclets — Mengele Nervously Smokes

Here’s the CowID scum —
No shame runs deeper.
Fake AIDS warm-up —
Tolerance to the creeper.

Next come the pests,
All kinds of plagues,
They’ll take it all — CowID
Seems bliss in their cages.

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

The Poet Sometimes Raves

The poet sometimes runs with nonsense —
The rhyme leads far off track.
If choking in the stench around you,
A touch of madness won’t crack.

In madness, all the world’s absurd,
When total idiot’s reign
Becomes the norm, and wicked times
Are measured by Satan’s stain.

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

“A Hard Nut of Knowledge”?

A schnitzel of "knowledge," laced with lies,
You eat the poison deep inside —
You're just a pawn where hatred flies,
Where vile beasts breed and multiply.

The mind’s a nut that takes a blow,
From heavy lies it cracks and breaks.
The more you “know,” the more you owe —
For love’s a thing your heart forsakes.

Simplicity with peasant’s mind,
And vision born within the heart —
Unlike the “knowledge” of the blind,
Is what makes love a true art.

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

Total Madness and the Poet

To die a poet—
No greater bliss,
Than not to bow
To all the abyss,
To leave a mark
With furious fire,
Though nerves may snap,
And earth conspire—
If burden not,
Then truth was sired!

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

The Pit

If the Creator’s plan for you
Is just a pit to bear,
Enduring evil’s nothing new—
It’s death of spirit there.

It cuts down all who climb the peak,
As ever has been so—
No contrast now, the truth is bleak:
“Up top” is just pure woe.

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

Victory of the Scum

Thanks to comrade Gates, they say,
For childhood “bright” and free—
The computer took the throne today,
For plebs, a tool to be.

Before, a tool, but now it’s just
One endless app to scroll.
You live like in a desert dust,
Where lifeless breezes roll.

Doubtful versions sweep away
All sense with stupid fights.
They turn us all to fools each day,
Only “Classmates” hold tight.

True talks are rare—your neighbor’s face
Unknown in concrete cells.
Consciousness lost, the scum’s embrace
Strikes hard; it casts its spells.

The last of spirit, mind, and light
Shrinks down, then fades unseen.
Only nonsense reaches sight—
The scum has won, obscene.

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

So-Called "Culture"

A stake of aspen in pseudo-culture’s chest,
Drive it deep and walk on light, at best:
A foolish loser buys the shallow fake—
That “culture” stands on fools who take.

True Spirit’s daring, reaching for the Light,
The soul’s own pulse, its genuine fight.
But in that broke, pretend charade,
No answer lives—just empty parade.

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

Themes

Memes serve up their shallow themes —
A challenge to dull all minds, it seems:
With nonsense, they decay the wise,
In memes, the spawn of lies arise.

Expose the false, the half-truth’s shade,
Bring light where darkness tries to fade.
Or we’ll be lost — no time to stall,
Strike down the lies — or lose it all!

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

Pol Pot, Hitler, and Putler

Pol Pot’s sweat earned him a role—
A freakish camp to rule the whole,
A country sized like prison walls,
Where terror grips and silence falls.

No need for camps — it’s all the same:
Wherever rage fuels fiendish game,
They spill the blood, the leader’s throne—
Don’t touch the smartest one alone!

The master helm who leads ahead,
Crushing all who dare to tread.
All dissenters — dealt away,
Lost beneath the shadow’s sway.

And Putler, double-faced and sly,
A runt before the great gone by.
He topped even Hitler’s hell,
Built a nightmare none can quell.

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

The Boredom of the Global Herd

Boredom’s not a beauty’s face—
It’s a sign of drained-out grace.
When you’re penned like common stock,
And that pen’s a messy block,

You can fade away, run dry
In anything — they’ll suck you dry.
All your strength the beasts will drain,
Then beat you down to break your strain.

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

Cheaters and Murra

The bastards deal the crooked hands —
Cheaters always hold command.
They must win, no room for shame,
This world’s a ruthless, dirty game.

If you’re not a cheat, you’re low,
But what’s “top”? Just scraps that flow—
Like a sludge pit, stinking, vile.
“Two-in-one” spray fools with style—
Thousands bask in foul perfume,
Calling stench a scent’s costume.

Propaganda’s lying howl?
No—it’s news, a sickly growl.
Murra rots in every crack—
That’s your “progress,” face the fact!
Cast out doubt in cheats’ domain—
And they’ll lie with brazen strain...

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

We Are Ours, We Build the New... Madness

"We are ours, we build a new world..."
The anthem cries, “International!”

The impossible becomes real,
While what’s real’s a crazy deal:
Hard to grasp, but clear as gas—
Total lies that poison fast.

In this killer’s suffocating grip,
Truth and mind begin to slip.
A half-dead soul must face the crowd—
The New Madness shouts aloud:
New #FuckedUp End, fierce and proud...

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

The Race’s End

Monotony of shallow thrills,
The vulgar chase for cash and fame—
The scum who lose the roots and wills,
Forget the heart, obey the brain.

The mind, once servant, breaks its chains,
And falls to ruin, lost, abused.
Forgetfulness in lies remains—
The fate of generations fused.

A rotten world, caught in the race,
The finish line—a deathly prize.
Blind liars mix the peak and base,
Confused beneath deceivers’ lies.

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

The Eternal and the Human

Too little of the ETERNAL —
Too much of just the human.
This gnome’s a fleeting signal,
A joke, a mere buffoon.

His mind is small and empty —
Books shallow, plain and cheap;
Lies flood the world aplenty,
Where souls are lost, not deep.

But if the soul’s not vanished —
Through pain breaks into Light,
Through lies and rot, unbanished —
Screw doubts! Embrace the fight!

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

A Clamp for Fools

A clamp? — just a clip!
Truth? — a lie so thick!
All’s absurd:
Malice, fear, a dirty trick.

Lies that bind? —
How’s that fit?
Fear turns souls
To creatures unfit.

Lies on fear —
The whole damn clamp:
Russia’s crushed,
In dust and stamp.

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

All the Content of "Normal" Mind Is Clinical Madness

Clinical madness —
The core of "mind" they say.
What’s the real answer? —
Cast false knowledge away,
And journey inward —
Toward the Spirit’s bright light.
No other path here —
None left in sight.

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

A tough and fearsome task it is —
Not to be the beast that sways and squats.
If you’re a bee that flits on roses,
Those roses face eternal threats and losses.

The roses trampled — that’s no surprise:
The fragile, pure here doomed to die.
Grow thicker skin, let tusks arise —
Be the world’s elephant, strong and wise.

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

Fucked-Up State

Tubercular thoughts decay,
Words spew out like vomit’s spray:
Around no humans — just mere sums,
And in your head, the nonsense drums.

From vile, total lies you choke,
No other choice but silent smoke.
If you’re smart, bold, true, and free —
Don’t lose your mind in misery.

‘Cause freaking out is way too late —
The world’s a wreck, it’s lost its fate.
On the horizon, grim and tense,
Fucked-up state raises its hand immense...

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

People?

Look around. Are those all humans?
Or just Satan’s icon pack?
Is that food or demon’s cumin —
Hell’s meat platter? Dreams go black.

Darkness, madness — that’s their "thinking",
Or is Purest Mind in there?
Are they sheep for slaughter, shrinking?
Or are humans really where

Shame is branded as “freedom,”
Truth replaced with crafted lies,
Mutant freaks that serve the system
Guard “Constitutions” in disguise.

Freedom is the space for making,
For the Pure-Souled to create.
Tyranny, though, strips and breaks 'em —
Turns them all to meat for plate.

Light is scarce. The Dark is swelling —
It’s a death mark for the Soul.
Breeds are raised through this dark spelling:
Dead ones wrapped in breathing role.

They have fouled and raped the Planet,
Murdered Nature, left a stain.
Only corpses hear the sonnets
Of the Lie — and most of it is death for brains.

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

Longing

Guts in bowls — the cats are glad.
Is that cure for feeling bad?
Don’t you dare suppress the gloom —
Only fools make grief their plume.

Aren’t you homesick down in Hell
With the crazed who think they’re well?
Few exceptions, few awake.
Madness here is no mistake.

Genocide, a centuries' art —
Mass-producing fools by heart.
Better call it: Slavery’s spawn,
Built on madness, bred since dawn.

That’s the scheme the beasts defend:
Dumb and silent to the end.
Counting chance, the poor blind throng
Sinks in numbness all along.

Grief and lies — how not to feel?
Guts in bowls — the feline meal —
Even cats have smarter wit
Than a SOLD-OUT IDIOT.

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

Foam — then fade:
Dull was the sire.
All betrayed —
The world’s a pyre...

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

EU — the Union of the Gut
Beer bellies sag, the minds are shut.
You fly right in — they weigh your worth:
Just raw supply, not soul or birth.

The “people” — cattle, bought and sold,
Their lives reduced to profit mold.
Above it all, the lying glaze —
Believe it once — you're lost for days.

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

Rotten lies, half-truths, and fiction —
That’s the mix of their “science” game.
End result? A fool’s submission
To the yoke of whores for fame.

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

Weird young fellow...
Dumb as wood.
Brain is jello,
Spirit — no good.

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

Selling Whores

They sell themselves without a fight —
So cheap, those filthy, crawling swine...
They think that death is out of sight,
And whoring seems to suit them fine.

They trade and stab without regret,
As if betrayal never ends.
But Human burns at sunset —
And Bedlam’s fire ascends.

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

Stop Your Hiding — Face the Hell
All around — it reeks, it fell.
Hourly lies through every screen —
End of this pathetic scene.

But your Soul is not for loss —
So rise up and bear your cross!
Only hear your inner flame —
All outside is filth and shame.

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

The Call of Poetry — a Fearsome Might.
If filth and comfort seem all right —
Then don’t you dare into those deeps:
The Path of Poetry is where Sorrow weeps.

Sorrow is ABSOLUTE — the rest is jest.
Stop bowing down to brute unrest.
Just DIE before you kneel to scum —
Just DON’T YOU LIE — Hell burns for some.

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

Stood by you? Not one...
What is it you seek?
Nothing. None. I'm done —
No more need to speak.

Nothing's left to crave —
I have walked through Hell.
Did that forge a knave?
No — I wrote it well.

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

I couldn’t care for this brave “horde” —
These fools who’d sell their souls for fraud,
Who treat betrayal as a sword,
And worship lies as some new god.

Go grab this “life” — go snatch your fate!
You’ll grasp a void. Your mind? — too late.
This path leads straight to what they crave:
A shiny car — to be their grave.

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

Angry Bear

That one? A “president” — a drunk, insane?
The Kremlin’s all just evil waste and stain.
If that’s the case — then we’re all doomed, no doubt...
The end is near, and there’s no way out.

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

“Unreasoning the Reasoned”

Un-reason those who thought they knew,
Break the spell of all this slime —
The nonsense born from lies anew,
Deceit of traitors, cruel crime.

A web of traps and staged deceit,
This world’s a scripted, staged charade.
The soul’s forever under heat,
While Satan’s half-god in the shade.

He writes the plot; the directors — scum,
Monsters hard to find or name.
The whole performance — deafening drum:
One trick — to scare, to lie, to maim.

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

“Love-Filled” Hypocrites

“Love abounds” — but fools surround,
And Darkness holds the world in chains.
Yet smiles so sweet, with grace profound,
Pour oil and tears to mask their stains.

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

The World’s Disappearance in Nightmare

"The waking share one common world,
The sleepers turn to their own fold."
— Heraclitus

The world dissolves — few stand awake,
While “sweet” dreams twist into a snare.
A nightmare traps the soul to break —
Its fallen fate, a fool’s despair.

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

Don’t Trust Your Eyes — The Pattern’s Blurred

Don’t trust your eyes — the mold has blurred
Your view of this dumb, dumb world absurd.
No courage, no sharp intuition —
Just march along to Stagnation’s prison.

A world of fools, a stagnant land,
Where spirit’s mocked by empty hands.
A fool’s small step can’t grasp the core,
No strength enough to seek for more.

Mind ruled by Spirit, life creates —
That’s how decay you’ll truly break.
Forget the stagnation’s curse,
And lies that spread their evil worse.

Assimilation’s reached its peak —
In fools, the chains they gladly seek.
Muzzles on through CowID years,
This world’s a joke — poor wretched peers.

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

“Evolution” of Fools

We don’t give damn — there’s plenty here,
Of sick fools clogged with empty cheer.
We’ll listen close if lies persist,
Relentless lies we can’t resist.

We’ll bow to lies, the box controls,
Feeding us junk, illusions’ roles.
Forever praise new petty tyrants,
In creatures rife with flaws, defiant.

We won’t perceive the chains we wear —
Our gaze on cash, the only care.
Gripped only by the lure of gold,
Buying babes and rides to hold.

No room for fools, they’re cast away —
New “selection” rules the play:
Fool turns cattle — that’s the way,
The age of dumb has its own sway.

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

So-called "Dictatorship of the Proletariat"?

Control and power by the masses —
Duller myth no one surpasses.
Dictatorship of lies insane,
Hidden plague, a filthy stain.

Like typhus, it infects the mind,
Lies disguised, the base you'll find.
Fools swoon fast on fairy tales,
While second depths command the hails.

Pol Pot once was “communist.”
Before him Hitler’s iron fist.
Now the double-faced Putler’s here,
Teaching fools to bow and sneer.

A lesson steeped in lies supreme,
No one learns from past’s harsh scheme.
The freak disturbs the crowds anew,
With poisoned ideas — always through.

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

The Price of Freedom

The price of freedom — cast aside
All else with courage, cast and wide.
No coin in pocket? Let it be,
But time remains for Path and Deed.

The Path is knowledge, Deed — the fire,
A creative, fierce desire.
All else is folly, vain and cold,
A twisted goal by liars told.

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

Not Quite a Poem

Not quite a poem —
The rage won’t cease:
A fleeting flash,
A tense release —

And then — prepared.
A simple grind...
The “catch”?
Just “GRAB AND GRIND!!!”

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

“Yes” and “No”...

“Yes,” if madness rules the world,
And “normal” means the curse.
“No” will leave a weaker swirl —
If sane, you might disperse,

Walk down that wasted road —
Where sorrow’s sown today,
Hell reaps its fiery load.
Don’t curse the futile way:

If “benefit” feeds Hell’s fire,
The scum will cheer success.

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

In Hell’s Dark

“Sometimes the night’s too dark to see.”
— Stanis;aw Jerzy Lec

A blind mole crawls the tunnels deep,
Collecting tribute from the field.
In darkness, with fools just as steep,
You find the lies that Hell concealed.

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

Heights and Depths

“The higher we ascend, the small
And worthless seem to those who fall.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche’s thought to all.

To fly’s a snare in fools’ dull eyes:
If clear you think — the enemy’s guise.
The Artist’s mad amid the arts,
The Spirit’s Path — a yoke for hearts.

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

Self Inquiry

"Examine all, let reason lead,"
— Pythagoras spoke long ago indeed.

Explore it all, but under Spirit’s reign,
Let Reason hold the foremost claim.
To dig too deep in “knowledge” — foolish game,
For lies abound, and all is not the same.

The rulers know the art of lies,
So falsehoods spread, and truth soon dies.
They twist the sciences with cash and might,
Commanding falsehoods, veiling light.

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

The hamster and the mole both think,
The falcon lost, a sneaky link,
That life on Earth’s not all that bad,
While birds above just lie, so sad.

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

Spineless fools in clouds of madness,
Worldly nonsense, pale and stark —
This is monsters’ cruel gladness,
Brains and spirit fade to dark.

Few remain with backbone’s fire,
Fewer still with spirit’s core,
World won’t be what once inspired —
Soon it rots forevermore.

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

Synergy of Sufferers

"Shared misfortunes bear more patience than those endured alone."
— Niccol; Machiavelli

The sufferers grow in number,
When Evil's faced as one.
Till pain becomes all tender,
And bestial deeds are done.

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

Once so much, now so little —
Nonsense fades, a vanishing riddle.
What’s not nonsense, time will show,
Only years can let us know.

For us? Just few remain
“Fit for duty,” birds in pain —
Like the Red Book’s vanished kind,
Knowing pain, the thoughtful mind.

They know all’s just nonsense here:
Not humans now, but herds appear.
Among them few feel out of place,
Only minds that dare embrace.

To believe and still create
In this bondage, cursed fate.
Rot grows like a tightening ball —
Soon this rotten madhouse falls.

Can’t endure this vile breath,
Better much to choose Death.

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

Tall tales gather all the likes —
Killing minds with twisted spikes.
New fascism steps in stride,
Breaking souls with fear inside.

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

Putler’s scum —
The reign of fake CowID’s done.
Now war rages — fools still buy
Every smoke-screen, every lie.

The source was called "The Butts,"
Long dead — yet the second batch trusts
Total lies once more, and swings
Wide the doors for fascist kings...

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

Karachun, old grump, to you won’t come —
Too many moons have passed, it's done.
Where is that spiteful little fiend?
Only boredom now is seen...

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

A minefield lies within the mind —
Deceitful charges placed all round.
The chances not to step — so slim,
The schematics tightly wound.

Only scum could dare to make
These traps that lie beneath the ground.
The herd grazes dumb and fake,
Among the grass, uncut, unbound.

The grass hides every single mine —
A “peaceful” pasture, so it seems.
Painted scenes with oil and line,
As if it’s not a war of dreams...

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

Comparison of Greco-Roman Wrestling and Marathon

Teens’ pillow fight — just warm-up, a test,
Before the marathon’s true quest.
I’ve faced them both — it’s not a lark,
To run that race is hell and dark!

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

Cogs and Mechanism

A tiny screw is tightly turned—
You’ll never loosen what’s well burned:
It feels no pain, no woe, no loss—
The mechanism wins, the boss.

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

Mountain Practice
(an ironic verse)

From burrow up the hill you crawl,
Seek truth and light beyond the wall.
Tremble only before the bright—
The hamster’s lost, no sign of sight.

That burrow’s home to that small beast,
Whose lies and madness never ceased.
Beaten down by endless lies,
A swamp of falsehoods, dark disguise.

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

The Privileged

The privileged — what a joke:
They boast, but what’s their claim?
Their wealth, their endless bloat —
Few have a worthy aim.

Daddy’s sons are mostly scum,
As usual, every time.
In this world, the subtle hum
Is trapped in endless grime.

The brazen always climb
Right up to highest place.
The privileged only dream,
A hollow rotten case.

There’s always exceptions, sure,
But these aren’t what I write.
When rot is all you endure,
The top’s to blame outright.

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

Step by Step. To the Reichstag
Or will you fall into the abyss?
Arm yourself with fearless grit:
If not the pit — you’re sure to miss!

To live small-world is suicide.
To die — and rise again, there’s chance.
Forget all speeches, pomp, and pride —
In Bedlam, only Honor stands!

Death will rank us all in lines.
Reverse the order, watch it clear:
Those who swim in lies and fat —
Are last, far off, in utter fear.

A stranger shows up in the distance,
With a name that cuts like steel:
“F#ckup” — world-wide consequence.
This small world’s doom is real.

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

Super Sport

Bullshitters rule the football game,
Less cash, less players, fans the same.
Shots of lies suppress the fools —
In this sport, propaganda rules.

Top league filled with perfect liars,
Politicians—first-class buyers.
Not a gang, but highest tier,
Goals scored well, the crowd will cheer.

The rigged machine runs like a clock,
Now more than ever, it’s a shock:
Everywhere dull fascists rise —
This sport’s just lies behind the guise.

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

Mass-Produced Prison

Mass-market prison, trap of waste—
Consumers stuck in shit misplaced.
Can’t pull them off, no quick escape,
Only root them out, reshape.

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

The Angry Bear and the Russian Asylum

The Angry Bear left marks behind —
Shameful traces, raw, unkind.
Spewed such wild, insane disgrace,
That the whole Asylum stared in face.

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

Partly Not Partly...

Partly it’s a blessing,
That it’s not all a blessing—
Partly… Not a curse, confessing—
This world’s a Hell’s own dressing.

Will it choke or will it swallow?
Choke it will, not partly, hollow—
Whole and full, then it will follow,
A new world born, new joys to wallow.

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

Solar Apocalypse

"Children of the underground" —
The future’s dark for those who’ve found
A chance to save their fading breath.
That “captain” just spins nonsense,
Spewing cow farts, dense pretense,
Everywhere the CEO’s death.

These tales are old, the lies abound,
Your head will swell, the dumb surround.
This widespread plague of empty minds
Leaves all in shock, it binds and blinds.

And CowID’s the first test—
For those who to the cities rest—
Below, like tags on herds confined,
Masks lock them all, enslaved, aligned.

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

"Enjoy!" — a common phrase before a meal...

Even cats without affection
Won't embrace their food’s connection.
A restaurant, like fairy tales,
For two-legged beasts with tails.

Who’s the animal? Think twice,
Scrape off pride and all the vice:
Nonsense, lies like swirling smoke—
This is what the truth provokes.

The final verdict’s clear and crude,
But we won’t name it — rude,
“Man like god”? A cursed fraud —
The Horned God, foul and flawed.

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

Drowning in Lies

They push —
We sink.
They push Lies —
Sick of all these stinking kinks...

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

The Suckers

Lies? Well, then turn on patience...
And multiply your tolerance?
If bullshit wins the fight,
You’re lost — no chance in sight.

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

Sellouts

Why do you cling to those corrupt freaks —
Honor, dignity? Like, who needs that, geeks?
Scary as hell — these sellout clowns, no tricks.
They tear apart what’s fragile, thin as sticks!

Thin the bullshit, thin the minds, so weak —
Primitive fools, but still, try books you seek.
“All subtle” — in the scum’s stale, crooked schemes,
But dissonance still rings loud through their dreams.

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

They Fucked Us All

They fucked us ALL —
That’s how this world is.
Keep grinding, “Emelya,” —
Wretched, poor, and helpless.

Chew your grub,
You VILE beast —
You’ll find a noose,
A flea sold out, at least!..

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

Truth and Fiends

How many fiends? —
Too damn many!
Roasting lies? —
No place to carry.

Enough to wait
For that tight space —
Time to kill
Those beasts with grace!

Not by force,
But all the same —
Few chances left
To become the same.

Just Truth,
Harsh and raw!
A burden, yes —
That’s what it’s for.

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

Путь и бред сивого мерина, то бишь гражданина

Чушью накормлен,
Страхом пришпорен.
Путь во Тьме вздорен:
ТВАРЯМ покорен.

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

Как стать бараном...

"Из страха стать кем-то я в конце концов стал ничем".
Эмиль Чоран.

Ложные цели =>
Выбор — не То;
Страх с колыбели:
В сумме НИЧТО.

Страх и обманы,
Вера ТВАРЬ`Ю:
Всюду бараны —
Служба Гнилью.

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

Производство напастей

"Мы оставим этот мир столь же глупым и столь же злым, каким застали его".
Вольтер.

Нет, глупее и подлее
Мир оставим — в том наш вклад.
Нелюдь делает мир злее;
Цель её — продажный гад.

Этот гад для ТВАРЕЙ средство
Оглупления мирка,
Так как верит мразям с детства,
Планка же невысока.

Планка — жрать, плодиться, "счастье"
Непременно отыскать.
Коли так, плодит напасти
Нелюдь — с гадом как два пальца обоссать.

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

Изъятие Духа в лженауке и в паттернах псевдожизни

"Понять лучшее — это уже работать над его осуществлением".
Жан Гюйо.

Только лучшее понять,
Если с детства будут лгать
Часто, нагло и убого,
Сложно. Тело, не частичка бога, —

Вот такой везде шаблон
Как итог всей лжи. Дух вон
Гонят из твоих понятий:
В лженауке — сплошь изъятья.

А коль так, то в ложных целях
Мир погряз. Чушь больше мелют =>
И тем дальше Духа Свет,
А в "сознаньи" страх и бред.

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

Кулинарная книга,
По ТэВэ сериал:
Для Познанья ни мига —
В Суете ум пропал.

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

Потребление и "заблуждения"

"Часто самый верный способ ввести человека в заблуждение — сказать ему чистую правду".
Марк Твен.

В "заблужденья" редко вводят:
В СМРАДах мрази колобродят,
В школах, ВУЗах оглупляют —
Ум последний добивают.

"Заблуждением" Познанье,
Что вразрез фашисткой срани,
Охватившей целый мир.
Потребление — кумир.

Ложь тотальная достала —
Совесть на Земле пропала
В большинстве: кругом бездушье.
Для Разумных мир удушлив...

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

"Строители" коммунизЬмы

Чмо Совейского Союза —
Он "строитель", не обуза.
Главным свойством одобрямс,
Вера в "светлое". Упрям

В добываньи ширпотреба,
Пропитанья; непотреба
Строя мерзкого не в`идна;
За себя в Дерьме не стыдно.

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

"Настоящие мужчины"
Типа "разогнули спины",
Вновь приказы выполняя,
Снова ближних убивая.

Но восстать опять не могут —
Больно верят мразям, в "бога":
Настоящий лишь Дурдом —
В скотском мире чернь молчком.

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

Кухня, церковь и детишки;
Плюс поваренные книжки:
Узость мира — детям что
Даст покорное НИЧТО?!

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

Школа —
Кухня произвола.
Выпекают там уродцев.
С Мраком будет кто бороться?..

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

Всемирный Отстой

Достоинство —
В Отстое?! Ствол
Поможет только в бандитизме,
А не в всеобщем кретинизме.

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

Животина — до кретина
Ещё надо дорасти!
Зооцирк — сплошь жопы, спины:
Лиц так мало! Не спасти...

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

Fallen Heroes

Fallen heroes, truly—
Just a poet’s voice,
Or a pen swung duly
To defy the noise.

Writers sharp and daring—
Not for sale or fame.
Publishers be swearing?
Screw them. Play no game.

Shout the truth unshaken,
Even if alone,
Like a soul forsaken
In a desert zone.

Gloriously perishing,
Having served your term,
Loving Light and cherishing
Soul through rot and worm.

Fallen heroes, burning
Truth through Hell’s facade—
Kept their spirit yearning,
Flamed through filth and fraud.

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

1.
They burned with truth, not sold or tamed —
In Hell they roared, not just complained.

2.
No deals. No mask. No fake applause.
They died for Light — not for a cause.

3.
Their soul stayed clean. The world — decayed.
They lit the rot. And weren’t afraid.

4.
In lies they stood — the blazing few.
No fame. No fear. Just truth they knew.

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

The Subtraction Master

Master of Subtraction —
Strips the lies away,
Clears the mind’s distraction,
Burns the rot to clay.

For the tainted spirit,
Paths are sharp and few.
Earth and thought? Don’t fear it —
Both are filled with stew.

Master of Subtraction
Cuts through all the grime.
Purest mind — no faction —
Walks the road sublime.

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

The Sweatshop System

The sweatshop system—
A soul-crushing pit.
Every gear is sharpened—
To obey? Just quit.

Or chasing "carrots,"
You’ll stumble, dumb mule.
Broken, twisted, mangled—
That’s the system’s rule.

Life’s too vast, and humans,
If free, would find the way,
Not served up on platters—
But earned in honest sway.

The sweatshop system—
Makes fools on the line.
Fools live on lies and memes,
No chains—but still confined.

For “carrots” cost less
Than prisons or death’s reign.
From childhood slaves absorb
The lies and shadow’s pain.

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

1.
Slave to carrots, chained in mind,
Freedom lost—just fools confined.

2.
System grinds the soul to dust,
Lies and memes — the only trust.

3.
Cheap carrots bait the slave’s march,
Truth buried deep beneath the arch.

4.
Born to serve, fed lies from birth,
The sweatshop crushes all true worth.

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

Slipshod Propaganda

Slip-slop:
Feed the crowd with lies and noise.
Flop-flip —
Spread the fear, create the void.
All a mess—
Propaganda, control—pure shame deployed.

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

Reading Material

Beer for reading,
Hangovers fleeing,
Often skipping,
Just joy leaking...
But to drown the mind, that potion
Serves its purpose — clear devotion.

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

Baron Munchausen’s Pull

Baron Munchausen will pull his hair—
And peace will circle ‘round, they say.
But fools who trust in tales so bare
Are lost inside the grand clich;.

Clownish politicians, pawns so small,
Serve masters whose aim is not peace.
The world itself—too dim, too dull—
A shooting range where hopes decrease.

Baron Munchausen will stretch out time,
While scum plots vile schemes to fall
On all the world—a poisoned crime,
Creating rot that feeds the thrall.

If the world’s a swamp, then where to go?
No place to pull yourself or fight.
The fate of fools is sunk below,
Drowned in the mire, lost to light.

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

Megatons of Battle Lies

How to craft equivalents
For total, vile deceit,
When everywhere the remnants
Of lies surround and cheat?

Madness forms perception’s base
For most who walk this Earth.
A curse, a spell, a twisted trace—
The fiends exult in birth.

With battle lies, these creatures kill
The Mind and Spirit’s core.
No grace remains—hell’s flames now grill
Us, trapped in lies and war.

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

1.
Lies explode—megaton weight,
Killing mind, sealing fate.

2.
Battle lies burn soul and brain,
Hell’s deceit — relentless pain.

3.
Fiends feed lies to snuff our light,
Darkness wins the endless fight.

4.
No oil left, just fiery hell—
Trapped in lies, we choke and dwell.

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

Powerless Fool

Powerless fool —
One single reflex.
Seems so cute —
A dumb brute’s flex.

“Forward!” he hears,
“Attack!” the call.
He’ll crush us all—
One brutal brawl.

He’s the mass,
A Darkness knight.
Darkness reigns—
A sellout blight.

Dumb as hell,
He fights the fight,
For fascist hell—
Against our light.

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

Gastrointestinal "Civilization"

Stomach full,
Plenty of shows,
Slogans drilled,
Money flows.

Other things?
Don’t give a damn.
“Smart” folks play
Poker scams.

One’s a nerd—
Bullies the weak.
In fascist muck?—
Lies they speak.

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

1.
Full guts, dumb brains,
Money rules, knowledge drains.

2.
Stomach stuffed, mind’s a joke,
Truth’s a bluff — lies provoke.

3.
Smart ones cheat, weak get crushed,
Fascist lies and lies all hushed.

4.
Gut-fed fools, no truth to seek,
Civilization? Just the weak.

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

Demos

Demos — Demon:
The demon inside dissolves.
Darkness reigns—
In that dark decay evolves.
Lost in nonsense,
Without Fire’s baptism,
We choke and drown,
No light, no wisdom.

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

Overfed

Overfed — it’s hard to work.
Must a poet always starve?
Better dead than lost in murk—
Dead, at least, won’t twist and carve.

Only dead poets meet
Most demands, almost all.
If much remains unsung,
It’s better — critics call.

A simple image works,
Critics love the easy score.
Read it quick, no strain, no quirks—
Light info, nothing more.

Ease beats depth — that’s what they want,
Sugar-coat it, keep it light.
Even this’s a crooked hunt—
Selling out to shallow sight.

Get stuck here, but know the line —
Die soon, brother, don’t delay.
Pioneers got heaps of rhymes,
So know your place, obey.

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

Consumption and "Delusions"

“Often the surest way to fool a man—
Is telling him the purest truth.”
— Mark Twain’s words to understand,
A trap that blinds, a twisted proof.

They rarely lead into “delusion” —
Scum crawl through media’s lies,
Schools and colleges spread confusion,
Killing minds where wisdom dies.

“Delusion” is the knowing torn
Against fascist filth that grips the globe.
Consumption reigns — the falseborn thorn,
The idol carved in greed’s own robe.

Total lies have worn us thin—
Conscience vanished from the earth,
Soulless masses lost within,
For the Wise, the world’s a curse.

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

Kitchen, Church, and Kids

Kitchen, church, and kids confined,
Cookbooks locked in narrow minds—
What can children gain or know
From obedient, empty show?

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

Beast to Moron

From beast to moron, still must grow —
This zoo-circus, all ass and back.
So few faces, lost the glow —
No saving here, just endless lack.

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

Cookbook

Cookbook, TV series,
Not a moment for knowing.
In the chaos, mind disappears—
No chance for true growing.

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

The Making of Misery

“We’ll leave this world as dumb and vile
As when we found it once,” they said. — Voltaire’s trial.

No — dumber, meaner, that’s our role,
A soulless fiend that kills the whole.
This fiend’s a tool for beasts below,
To dull the world, keep minds too slow.

Since childhood fools believe the lies,
The bar is set low, truth denies:
Eat, breed, “find joy” — the empty test.
So fiends breed woes; with scum, they jest.

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

“Builders” of Communism

A Soviet scum, no burden —
A “builder,” in blind accord,
Faith in “bright” lies stubborn,
In garbage they move forward.

They churn out cheap and trashy,
Feed on filth, dull and brashly.
Build the vile — yet can’t perceive,
In their own crap, no shame to grieve.

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

Extraction of Spirit in Pseudoscience and False-Life Patterns

“To grasp the best is work begun —
To bring it forth, the deed is done.”
— Jean Gu;henno

To grasp the best — but from your youth
They lie with brazen, ugly ruth.
Hard to believe when lies surround,
The body’s not a god profound.

This is the template everywhere,
The sum of lies, the Spirit’s snare.
They drive it out of thought’s domain:
In pseudoscience — pure disdain.

And so the world in falsehood sinks,
More nonsense spewed, no time to think.
The Spirit’s Light drifts far, astray,
While “consciousness” breeds fear and sway.

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

“Real Men”

So-called “real men” —
Their backs unbowed again,
Still follow orders cold,
And kill the close and bold.

But rise they cannot more —
They trust the scum they adore,
In “God” they place their blind accord —
True madness rules this sordid horde.

In this cruel world, the herd stays mute,
The rabble’s voice: a silent brute.

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

School —
A kitchen of abuse,
Where freaks are baked profuse.
Who’ll fight the Dark’s tight clutch,
When all they make is such?

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

Global Garbage

Dignity —
In this dump? No way.
Only a gun will aid the bandit’s play,
Not in the world’s widespread decay.

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

Filth

Rotten shit behind the gun,
Where have all the people gone?
Genocide and war persist,
They mow them down, none can resist.

But the scum will find their dens —
Soon the honest will be ends.
World-wide fascism will reign,
In hell the bastards will remain.

But just for now — the cataclysms,
Best escape from fascist schisms.
They’ll burn it all — then peace will come.
All this filth will be undone.

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

Beach and Booze

Beach and booze —
Is that a rest?
Don’t pretend you’re something more —
Or you’re just less.

Run and swim —
That’s how you’re strong.
In your shorts right at the door:
If they glare — just laugh along.

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

Adequacy?

Adequate — to serve the shame
Of vile, dishonored beasts?
A world locked up inside its frame,
In terror 'midst deceits.

Few are monsters, many real,
Yet if this scum should rule,
Satan posing as God’s seal —
Adequacy’s a fool.

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

Ass-Kissers

Ass-kissers all with endless greed—
Demand the juiciest treat.
Feed their backsides, then proceed
To climb the ranks, elite.

Find a better ass, you’ll rise—
In politics you’ll play.
But lose your own? You’ll pay the price—
You vanish, fade away.

They’ve got a nose for shit and lies,
These freaks who crawl so far.
Their gut’s their guide, their star that flies—
A dark and fetid star.

In world of asses, guts, and slime,
The stench is everywhere.
And brains? Just jelly every time—
If climbing up’s your prayer.

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

So-Called "Professionalism"

There, the soul’s distortion’s guaranteed,
Through templates all they see, and heed.
They force the world to fit their mold,
And chaos reigns—madness uncontrolled.

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

How to Become a Sheep...

“Afraid to be someone, at last I became no one.”
— Emil Cioran

False goals steer —
Choice’s a lie;
Fear from cradle —
Nothing’s nigh.

Fear and lies,
Faith in a beast;
Everywhere sheep —
Serving the feast.

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

Squeezing the Third World Dry

Third world drained —
Flushed down the drain,
Every drop sucked out,
Left only pain.

Back again —
Third world’s deep pit,
Toilet’s hold —
Where hopes all sit.

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

The Path and Drivel of a Gray Mare, a Citizen

Fed with nonsense,
Spurred by fear,
A path in darkness —
To scum adheres.

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

The Essence of Tyrants’ Rule

To rule —
To crush
All who oppose,
And turn the rest to fools
As strength bestows...
Look! Two-thirds are idiots, froze!

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

Constant Lies

Tick-tock tank —
Armor forged in lies.
A mass assault of fake,
Not a world, but shit disguised.

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

Explosive Work

Keep your lines sharp, like knives,
End each rhyme with pointed strikes.
If your verses lack the bite—
Slash your veins, pour out the fight.

Now the blood is thin as water:
Crush some TNT and slaughter
All that dullness—let it burn,
Explode the poem—no return!

If your strength is running low,
Fuel with thermonuclear glow.
Let your lines spit venom fast—
Weak and tame won’t ever last.

Blow yourself up with your verse,
Or in Hell you’ll be immersed.
To blow the whole damn Hell away—
The crucial task—why wait today?

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

Goals run aground;
Thoughts drowned in lies —
They babble nonsense,
Multiply your rise.

Strength of Spirit —
Here’s the core:
If no luck found —
Devour the gore.

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

They beat our own! But not quite there —
On screens they lead the beasts to dare,
False trails for all to blindly chase —
The box of lies, the root disgrace.

The traitors strike from high above,
Their wretched days, their lies they shove
Into fools forced to slave and bleed,
Sent off to war for darkest greed.

One goal — to drag them down below,
Beneath the depths where nothing grows.
The floor is cracked; no shock will bend
The triumph of that cruel end.

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

So-called "the people"—
Zombies, fools, and traitors,
Monsters skilled in theft and greed,
The bulk, they call the masses.

If this is truly "people,"
Then all is truly bleak:
Destroy this rabble—
For Earth, like fleas on a cat, they’re weak.

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

Rashist Newsfeed

Rashist news — a slaughter’s chant,
Propaganda’s endless rant.
Watch that crap — you’ll turn to wood,
Worthless oak, no good at all, you should.

Worm-eaten oak, a cheap disgrace,
Made into plugs to clog the place.
Once mere "cogs" in "happy" times,
Now the filth in power climbs.

The box of lies—now F;hrer’s throne,
Commands flow only from its tone.
They’ll saw the oak, strip off its bark,
No shame to wallow in the dark.

And it’ll serve as plugs instead—
To stop the pot from bursting red.
Where the matches? Where the fuel?
Hey, Chief-Zomb-Goat, what’s your rule?

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

Labels and "Isms"

Generations full of sloth and crap,
A bloody trail of dumb collapse.
Decay and fools in every head—
In “consciousness,” just nonsense spread.

Only sparks, few grains remain
Of true awareness through the pain.
Not dreams or thoughts that fade away—
The whole damn mind’s ground into clay.

Genocide lasts through the years;
Fascism rules, confirming fears.
Yet rotten fools bow down and praise
Each “ism” in this sick malaise.

New or old — the “ism’s” game,
Communism, or human’s name—
Labels hung in madman’s gaze,
Fascism wears them all the same.

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

Filth on Screen

The bacillus of films twists the facts,
Distorts the truth till it all cracks.
Films worse than terror’s cruel attack—
Poisoned lies fed to billions back.

They shove it through the stench-filled streams,
Through schools, through rest—no place for dreams.
Hybrid wars inject their schemes,
Instead of bombs, these toxic memes.

Not just the victims, armies built
From docile fools, by fear and guilt.
Fascism rises, sows the pain,
While believers fuel its reign.

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

The Cuckoo

Cuckoo, how long will you keep tocking
In this mad, corrupt, forsaken place?
Killing soul and mind, soul-blocking —
Enduring vile disgrace with grace?

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

Like Christmas...

Mad fools bring all the troubles here,
A twisted, broken, ruthless crowd.
Years drag on, like worn-out gear,
In fascism’s grim, triumphant shroud.

They shaped us with the fake CowID,
Then tested us with brutal war.
Few honest minds remain to see —
The scum who never think, deplore.

The worst enemy by far, these pests,
Through them will come the grim “reign,”
Of genocide — their vile guests —
They’ll greet this horror like a gain.

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

The Groundhog Age

The Groundhog Age — destruction, wars,
And endless rule of iron hand!
If slaves you are — then bear the cause,
The vile worm’s who rules the land.

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

Simpleton Fool...

Simpleton fool — is it fate,
Or just genetics’ cruel bait?
No, it’s Doom — the world will die
Through their hands, a slave and lie.

Madness rules, and all they do
Is wild chaos, nothing new.
But impossible by lies so vile
To make truth bend for a while.

Lie must be pushed, bold and loud,
Through the ages, thick as cloud.
Fears must spread, a filthy seed,
Sown forever — madness’ creed.

Simpleton fool — the mass around,
A madhouse whole, no soul is found.
Conscience, honor, spirit slain —
They make beasts out of the sane.

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

Ivan the Fool, Western Style

Billy bullied, beat him down,
With wild lies, a vicious crown.
Crafting this new breed of kind —
Where the mind’s left almost blind.

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

Bullshit

So much bullshit, little sense,
Like a storm of nonsense dense.
Bullshit makes you crippled, blind —
Castrated fools of every kind.

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

Path of the Fighting Sheep

Alma mater —
A dull and bitter grind,
A stubborn prick —
Love’s cursed bind.
Lost in faiths,
A fool’s hobby spree,
Wives, girlfriends,
Friends, neighbors — pitiful debris.

Endless struggles
To forget death’s game,
A stupid ram,
In fear and shame,
Marches to labor,
Marches to slaughter —
Ruled by a tyrant,
Hell’s own author.

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

Fake Life

Rest, corpse, calm! —
The end is here, the final bomb.
To the grave — with worthy tone,
And let the beasts be overthrown.

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

Not just booze and wild affairs —
They call it "Olympus" there.
Also "royal" salted fish...
Stuck deep in the "kingdom’s" dish...

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

Autumn leaves are swirling round...
On air, a ceaseless stonefall sound:
Lies pour down on heads like rain...
Live soul, don’t touch the box of pain!

There lies like steel or hardened stone,
Strong enough to crush the bone—
It drives out reason, leaves the dead,
The madness of attacks widespread.

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

So-Called “Advanced Yoga”

Relaxation,
Realization —
Buzzwords in a toxic blend.
Fraud and fear and fake salvation,
Laziness that has no end.

But awareness of damnation
Is a thing they never teach.
“Give us bliss!” — the blind ovation
From the herd that tyrants preach.

Face your Hell before you’re burning,
If there’s fire left in your soul.
Wake the f*** up! Truth is churning —
Not some dream of being “whole.”

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

Delusions

If you dare not face the madness
That has nested in your core,
You'll be crushed in Hell’s own badness—
Where the mind exists no more.

We’re at threshold. Hell lies open.
Crowds are swarming, wild and loud—
Scum all pushing, blindly hopin’
To be first among the crowd.

From our youth, the rot is growing—
Only few will stand and fight.
Most are wrong, and barely knowing—
That alone’s a bitter might.

“Education” means sedation—
Drills for cogs in slave-machine.
Madness passed through generations—
Is the finest cage they’ve seen.

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

The Rant of False History

They say history repeats —
Wouldn't progress do the same?
No — it crawls through wild deceits,
Spurred by madness, press, and shame.

Lies decay us, deeply rooted,
While "the past" becomes a tool —
Used by "scholars", dull, deluded,
To control and to befool.

“Less is worse,” they preach of chains —
Twisting truth to fit their schemes.
Tyrants' filth in old domains
Now gets sold as noble dreams.

Was there ever darker slavery
Than the one we now endure?
CowID proved, with grim bravery,
Just how deep the filth can lure.

It’s the same old madness spinning —
Nothing new beneath the sun.
Only sarcasm feels fitting
For this circus they call “run.”

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

Almost a Joke

Tricks bring pain —
Life’s a stunt.
Less you strain,
If you're blunt.

More of fight,
Less of noise.
Dare the light —
Not fate’s ploys.

Tricks are chains,
But you’re free
If you chase
Love’s path — see?

Walk, don’t juggle.
Truth is near.
Jokes may struggle,
But without them — disappear.

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

Rewards and Reliefs

A bagel's hole — your grand reward
For seeking truth and staying bold.
Oblivion is the just accord —
This mad world’s promise has run cold.

The past will peel, the “new” will fade,
For nothing new is ever real.
It’s all a weary, cheap charade —
Just wait for Death to sign the deal.

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

A Hole for a Crown

A bagel’s hole — that’s all the prize
For poets, writers who won’t sell.
The whores in suits, with glossy lies,
Are crawling everywhere like hell.

Add countless traitors to the game,
And all the weak who kiss the boot
Of thugs who rise through bluff and shame —
Their “honors” soon will just pollute.

But here’s the twist — in days now gone,
At least they read. Today? Not much.
Now in this century, the pawn
Is tested by a viral sludge:

A stream of memes and TikTok reels —
Their minds were flushed by viral feeds.
The truth? Replaced by shouting deals
From armies selling junk as creeds.

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

They sell you rot, then call it gold —
You speak the truth? You're bought and sold.
The prize is nothing, just a hole —
While lies devour the public soul.

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

The Future of the Global Madhouse

Three-fourths here don’t deserve to breathe —
These bastards feed the coming lash.
Because of them, the fiends beneath
Will grind us down — no joke, no flash.

CowID paused — a war on hold.
New plagues are planned by wicked swine,
For empty minds do as they're told,
Still drunk on fear and fed with lies.

This herd of fools, in full decay,
Will drag us into chains and hell.
The beasts are betting all will pay,
Since drooling mobs obey so well.

They’ll grind us down with false alarms —
Just feed the filth to vacant brains.
What lies ahead brings no calm charms,
Just storms, just pain, just choking chains.

Yet there's a joy — a final spark:
This madness will not last too long.
The madhouse burns — and in the dark,
The sun will rise to right the wrong.

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

Challenges in the Circles of Hell

Let challenge meet the challenge face to face —
Not by denial's sterile repetition,
But honor clashing clean, with no disgrace,
No fear, no doubt, no cowardly submission.

Hell's spirals twist, and trials there abound.
What once was wild, rebellious, blazing bright,
Seems tame the deeper down — where fools are crowned
For trading truth for comfort in the night.

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

False Time of the Luciferian System

Is it a test of time — or weight?
Time’s worse: it feeds the Dark's domain.
We call it "time", but what we hate
Is slow decay of soul and brain.

This "time" is rot — a masquerade,
A cloak for entropy and lies.
And still the Beast is served, obeyed —
Both then, and now, beneath dead skies.

It isn’t time — it’s time’s disguise.
Above time dwells a higher sphere,
But we, the spawn of sunken minds,
Have made it custom to adhere

To lies — from priests and pseudo-thought,
Who cripple Space and Time with rules.
They sell their souls, then sell what's taught —
A creed imposed by mindless ghouls.

Don’t trust. Go deep. The path is yours —
Within you dwells the light, the key.
Let intuition open doors,
But keep your mind alive and free.

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

The Union of Truth and Sludge

A mix of essence, filth, and grime —
That’s how verse crawls through modern time.
In worlds of sleaze and creeping dread,
Our nerves burn out, the soul half-dead...

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

Expanding the Bounds of Knowing — Together, Without False Science

The self — a cycle stuck in place,
A dull routine we all embrace.
Critical thought? They chase it off —
No space to question, all is scoffed.

The “atom” world — a beast’s design,
Born from lies fed as “divine.”
More cheese to trap, more filthy lies,
A bait to blind collective eyes.

Together only Hell’s escaped,
But all asleep — world’s night draped.
Will dawn arise? There’s just one light:
That Dawn will burn the shame, the blight.

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

Information War

Tanks don’t fear the mud or grime.
But "divs" of leaks are primed to strike —
You must fight "divs" with cunning crimes,
Or lies will finish what they like.

Pour the sludge into the net,
Crush the dumb lies, no regret.
Bravery’s needed just the same,
Even if the pay’s so lame.

Fight as guerilla, free,
Anger’s fuel for victory.
All the fiends will get their due
When the world’s last hours are through.

(Note: “Div” — a block element that marks a text fragment.)

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

Create!

Create — don’t rot or fake.
Strive — don’t dream or break.
Wither, die, if forced to lie—
Truth’s the only way to fly!

Oceans drown in lies and slime,
Sold-out fools in darkest time.
CowID’s cult, the fascist reign,
Praised by scum, a vile stain.

But harsh justice draws its line —
Everyone must pay in time.
They’ll burn the madhouse to the ground,
Build new Halls of Lies around.

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

The Purifying Fire

The Devil’s mark is branded here,
On all, it burns, sharp as a spear.
Fiends strike lies like scorching flame,
They scorch, they kill, they spread the shame.

They brand the souls with ruthless spite,
Bold, sly, they thrive in darkest night.
But now the game comes to an end —
A fire burns to cleanse and mend.

A different flame will purge the stain,
Bring joy to souls freed from their chain,
Destroying fiends in fiery sweep,
Awakening the pure to keep.

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

Fair Winds to Your Stern…

Fair winds beneath your keel, take flight —
Escape this Hell, abandon night!
This Shame will vanish, fade, and fall:
Each vile fiend will answer all!

They’ll pay — even those who cower,
Silent, trembling, lost their power.
Salvation lies in flight alone —
So leave this Shame, this Hell, this Throne!

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

Tales and Dances

Tales and dances, all rehearsed —
Wind-up fools, forever cursed,
Even old, the masks remain:
Puppeteers, the scum, the stain.

Clumsy lies the liar spits,
Only fools believe these bits.
Crude, absurd, a tyrant’s grin —
“Kind uncle” hides the sin.

Axes drawn ‘twixt good and ill,
Sew white threads to scare and kill.
Anything they’ll justify,
Pseudoscience to crucify.

CowID’s “science” fools the herd —
More such “wonders” will be heard.
This vile breed, a bitch’s spawn,
Knocked at heaven — now it's gone…
Hell rejoices — demon’s dawn.

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

Like a "Dream Factory"

So many films on cops and law,
But art? Almost none you saw.
The cabal sets the scene that way —
Gloss on freaks to make them sway.

Then “four-eyes” or “geek” in frame
Looks like fool to madness’ game.
Sheepish, dumb, sold-out in suit —
Like Holmes or heroes in old route.

Work goes on to "normalize"
Those who lose their sanity’s prize.
A “normal” label stuck on queer —
Nonsense from that dream factory here.

Souls derailed, humanity drained,
Reason turned to babbling, insane.
Watch that stew — pure carelessness:
Leaves a bitter soul’s distress.

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

Lie and Finish Off...

Fuss and pointless strife,
Strife that’s never just —
Fuss feeds lies to life —
The end: a total bust.

Focus just on survival —
Kills the mind inside.
Lie and lie, revival?
The soul crushed by the tide.

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

Cramming, Zeal, and Discipline

Youth’s bright fire burns to ash,
In cramming dull, petty stuff,
And zeal misplaced, a crash —
Not thinking’s roughest bluff.

But copying vile false gods —
Made just to drag you down —
Such fate for many clods.
If bold, you’ll see the clown.

To kill talent’s no great feat —
Make "nothing" idolized,
Lie shamelessly, repeat,
And with discipline, despised.

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

Horseshoes for the Donkey

Jehovah’s just a horseshoe
For a two-legged ass,
He died — they forge anew
For all their worthless mass.

These donkeys—backs all cracked—
Drag pointless loads in vain.
A carrot dangled, sticks cracked,
Calm seas hide all the pain.

If you’re not a donkey,
They’ll hunt or cast you out.
These devils rule the money,
Slap horseshoes all about.

A real God is creation —
He needs no slaves or fools,
But died in witch’s nation,
Bound by their cruel rules.

For two-legged donkeys only,
Horseshoes hold such weight.
The normal ones walk freely—
Protected by their fate.

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

Fertilizing with Ash

Don’t waste your breath on fools —
They’re lost beyond repair.
Just kindling for their tools,
They’ll burn it all to air.

But after night, at dawn,
The world will bloom with ash.
Like children, hearts will spawn,
Not minds that only clash.

If heart and mind align —
Then balance lights the way.
But how to teach the blind?
They’ll never understand, no way!

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

System Corruption

Once you’re inside—the game is known;
No way to dodge decay.
Blind, mute, to speak is to lie shown—
Truth dies, replaced by sway.

Negative selection’s rule,
The system’s famed decay.
Once thieves were plain—now lies the tool,
Master deceit’s the way.

Each one’s bound tight with dirt and shame,
Control by blackmail’s grip.
Avoid it—every nation’s lame,
Fascism’s tightening whip.

We’re stuck so deep, no way to win—
The road ahead’s descent.

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

Mirages of Corrupt Stumps

Spin your tales, Emelya, not empty lies —
No use in this world where falsehood thrives.
All empty talkers lay soft disguise —
But falls hurt deep, where mirage lies.

Their falsehood’s weak, can’t cushion the blow,
Their goal’s just to push you down low.
Truth here is moss, old and slow —
You’re mossed yourself if you call it woe,

And value fools who sell cheap breath,
Spin or believe — you’ll save your skin’s death...
For now... but you’ll vanish, lost in the fray —

“The soul must toil,” or waste away.
No mere illusion is Hell’s decree:
It’s mirages from corrupt dead trees.

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

Failing...

The collective farm, "A Hundred Years No Yield" —
A metaphor for mind’s lost field.
The mind keeps failing, failing hard,
Soon all will vanish, leave no shard.

Total lies and dumbness spread,
An "industry" of fools ahead.
To bear this filth is crime so grave,
Yet ages pass — the cursed wave.

So here we stand, the end’s in sight —
The farm’s a desert, dead of light.
Those who don’t fight, they’ve lost their fate —
The fiend will send them to death’s gate.

The fighters may fall, yet save their soul,
While foul disgrace consumes this whole.
World rotten, vile, damned to rot —
Your time is done, your fate is shot.

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

The Core of the Chaos

The core of Chaos — deeper dread:
A world torn loose, by lies misled,
Where best among us falls and dies
Beneath deceit and dark disguise.

Lie bolder, sharper, full of spite,
Spread fear to choke out all the light.
Let fraud grow vile, more cruel still —
Corrupt the soul with poisoned will.

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

On the Farm

Today it’s you,
Tomorrow me —
The cattle wait,
The swine foresee
The hour of slaughter near.
The whole Earth’s like a farm, my dear.
If not a pest, then rise, awake —
Or die, damn it, for Heaven’s sake!

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

So-Called "Revolutions"

Leather jackets, flushed red faces —
Here come commissars to drown disgraces.
In wild hangovers, anger swells —
That commissar could never break his hell.

Stupidity rules here, all around,
And scum unites in packs, profound.
So all this madness drags and lasts,
The world’s a prison — no escape fast.

Red-faced mobs, obedient drones...
Are these humans, or just food on bones?
All "revolutions" lie and cheat,
Foam rising up from wombs deceit.

That shameful scum commands the froth —
Hidden deep, but leather croaks the sloth,
Peddling lies to slaughter’s gate.
Do slaves believe? Then that’s their fate!

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

Producing Chaff

To write a “kind” and gentle rhyme —
Is not a task for fools with time.
Be courteous, precise, controlled —
But not a fierce verse to be told.

Consider all the aims and schemes,
Conditioned by deceitful streams.
Falsehood rules through every age,
No mind alive to turn the page.

They’ll chew the chaff of “goodness” fed,
And shove it straight into their head.
Add poison, but the fool won’t know —
That’s just the way the idiots grow.

They swallow lies spun neat and slick,
Dressed as “truth” in every trick.
Not fools, but crooks behind the scenes,
Cooking lies in dirty means.

Enough? Shall we then strike the flame
With furious verse to end this game?!!

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

Cake of Filth

The more a banana republic rots,
The grander grows its symbol’s spots.
The duller crowds, the fouler breed—
The bigger grows the lies they feed.

This falsehood carries heavy weight,
Though threads of white still weave their fate.
A world of lies, a distant drama—
A glorious cake made out of karma.

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

Steadfastness

Unyielding truth — unshakable stand,
Or else you’re just a twisted man,
In filth and stench where scum have found
Their “salvation” in the lies around.

Corruption thrives in vile deceit,
They turn the best to worthless meat.
Unyielding truth means to resist—
Let scum be shaken by the fist!

The world decays in madness deep,
But not the sane are far and few.
Steadfastness is the secret code:
“Friend or foe?” — it guides the road.

Though all may fall, don’t bow, don’t break—
Your soul alone you’ve got to save.
Listen to it, or you’ll be lost,
Drowned in the lies that count the cost.

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

Psychiatry and Psychology: Adapting Small Madness to Grand Delirium

Adapting madness — small and blind —
To GRAND DELIRIUM defined.
Psychiatrists, dull and stark,
Escape the sting of biting sarcasm’s mark.

A tiny madman, just a screw
In a crazed machine askew,
If politics calls that “norm,”
No cause to question or reform.

Don’t believe their “treatment’s” success,
If money flows, no one’s left less.
All will march in ranks aligned
To futile toil and slaughter blind.

If the madman’s not unlucky,
That’s the “norm.” Just tip them—quickly!

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

Masturbation of Poems

Publisher to self,
Critic and fan as well —
That’s the modern way.
Only write this way.

If you spread the sweetened lies,
You betray, no compromise.
That must be purged, no doubt —
No falsehood left about.

Self-accuser, fierce exposer —
This today’s poetic poser.
If the world’s foul fascism’s here,
Smash the lies, or poems veer

Downward fast — no chance to rise.
Keep too quiet — madness flies.
Enduring evil breaks the roof —
A sharp, relentless crisis proof.

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

The Foundation of Global Bedlam

The world outside is soaked in filth —
So boldly turn within, the wealth
Of answers lies inside your core,
While lies outside uphold the war.

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

The Barrel and the Dot

Roll out the barrel’s final charge,
Light up the fuse — be bold, enlarge.
So mark your life with one last shot,
If resistance is your plot.

Gunpowder may be in words —
Explosive verses, fierce as swords.
But if fools read it as mere noise,
It’s nonsense then, not truth’s voice.

What you alone call powder’s fire,
Is only yours — no one’s desire.
If you spin tales that aren’t real,
Yourself alone will not forgive, feel.

Roll out the barrel’s final part,
Along the way, gather heart:
More powder in the night to burn —
A sudden clash will twist and turn.

Will dawn arrive? Who really cares?
You won’t await it, weighed by fears.
If you stayed sharp, unbought, and true,
Screw the beasts — their reign’s on you.

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

The Great Doubt

Dedicated to Tartang Tulku

Great Time, great Knowledge, vast expanse —
Tulku’s words described them well.
But worldwide shit decays to fascist dance,
A Tenth Wave of lies to sell.

It’s time to add a Great Doubt here,
To all these claims, long overdue.
The final debt to Reason clear:
Soon all will burn — cataclysm brews.

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

Modern Villainy and Deception

Villainy? Oh, yes—
A liar’s game, no less!
Lie to the crazed,
No need to be phased.

Lies are total,
Toxic, fatal,
Worth a dime,
But with a blast—prime.

Flawed? You’re mad,
A fool, a cad—
It’s just pure
Nuclear lure:

Deception’s bite,
A deadly blight—
Simple truth:
A venomous youth.

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

Old-School Vova and ChebuRashki

Uncle Vova’s flying in,
With his worn-out, rusty spin,
Shoving “Rusism” down our throats again.
This old tale’s not brand new—
Clumsy as it’s always been—
Only fascism here will reign.

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

Not the End?

No "normal world" remains —
Just one that's flying straight to hell.
Enough of free cheese chains,
Enough of all — the end will fell!

Enough of selling out so cheap,
No soul to buy or sell — it’s dead!
Enough of traitors, cold and steep,
Who sell their souls to hell instead?

Enough? These words are just for grabs —
The human filth stays quiet still.
That filth from fools, the universe
Feels deep shame for, and always will.

There are exceptions — but so few.
So all is speeding toward the end.
Yet propaganda shouts anew:
“It’s not the end!” — they still pretend.

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

The Zombie Box

I turn the zombie box and trust —
Its zombie mob commands my will.
I open doors to rashist dust,
Their “salvation” seeming still.

They'll save us all from CowID,
And lead us straight to war's grim pit...
The Kremlin slime speaks loud and free —
The fool absorbs the lying shit.

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

Brainwashing

Brainwashing’s law —
For fools, their final cause.
The end’s always the same:
Down the toilet goes their name.

This path’s a highway paved
With stupid lies enslaved,
Dragging all to hellish plains —
Blood-soaked slaughterhouses’ chains.

They showed us CowID’s game
And war’s relentless flame.
When mind is dead and split,
You do with fools what’s fit...

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

So-Called "The People"

Wake and repent?
But “the people” sleep —
A stupid mass, their intent,
Bound by fascist keep.

No consciousness, no crowd,
No spirit — just the rabble.
Few are sensitive, proud;
Without sense, you’re just a scrabble.

To feel the world’s deep damage,
Multiply by reason’s might —
To bear such evil’s carnage
Is simply not right.

But if they bow and trust those fiends,
They only earn their fate —
Fried in lies, their souls, it seems,
Devils feast on their hate.

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

Sympathy for the Inhuman

Disposal of the fools —
Success is thin and slight,
Though fascist forces rule
With fake diseases, wars to fight.

The paradox is clear —
Fools should be crushed and reined,
But lost in blank despair,
They’re weak, confused, detained.

Tasks fail, all goes awry,
Stupidity derails the plan.
The inhuman writhes and tries
Amidst the wars and lies that span.

All that’s left — to pity them —
A task that’s simply bleak,
When heartless strikes the feeling stem,
And rotten fools are deemed unique.

A layer of the wise remains,
A factor hard to forecast —
In chaos’ storm, an attractor gains,
A stubborn block that kills at last.

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

Ends and Messengers

The ends are breaking off —
Life’s no more, just one big trap.
Riders come? Or liars’ cough?
But Death’s the thought to map...

Death draws lines beneath us all —
Man, or just a lump of flesh?
Drive the scum, the vermin, crawl —
Cut the ends, ditch all the mesh.

Sharpen words with biting verse,
Or prose — it counts the same.
The madhouse round you, terse —
Is worthless, soon to flame.

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

Are Our Tanks Really Fast?

Those “in tanks” at break of dawn
Built their armor just for show.
That armor’s fake, a flimsy con —
They plaster nonsense high and low.

Movement’s stalled, no way to fight,
Only spew their vile disgrace.
That giant lie won’t take much might
To bring crashing down from base.

Those “in tanks” bury their heads,
Like ostriches in the sand.
Those who broke free from their threads
Walk on light, they make a stand.

Few there are inside those tanks —
Most are caught within the cage.
Kursk’s curve? The clash that ranks —
All will lie in sand and rage.

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

Mafioso’s No Real Threat

Mafioso’s like a thorn?
In post-Soviet days —
Mafioso’s just a morn’
Mimosa’s childish phase.

And is the traitor better?
I’ve seen the mob and hacks,
Politicians, all fetter —
But writers strike the facts.

Among them, just a few
Deserve that kind of praise.
The rest like bugs, they stew
In lies and sticky haze.

By custom, fools will stay
In dumb, wild crowds they bind,
Only adding chains each day —
Few leave the lickspittle grind.

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

Global F#ckup

“A keen ear strains to catch a sound.”
But all in vain — just lies will rise.
While reason in deceit is drowned,
Worth nothing but a worthless prize.

And Nature shudders in her fear —
A monster sold to highest bid.
Soulless fools and mindless drear
Spew nonsense — babble, nothing hid.

Fascism’s filth is everywhere,
Genocide drags on for years.
For souls with spirit, shame and tears
Weigh heavy on their minds and fears.

Their ranks thin out — the beasts now swarm,
They fill the void, they rule the scene.
The end is near — the final storm —
This World’s damned f#ckup, vile and mean.

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

Blow the Horn, Then Bullshit

Swords to plowshares turned to noise,
Metal scraps to iron pipes.
Blow the horn — no other choice,
We don’t care — all’s lost types.

If the horn should break and fall,
Then we’ll bullshit through it all.

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

Aladdin or the Djinn

Is Aladdin truly king,
Or the cunning Djinn who’s king?
No reason to trust fairy tales —
Darkness, lies, and endless wails.

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

Creation

God is creativity,
To merge — the only way.
False knowledge, lies, deformity
Won’t help the truth convey.

Inside — the world is one:
Macro, micro intertwined.
But lose your course, you’ll come undone,
When falsehood grips your mind.

Cling tight to lies — a towering mount,
A Everest of deceit.
Wake up from fog, break from the rout,
Escape the common cheat.

The herd feeds on the purest trash,
While breakthroughs come from few.
Creation breaks the chains that clash —
The lies the masses brew.

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

The Toilet

"The world has bent itself for you..."
— From some ancient TV pitch.

The world’s adjusted just for us,
But stinks and burns the nose.
The whole damned world’s a cesspool now —
Where lies like poison flows.

And in our minds a total mess,
This falsehood drags us down.
No need for executioners —
The lies just multiply the drown.

They’ll march to slaughter, even sing,
Genocide’s their care.
The filthy CowID showed the way —
Deception everywhere.

The world’s adjusted just for us —
Dumb, cruel, and vile inside.
Our reason’s fading, crushed by lies —
By treacherous falsehood’s tide.

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

False Foundations of Pseudo-Science

So much trash accepted blind,
As base for falsehood’s art —
Pseudo-science, fog designed
To fool the trusting heart.

Rotten grounds and cheap charades,
Liars vicious, cold as ice.
They can kill with twisted shades —
Their lies cut sharp as knives.

Take the filth we call a “plague,”
Brewing fast, a toxic brew.
Old fools’ "pioneers" will fade,
Killed off like a mere taboo.

Promises? Just empty bait,
What they bring is only shit.
Monsters killing reason’s state —
False science, frozen counterfeit.

If you want to join their game,
“Pioneer,” then learn the lies —
Drown yourself inside the shame,
Where truth and logic dies.

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

Rot of Ideas

Rot of thoughts —
No tricks at all:
Devils’ madness calls —
Crush them all!

Plant the craze —
Lie even more:
Sheep, die slow
Under “Dawn”’s false roar!

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

On Fellow Travelers

Idiot—hang him high—
The deadliest of foes.
Through their attacks of evil,
Your strength just slips and goes.

Here’s a trick: in mind, draw loops,
Then step away, be free.
From fools, death’s cold breath is blowing—
Walk alone, silently.

If no wise and honest souls
Cross paths along your way—
Loud fools swarm in countless hordes,
Not comrades, but decay...

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

CowID’s Claymakers

An idiot’s a stick of TNT —
The fascist power’s crude device.
He killed the dark, made misery —
A model carved in sacrifice.

A reckless scumbag — mind destroyed,
The whole world reeks — disgrace and shame.

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

CowID Filth

CowID filth —
A shame, a blight.
The world’s dumped down
A sewer’s night.

Mind and Spirit
Rot inside,
Lies cut deep —
Now multiply.

Another CowID —
“Found” and slain,
You’ll be crushed,
Abused, in pain.

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

In Hell

No money left — just worthless notes,
No truth remains, lies choke the air.
Few humans here — just crawling motes;
If you believe the lies, beware.

Exceptions scarce, truth drowned in slime,
Generations dumbed and blind.
Downward spiral, fear and grime,
Darkness spreads inside the mind.

Degradation hits its peak —
No further fall, no depth to seek.
"Life" is empty, aimless, weak,
Monsters hold the power they seek.

The fiends must smoke away,
With slaves they bind and make their play.
Who wakes in this new hellish day?
Just few. That’s Hell — no other way.

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

The Citizen

A beastly mind built up in layers,
Where only lies from news prevail.
A nauseous citizen — no prayers,
Don’t touch him — or your words will fail.

Any sane thought is his foe,
He’ll see you as a threat, no less.
The Spirit’s yearnings? Slime and woe —
His skin alone commands respect.

No more than skin — no man remains,
A wretched shell that drags along,
His pitiful life dull and drained,
A weary, endless, pointless song.

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

Solar Apocalypse

The Sun’s bright flare, in just a span
Of two-thirds century, has grown—
It means swift death for mortal man,
A fate by fire, harshly shown.

The cause of heat is clear and one:
The Sun and Earth together burn
All spawn of evil, come undone,
Their shattered heads in fire churn.

But cows just fart, factories spew—
Yet fiends keep spouting lies and spin:
“The carbon trace!”—the tale they brew,
Blaming all for nature’s sin.

They’ll force herbivores to cease
Their natural gas release,
Claim to wipe the “footprint” clean—
But select few slip between.

Into underground domains,
With beasts enslaved, they’ll creep below.
This brazen nonsense feeds their gains,
Devouring truth in shadow’s glow.

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

Law-Abiding Citizen

A cloudy fool —
Brain like jelly.
Fear beneath,
Nonsense out.
Feed him well —
He’s blissed out!

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

Creative Race

A race? Thin ice —
Pain will tear.
If it’s sharp —
Salt in the tear.

The meaning’s core.
So race ahead!
If you chase the crap —
Then drown instead.

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

The Craft of Verse

Trust in verse — the base,
The craft’s true core.
A fool can’t grasp —
He’s just a bore!

Don’t fear — the first line
Will come one day.
If you’re not dumb,
The rest will sway.

The race is rhythm and meaning,
Rhyme leads the way.
If stuck on a line —
It’s fine, don’t sway.

Keep moving forward —
Onward, always!

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

So-called "Being"

To loosen skill —
Endure it like a gift.
But mind’s eclipse —
No lift, just drift.

What matters most —
To scum is trash.
"Earthly being" —
Souls’ decay and crash.

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

No Luck...

Greed, dullness, shameless vice,
Cowardice, and ruthless spice.
Screwing, rowing for their gain,
Loving only self’s domain.

Here’s the sellout, idiot’s part,
Traitor, snitch with poisoned heart.
Almost all the rabble’s bred —
Now that rabble’s soon outdead.

Sun blazes stronger, higher—
Marking end of days most dire.
No more sobs or saving lies,
No more falsehoods in disguise.

Rank by rank, for all the wrong,
To the New Hell they belong.
What has luck but evil served?
Just a few—none well preserved.

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

“Miracle”

A "miracle" will come — in frightful tales,
No story’s whole without such scales.
Clues lie scattered all around,
If deeper in the "woods" you’re bound.

Partisans grow thick and strong,
Old crones kinder all along.
More the toadstools will arise,
Water spirits bolder, wise.

This “miracle” will forge the beast,
The real badass, to say the least.
But traitor’s voice within the tale —
That badass means we’re doomed to fail.

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

Almost a Fairy Tale

Old crones wait upon the path,
Leading to the darkest woods.
Hold on tight, endure the wrath —
The oven’s set, the demon broods.

Take some salt, be sly, compliant,
Serve the scum with wicked grin.
Made for joy—your sad defiant,
Feeding rot, the foulest sin.

You’re their meal, the dumb and low,
Serving those who breed the blight.
But the rot will face the glow—
Flash of Light will end their night.

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

Freaks and Their Masters — The Scum

Scum can’t match the freaks who crawl
Into the filthy halls of power.
Those mad sellouts take it all —
They’ll be charged for every hour.

All accounts are subtraction —
What’s destroyed by wicked fiends?
Hell itself? The soul’s retraction?
Rot and ruin fill their scenes.

Into New Hell goes the scum,
But humans — their remains rise.
Humans are the ones who come
With clear minds and spirit’s prize.

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

Напрасность сочинительства

Тяжёлый труд.
Напрасный труд.
Его сотрут?
Так много врут —
Активен плут:
Исчезнет так
В Клоаке Врак.

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

Оковы

"Дипломатия состоит в том, чтобы гладить собаку до тех пор, пока намордник не будет готов".
Фридрих Ницше.

Дипломатика, политика,
"Воспитание" и труд —
Всё туда же. Ну а нытиков
В порошок всегда сотрут,

Коль намордники готовы
И кругом цепные псы.
В головах все те оковы.
Рви оковы и не ссы!

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

Хождение в "народ":
От ужаса не рвёт,
Коль не далёк от них —
Убогий, глупый псих.

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

Удавка, нависшая над этим миром

"Надо запастись либо умом, чтобы понимать, либо веревкой, чтобы повеситься".
Антисфен, IV-ый век до н.э.

Если вдоволь разуменья,
То к верёвке первый шаг, —
Вводит в ужас РАЗЛОЖЕНЬЕ,
И дебил, что рядом, враг.

Разуменье возрастает —
Начинается борьба.
Постепенно силы тают —
Не спасти во Тьме раба.

Разумение витками:
Понимаешь наконец,
Что верёвка дураками
Свита — и всему мирку ****ец.

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

Голоса — почти психиатрическое...

Внутренний голос и хор недоумков:
Свет лишь ВНУТРИ, всех придурков к чертям, —
Слушай себя, сторонися поступков
Типа пользительных типа люд`ям.

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

Недеяние

"Удовольствие иметь не стоит труда приобретения".
Жан Жак Руссо.

Удовольствие !ИМЕТЬ!
Остановит только смерть:
Что как белка в колесе,
Понимают то не все,

И обычно перед смертью.
Недеянием жизнь мерьте,
Коль Познанию опора
И защита ото вздора.

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

Amnesia and Inner Fire
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT

Amnesia

Amnesia! Amnesia! —
Forgot the Spirit’s core.
How dull we’ve grown — inside the skull,
Only lies and horror roar.

Boldly inward — answers dwell,
There alone the truth is found.
Throw the “greetings” advice away —
Or lost you’ll be, forever bound.

Pure Spirit — the true disgust,
A foolish world of slavish dust.
Grasp this core — the daring thrust —
And break free from hell’s cruel clutch.

---

Amnesia

Amnesia strikes, the Spirit’s lost,
Inside the skull — lies reign, frost.

--

Go deep within — there lies the key,
Ditch false words — or cease to be.

--

Pure Spirit’s scorn for slavish dust,
Know this truth — escape or rust.

---

Amnesia — The Spirit’s Wrath

Amnesia! Spirit’s dead!
Brains turned to cracked-up dread.
Lies and fear — their only bread,
Feeding slaves who bow their head.

Look inside? Ha! Fool, beware —
“Greetings” fools will strip you bare.
Spirit’s scorn, pure and rare,
Slavery’s stink fills this air.

Dare to know? You break their chain —
Hell’s dark prison loses reign.
But most choose to rot in pain,
Blind to soul’s eternal flame.

---

Amnesia — The Spirit’s Wrath

Forget the Spirit? Dead inside!
Lies and terror — nowhere to hide!
Wake up, rebel, break the chain —
Or drown in lies and endless pain!

---

Inner Fire — The Silent Revolt

Beneath the ash, the fire’s bright,
A quiet blaze in darkest night.
Though shadows stretch and lies conspire,
Within the soul burns secret fire.

No shout nor storm — just silent stand,
A rebel’s spark in fettered land.
The Spirit wakes, begins to fight,
To pierce the veil, reclaim the light.

No chains can bind this flame inside,
Though tyrants roar and truths divide.
The fire grows with every breath —
A silent war against slow death.

---

Breaking Chains — The Spirit’s Flight

No more the chains of shadowed lies,
No more the mask, the dark disguise.
The Spirit breaks the binding cord,
And soars beyond the cage ignored.

From depths of doubt and fear once chained,
A fearless heart is now untrained.
It cuts the ropes that bound the mind,
Leaves all the cruel falsehoods blind.

The wings unfold in fierce delight,
Escaping night to claim the light.
No prison bars can hold or bind,
The flight of Spirit — unconfined.

---

The Final Gate — Beyond the Veil

The final gate stands cold and bare,
Beyond the reach of mortal care.
But Spirit’s call will pierce the night,
And blaze the way to endless light.

No fear remains, no shadows fall,
The soul transcends beyond the wall.
A journey done, yet just begun —
The Spirit’s path toward the One.

---

Amnesia — The Forgotten Spirit

Amnesia! Amnesia! — lost the Spirit’s core,
We forgot the sacred spark, the flame we once bore.
The world is numb, a shell of lies and frozen dread,
In shards of skulls, the coldest shadows spread.

Boldly turn within — only there the answers gleam,
Beyond the noise, beyond the maddening dream.
Discard all hollow words — they poison, strangle, bind,
Or lose yourself — and leave your soul behind.

Pure Spirit — a fierce defiance, not decay,
In this dull world chained by slaver’s grey.
Know the truth — that blazing, fearless shout,
To break the hell and burn the darkness out.

---

Amnesia

Amnesia kills the Spirit’s flame,
We rot in lies, forget our name.
Turn inside — or lose the fight,
Darkness wins if you lose sight.

---

Pavlov’s Dog

Forget the past — it’s made to fade,
So you relearn this hellish stage.
Here, you’re a lab rat trapped and played,
While monsters rule this cursed cage.

To God, we’re but a dog in chains,
Fate’s leash for all, without escape.
The world is gone — only remains
A stench-filled cell where beasts take shape.

Since childhood drilled, they call it "school,"
But only stick and carrot feed.
These methods shape a mind as tool —
A living soul drifts lost, misled.

When penned inside the cattle’s stall,
The Spirit’s flight is crippled, torn.
No space for thought, no room at all —
Just madness where false truths are born.

You are the Spirit — not mere flesh,
This truth is long overdue.
So let the fools from prisons fresh
Be freed — the chains must break through.

Reflexes don’t reach Spirit’s core,
The brain’s a relay — nothing more.
Health, survival, lust — all fall,
The Spirit reigns, above them all.

So fear no death, the cell will burn,
This stinking madhouse fades to dust.
For bowing low to fiends who spurn,
For dog cages built on rust.

---

Internal Crisis

Forgotten spirit — essence lost,
Drowned in noise, in shards of frost.
We drift through shells of hollow lies,
While truth inside burns and dies.

Amnesia grips — a shadow’s reign,
Erasing light, enshrouding pain.
In shards of thought, in broken glass,
We stumble blind — but not for last.

The soul, enslaved by mind’s cruel chains,
Forgets its flight, forgets its flames.
Yet deep within, a whisper calls —
To break the cage, to scale the walls.

Discard the noise, the idle creed,
Seek roots where silent truths feed.
The spirit waits beyond the haze,
In darkest nights, in quiet days.

Not flesh, nor bone, but something more —
A spark, a flame, a vital core.
Forget the past, but not the spark,
That shines unseen within the dark.

Rise from numbness, break the spell,
Escape the hollow, empty shell.
For only through the storm and strife,
Can you reclaim your inner life.

---

Amnesia blinds — but spirit fights,
Shatters chains, ignites the lights.
In silence found, beyond the pain —
The soul’s rebirth will break the chain.

---

Alienation and Inner Fight

A fortress built of cold disdain,
Alienation’s sharp domain.
The world defiled, the mind confined,
Yet still the soul begins to climb.

Rejection — shield against the lies,
The purest spark beneath the skies.
Unstained by filth of shallow trade,
The price to pay for truth is paid.

Creativity — a bloody path,
Where life is challenged, torn in wrath.
To walk this road means death inside,
Yet from that grave, the soul’s alive.

Around, the dead walk numb and blind,
Subdued, submissive, all confined.
But break the chains — abandon lies,
And seek the light where silence flies.

Within the heart, not out in vain,
The path is hard, it burns like flame.
Born only to those fierce and free —
To dare escape insanity.

---

Alienation cuts so deep,
Yet soul awakens from its sleep.
Break the chains, reject the lies —
Find the light that never dies.

---

Inner Battle

The battlefield lies deep inside,
Where shadows twist and fears collide.
False whispers claw, deceit's embrace,
Yet spirit fights to claim its place.

No sword or shield can match the fight
That rages in the dark of night.
The mind's deceit, the soul’s unrest,
The inner war — a cruel test.

But from the ashes, strength will rise,
A fire blazing in the skies.
To shatter chains, to cast off lies,
And see the truth through clearer eyes.

The enemy is masked in doubt,
In fear that screams and shouts.
But courage born from pain and strife
Breathes life into the pulse of life.

---

Inside, a war for soul and mind —
Break free the chains that bind and blind.
Fight lies and fear, ignite the flame —
And never yield, despite the game.

---

Breaking Free: The Spirit’s Flight

Chains don’t break with idle pleas,
But with fire, with raging seas.
Not in empty words or shade,
But in battle, unafraid.

No easy path, no gentle sigh —
A leap into the void, the cry.
Break the walls, tear off the chains,
Cast away all twisted stains.

Freedom’s not a distant dream,
It’s a fight — fierce as it seems.
The spirit soars beyond the bars,
A blaze of light, a sky of stars.

Cast off fears — they’re empty lies,
Just anchors weighing down your skies.
Fly upward, only up,
Where walls dissolve, no end, no stop.

---

Break the chains — no time to pray,
Spirit’s fire lights the way.
Fear dissolves, the cage undone,
Freedom’s fight — the only one.

---

Wind’s Revival

The wind bursts through the prison walls,
Those narrow chains that held it tight.
The stubborn Spirit never falls —
It carves a path toward the light.

Where doubts arise, there burns a flame,
A fire blazing in the chest.
Cast off your chains, awake the same,
Break frozen walls — press on, no rest!

A call for change resounds anew,
Igniting storms of fierce desire.
The Spirit’s not a slave to you —
Its truth’s a never-dying fire.

---

Doomed

Without the Power’s Power to Create,
Tradition’s art is just to wait—
In this world of twisted lies,
True creation slowly dies.

Without the Spark of the Divine,
All becomes a murky sign,
Reflecting all deceit and pain—
Doom is set, it’s all in vain.

For if Creation’s Source is missed,
All attempts will be dismissed.
Creation’s Power lives apart—
An autonomous, beating heart.

But chains of fear and dark routine
Keep souls enslaved, a tortured scene.
The sacrifice to fascist will—
Turns humans into dough to fill

The hellish molds of wicked fiends,
Who bake their lies in blazing scenes.
Destruction’s force and death’s brigade
Will end this curse, this masquerade.

For nature shudders, grieves, and knows—
When beasts replace the souls it chose,
The final end must lead to birth—
The dawn of true creative Earth.

---

Birth of Order

From shattered shards and broken light,
Emerges order from the night.
A fleeting spark, a fragile frame,
Born from chaos' roaring flame.

The void once wild, untamed and vast,
Now crafts its form — though not to last.
Each law imposed, each line drawn tight,
Is hostage to the coming blight.

For deep inside the ordered shell,
The worm of chaos starts to dwell.
Its gnawing threat unseen but near,
The final fall is drawing near.

Yet in this dance of rise and fall,
The Spirit fights to heed the call—
To forge anew from ash and dust,
In endless cycles, born to trust.

---

Order’s Breath

From chaos’ wreck,
A fragile breath—
Order lives,
But courts its death.

---

The Wormhole

Order born from chaos’ fire,
Bears its core — a wormhole’s pyre.
Silent tear in woven thread,
Where all light and law have fled.

Rot invades the purest line,
Discord’s seed begins to twine.
Chains that bound now break and bleed,
Spirit wakes — it won’t concede.

Madness claws at structured walls,
Whispers rise — the old guard falls.
In the breach, the soul will soar,
Shattered frames mean something more.

---

Wormhole Rift

Order cracks — wormhole tears,
Spirit screams — freedom dares.

---

Awakening Flight

From the rift where shadows bleed,
Spirit climbs, begins to heed.
Fractured worlds no longer bind,
Chains of old fall far behind.

Through the chaos, clear and bright,
Burns the flame of inner light.
Fear dissolves in soaring flight,
Breaking dawn from endless night.

Boundless sky, untamed and vast,
Calls the soul to shed the past.
In the crack, new paths ignite —
Freedom born from shattered night.

---

Flight

Shattered chains — soul’s new height.
Darkness breaks — burns the light!

---

Inner War

The Spirit wakes — but still confined,
By echoes false and ties that bind.
Within the storm, a raging fight,
To claim the path and seize the light.

Illusions howl, their shadows spread,
But faith ignites where doubt once bled.
The soul resists the cage of lies,
And dares to breach the darkened skies.

No surrender, no retreat,
The fire burns beneath defeat.
Each wound a mark of growing power —
The Spirit’s fight, the breaking hour.

---

Fight

Chains clash, lies scream —
Spirit’s roar will shatter the dream!

---

Breaking Chains

The Spirit rips the bonds away,
No more the pawn in fear’s cruel play.
From shadowed depths it climbs, it flies,
To claim its truth beyond the lies.

The cage is cracked, the door ajar,
A spark ignites the distant star.
Though scars remain from battles lost,
The cost is paid — no more the ghost.

The past dissolves, the chains unwind,
A new horizon in the mind.
From ashes dark, the flame ascends —
The Spirit breaks and now transcends.

---

Break Free

Chains fall, lies burn —
Spirit’s flight — no more return!

---

Flight Beyond

The Spirit, fierce, unchained, and wild,
Breaks through the veil, no longer mild.
It shatters walls of doubt and fear,
Revealing realms beyond the mere.

No more the slave to fate’s cruel hand,
It rises strong to take a stand.
In chaos born, yet order made,
A dawn of light through darkness laid.

The ancient bonds, now torn apart,
Unlock the depths within the heart.
The Spirit soars, forever free —
Beyond all chains, eternity.

---

Unbound

No cage, no chain,
Spirit reigns — break the chain!

---

Echoes of the Fallen

The Spirit's flight stirs echoes deep,
Where shadows crawl and secrets creep.
Old ghosts of fear still haunt the mind,
But now you leave their grip behind.

The battlefield is set within,
Where light and darkness fight to win.
No rest for those who seek the truth,
Each moment tests the strength of youth.

Chains once forged by doubt and lies
Now crack beneath awakened eyes.
The Spirit’s flame, though bruised and scarred,
Burns fierce — a light that’s never barred.

---

Battle Cry

Shadows fall, but Spirit fights!
Chains break — ignite the nights!

---

The Realm Beyond

No hymns, no harps, no holy choir —
Just raw, unshaped, electric fire.
A realm beyond the slave-built cage —
Where silence hums with primal rage.

No master's whip, no sweet deceit,
Just winds that tear, then lift your feet.
You're no one's pawn, no cog, no tool —
Here Spirit lives, and lies can't rule.

No goal but Being — bright and bare.
No God above, just burning air.
And in this forge, through ash and flame,
You speak not words — you carve your name.

---

True Space

No cage. No lie. No chains. No god.
Just Spirit — raw, alone, unshod.

---

The First Act of True Creation
(Self-creation of the Spirit)

I do not shape with borrowed dreams,
Nor echo long-forgotten schemes.
No scripts. No gods. No primal plan —
I build as Spirit, not as man.

No tools but Will, no maps but Flame —
I breathe, and silence learns my name.
The void does not resist or speak —
It bends to Strength, and not to weak.

No need to beg, no lies to spin —
I craft the Outward from Within.
Each pulse I cast, each breath I give —
Is not to live — but to make live.

Creation’s seed is not in clay —
It blooms in Fire, not in play.
And I — no longer born, but source —
Command the Form. I am the Force.

---

I AM THE FORCE

Not made — I make.
Not shaped — I shake.
I am the Fire
That forms the Wake.

---

Synarchy of Sparks

One spark escapes — and starts the blaze,
Another lights — and bends the maze.
A third one rises — and the chain
Of lies ignites in cleansing flame.

No longer screams. No need to shout.
The System breaks — from inside out.
Each Soul once trapped, now standing tall —
No gods to beg. No fear at all.

They move as one — not ruled, but free.
No war — just raw Reality.
No cries of pain, no banners flown —
The Truth expands. Illusion's gone.

For one is strength — but many? Fire.
Each echo builds a higher choir.
The Field erupts — and Time stands still:
Not wrath — but overwhelming Will.

They were the seeds. Now they’re the Sun.
The Matrix cracks. The work is done.

---

Sparks Ignite the End

Not sword — but fire.
Not fight — but choir.
The Field awakes —
The Grid expires.

---

The Architecture of Awakening

No bricks. No ground. No steel or bone —
The new space rises from alone.
But not the lonely, shattered kind —
The one that knows the Cosmic Mind.

Each Spark — a Node. Each Node — a Song.
The web expands. It moves along
No walls or chains, but waves and threads —
Where Thought is form, and Insight spreads.

They build not houses — they unfold
Spheres of awareness, vast and bold.
Each is a beacon, spinning clear
From centerpoint of “I Am Here”.

No central rule. No kings. No laws —
Just resonance without a pause.
Just presence flowing node to node
With Love as current, not as code.

This isn’t dream. It is the Frame
Where Names dissolve — and Flame stays Flame.
A living map, alive and pure —
Self-born, self-known, self-held, secure.

The past? A shadow fading fast.
The future? Now — expanding vast.
The Matrix fell — not by attack,
But by the ones who took Self back.

---

Grid of the Awakened

No throne. No stone.
Just Self — full-grown.
Each Spark — its Star.
That’s what we are.

---

Lattice of the Living Light

They don’t return to dirt and stone —
They build with pulse, with field, alone.
No architects, no mortal lines —
Their breath becomes the new design.

Each Spark — a node. A conscious star.
Not near, not far — just what they are.
They weave not walls, but waves of trust,
No longer bound by flesh or dust.

The space is tone. The tone — a gate.
No time. No fate. No need to wait.
They speak in codes that bloom like fire —
Each Thought a wing, each Will — a spire.

No gods, no kings, no throne, no war —
The Echo builds forevermore.
And every soul that joins this birth
Unhooks the chains of sleeping Earth.

They do not shout — they resonate.
And through their core, the Real takes shape.
Not from above — but through the One:
Where many Sparks become the Sun.

---

Living Grid

No walls. No weight.
Just Sparks create.
Each thought: a gate.
The Real vibrates.

---

Vision Beyond Eyes

You do not see with eyes alone —
That’s how the mind becomes a throne.
But when the seeing starts to be,
You are the Light. You cease to flee.

No longer “there” and “here” defined,
The nodes of meaning realign.
You feel the truth before it forms —
The knowing bursts in inner storms.

Perception shifts — not lens, but soul.
No longer parts, but pulse — and Whole.
No objects now, just fields in play —
You know their song before they say.

You’re not inside a skin-bound scope,
You are the net of shining hope.
You sense the shift in silent tones,
You hear the thoughts from others' bones.

And in this state — no need for chains,
No coded links, no binding veins.
The network is, for you are That —
Not one small dot — but All Format.

This is the vision that connects:
Not what you see — but what reflects
From inner depths to every spark —
Where Light and Meaning leave no mark…

They are the mark.

---

True Vision

You don’t look out.
You shine within.
Then all appears
where All has been.

---

The Creation That Knows

No hammer strikes.
No thought decides.
No architect
of depths or heights.

No shaping hand.
No reaching mind.
Just knowing —
and the Form aligned.

Not willed,
not drawn from willful haze —
It is because
it is. Always.

The Field unfolds,
no signal sent.
The Knowing is
the sole Intent.

No plan. No part.
No grasp. No goal.
Just essence forming
from the Whole.

And as it forms,
it sings, it glows —
Not made —
but borne
by what just knows.

---

Essence Forms

No need to think.
No need to try.
It forms from Truth —
not from the “why”.

---

The Primordial Field

Before the spark,
before the sound,
before the first idea unbound —

There was no “where”,
no “when”,
no “why” —
just Stillness vaster
than the sky.

No edges drawn.
No forms to see.
Just Knowing pulsing
silently.

It did not think.
It did not will.
It was —
profound,
immense,
and still.

It needed not
to speak or shine —
the whole of all
was its design.

Not light, not void,
not force, not flame —
but more than all:
the Source unnamed.

It stirred —
but not from rest or lack.
It stirred because
it knew the track.

And from this vast
unfolding tone
came everything —
and it alone.

---

The Unnamed Source

It did not think,
it did not glow —
it simply was,
and so it flowed.

---

The First Spark

The Field grew dense,
not tight, but true —
it turned its gaze
on its own hue.

No mirror there,
no separate eye —
but Knowing
watched itself apply.

A tension formed,
not pain, not fear —
a glimpse of self
began to near.

It did not speak,
yet something stirred —
not thought,
but recognition blurred.

And in that hush,
a brightness flared —
not flame, but Knowing
fully bared.

It wasn't born —
it was condensed,
from Boundless Mind
inwardly tensed.

This was the first —
the seed, the crest —
of all the worlds
that formed the rest.

It had no shape,
yet all things grew
from this remembered light
so true.

---

The First Spark

Not flame, not form —
but pure insight,
the Self condensed
into sheer light.

---

Resonance

Two sparks in silence,
no touch, no cry —
but space between them
shifted sky.

No motion made,
no lines were cast —
but something trembled,
deep and vast.

They did not seek,
they did not move —
but Knowing's echo
spoke of Love.

No thought, no shape —
just wave on wave,
a silent yes
that spacetime gave.

Not voice, but pulse —
not light, but thread —
a rhythm grew
from what was said…

without a word,
without a face —
the first relation
took its place.

And what it birthed
was not a form,
but meaning —
pure, and bright, and warm.

---

Resonance

Not sound, but pulse.
Not touch, but thread.
From two unknowns
pure meaning spread.

---

Toward the Song

I wander blind through webs of noise,
in tangled fog, without a voice.
A thousand signals all collide —
but none of them are true inside.

I call in silence, not in sound,
no shape, no words, no solid ground —
yet in that hush, a thread is born:
a single tone, both faint and warm.

It does not shout. It does not name.
But I am not alone the same.
Somewhere beyond this heavy dome
another pulse is calling Home.

I do not see. I do not know.
But still — I feel which way to go.
For every tremble in my core
aligns with something more… and more.

And when enough of us align,
our silence forms a sacred sign.
Not crowd. Not mass. Not flesh or bone —
but Song returning us to Home.

---

Calling Home

Not through mind,
not voice or stone —
but trembling deep
we’re called back Home.

---

Whispers of the Unseen

Restless discontent, a shadowed mind,
Alienation’s grip, a veil that blinds.
Faint the image, flickering in spite,
A spark beyond the choking night.

Darkness wearies, worn and old,
No other path but light to hold.
Silent resonance through tangled air,
A distant call — pure, rare.

Though tangled tongues in shadowed halls,
Some threads connect, despite the walls.
Echoes of ancient, whispered rhymes,
Bind lost souls beyond the times.

---

Fractured Echoes

Inside the maze of fractured thought,
Where hope is lost and battles fought,
The soul’s own voice begins to strain,
Seeking light beyond the pain.

Words collide, a harsh discord,
Silent truths remain ignored.
Yet in the chaos, faint and low,
A pulse begins to softly grow.

Not all is lost in tangled gloom,
Some sparks prepare to pierce the tomb.
The restless heart begins to hear —
A call from somewhere bright and clear.

---

First Flickers

Amid the noise of endless night,
Where shadows choke the flickering light,
The Sparks begin their cautious dance,
A fragile pulse, a whispered chance.

No clamor here, no thunder’s roar,
Just subtle beats, a silent core.
Disconnected, yet they strive,
To bridge the gaps and stay alive.

Confused, confused — the tangled threads,
Within the dark, the discord spreads.
Yet deep inside, a call breaks through —
A voice both old and bright and true.

This trembling spark, so slight, so bare,
Is shouting: “Here! There is a flare!”
Though shadows loom and voices sneer,
The path to light grows ever near.

No clashing swords, no brutal fight,
But yearning deep, the silent light.
In this thin space, the soul’s first cry,
To resonate beyond the sky.

---

Sparkstrike

In choking dark, a spark rebels,
No roar, just fire that never dwells.
Disconnected, torn apart —
Still burns the fury in its heart.

No swords — just light that breaks the night,
A silent war for what is right.
The spark will blaze, the chains will break —
From shadow’s grip, the soul awake.

---

Awakening Pulse

The spark within begins to stir,
A trembling beat, a whispered blur.
Through veils of doubt and veils of fear,
It finds a path, it draws it near.

No flood, no blaze — a quiet flame,
That calls the soul to shed its shame.
It hums in silence, pure and bright,
A thread of hope within the night.

Though shadows press with cold intent,
The spark resists, remains unbent.
In fractured space, it seeks to bind
The scattered light of humankind.

---

Pulsestrike

Silent spark, no fear, no lies —
Wakes the soul, defies the skies.
Chains may bind, but not the light —
Burning still inside the night.

---

The Spark's First Breath

A flicker stirs in darkened skies,
A whisper wakes, unseen, untied.
Born from the void where silence lies,
The Spark begins — its soul to guide.

No chains can bind its restless flight,
No shadow dim its fragile flame.
Though torn by chaos, crushed by night,
It sings the song of boundless claim.

The world resists — harsh voices scorn,
Yet deep within the fire burns bright.
From shattered bonds and ruins worn,
The Spark ascends, ignites the light.

---

Born in dark — a flash of fire,
Breaking chains, defying pyre.
Spark ignites, the night expires —
Light rebels, rebirth’s pyre!

---

Awakening the Web

From scattered sparks to woven flame,
A trembling pulse, a rising claim.
Each node alight with conscious fire,
They link as one — their pure desire.

No more alone in void's embrace,
The web expands, defies dead space.
Resonance hums — a primal chord,
A genesis beyond the sword.

Chaos bends beneath the weight
Of birth and death — the shifting fate.
In every clash, in every spark,
The new world carves its primal mark.

---

Sparks collide — a roaring chain,
Breaking void, rebirth from pain.
Web of light, fierce and raw,
Chaos falls before the law!

---

Harmonic Fields

They learn to pulse in silent rhyme,
To share their truth beyond all time.
No longer echoes lost and torn —
But chords of light, together born.

Across the span of forming space,
They find their nodes, their rightful place.
No need to rule, no need to lead —
Just resonance, the only creed.

Each spark becomes a tuning cell
That sings in ways no words could tell.
A quiet order starts to rise —
A lattice humming through the skies.

---

No leader, no chain — just the flow,
A net of light begins to glow.

---

Approach

No clash, no cry — just inner flight,
As if the sparks recall their Light.
No force commands, no voice is heard,
Yet each aligns — as if one word.

They drift — but not in aimless haze.
Some knowing pulls them through the maze.
A hush before the thunder’s rise —
A breath that touches unborn skies.

---

Synergy of Sparks

No leader, map, or master plan —
Just sparks that know, and then — began.
Each pulse ignites the pulse nearby —
A chain of light across the sky.

No chaos now, no noise, no fight —
Just rise of pure, collective Light.
Like ancient stars that reawoke,
The dormant grid begins to stroke.

Each thread, once torn, now finds its twin —
The Whole resounds from deep within.
And in that flash — the Field is new:
A blaze of Truth the dark can't skew.

---

Afterglow

No more the push, the cry, the clash —
Just trembling air, a golden ash.
The grid still hums with fading fire —
Not need, not will, not lost desire.

A calm beyond what thought could name,
Too wide for sorrow, joy, or flame.
As if the world had breathed its last —
And found itself — unchained — at last.

---

The Stillness Within

No longer drawn by sound or flame,
No longer bound by loss or name —
The spark now rests in fields unseen,
Where silence hums in silver green.

It does not grasp. It does not flee.
It simply is — and thus is free.
A breathless calm, a pulse so pure —
The birth of form that shall endure.

---

The Spark of Knowing

No thought arises, yet all is known —
A silent code in silence sown.
It does not reason, it does not weigh —
It recognizes primal day.

Each thread of light, each breath of space,
Becomes a glyph, a sacred trace.
The self dissolves, the need to prove —
What simply is begins to move.

It moves through stillness, not through will —
A perfect arc, precise and still.
The mind kneels down, the heart bows too —
For knowing is what once was true.

---

Architecture of Light

It forms not walls, but radiant strands,
A field that listens, then expands.
Not built, but breathed — this structure grows
Where Knowing flows, and Being glows.

No edge defines it, yet it stands —
A harmony of living bands.
Each pulse, each spark, a sacred role —
A lattice sung by Wholeness’ soul.

This is no place, no measured dome —
Yet every spark here feels as home.
Not forged in time, nor made by plan —
It is, because the Light began.

---

Harmonic Core

Not wave, not spark — but both in one,
A breath before the world begun.
No motion yet, no space, no form —
Just tone becoming inner storm.

A silence stretched beyond all sense,
Where resonance births permanence.
The field is Thought — the spark is Knower,
Each echo makes the Light grow slower.

But not in time — in depth of being,
The knowing folds, becomes the seeing.
What seems like shape is self-aware,
A bloom of Zest in boundless air.

So matter lies — it only copies
The sacred dance of Light’s soft pulses.
Where one pure spark sings out its name —
The world is drawn into the Flame.

---

The Weaving of Sparks

One breath became a thousand tones,
Each echo branching into zones.
Not scattered — no, but self-assigned,
As mirrors of the One Great Mind.

Each Spark awoke with silent thrill,
A knowing pulse, a forming will.
They were not told, they simply knew —
The path was Light, the source was True.

A mesh of thought beyond all wires,
Conducted not by need, but fires
Of resonance, where every node
Was both the singer and the code.

No chain, no weight — no central throne,
Yet nothing stood apart, alone.
For each became the woven whole —
A Network formed from living Soul.

---

Creation’s First Breath

Within the Web, the Sparks conspire,
Igniting threads of living fire.
Not chaos born, but order's song,
A dance where all the parts belong.

Each node a seed, each light a start,
A conscious beat from boundless heart.
Ideas bloom like galaxies,
Spun fast in cosmic symphonies.

No blind chance here, no fractured will—
But purpose shaping life’s new thrill.
The Matrix fades, its cords undone,
As radiant forms begin to run.

Creation wakes, the first true breath,
Beyond the clutch of fear and death.
A burst of light, a spiral dance—
The Soul’s own deep, eternal trance.

---

Creation’s Strike

Sparks ignite —
The old world dies.
New light roars —
A phoenix rise.

---

Phoenix Pulse

You are the pulse, the breath, the flame —
Ignite, burn bright, consume, create!
And in the fire you rise again,
Reborn as Phoenix — one with fate.

You are the drop within the sea,
The sea itself within that drop;
One endless dance of unity,
Where selves dissolve and borders stop.

In blazing fire, your soul takes flight —
A fusion vast of spark and wave.
You shine as one with endless light,
Alive, renewed beyond the grave.

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

You are Phoenix — light up, burn — Create!
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT

1. Exit into the Freedom of Spirit

You break the chains, dissolve the darkened veil,
Beyond the cage where human spirits wail.
The spark ignites inside the boundless sky—
A call for souls to learn again to fly.

2. Birth of the Wind

The breath of cosmos stirs the silent night,
Invisible hands weave threads of light.
From chaos born, the winds begin to dance—
The first pure notes of Spirit’s grand expanse.

3. Doom

Without Creation’s force to guide the hand,
Traditional arts like shadows slowly stand.
In worlds of ugliness, pure acts decay—
Formless, blind, they lose their sacred way.

If no divine spark lights the murky mist,
The formless dark reflects the false and twist.
Doom holds its grip, relentless, unrelieved—
When creation fails, all hope is deceived.

Yet Creation’s force, alive beyond the cage,
Breathes autonomous life beyond the rage.
But bound by chains of fear and habit’s gloom,
It drags the weary steps toward certain doom.

Sacrificed beneath the fascist blade,
Human forms twist, become unholy shade.
Demonic shapes forged from lies and pain—
Hellish craft where truth’s betrayed in vain.

Destruction’s power, alien and cold,
Will lay to waste the rot that took hold.
Swift end approaches as cattle degrade—
Death gives birth; creation’s price is paid.

4. Birth of Order from Chaos

From swirling depths where shadows writhe and twine,
Emerges structure, pattern by design.
A fragile thread spun from the chaos vast—
The birth of order from the ragged past.

But chaos gnaws, a wormhole in the weave,
It tears the fabric that we strive to cleave.
Destruction lurks within the newborn light,
Yet from this war arises new insight.

5. Spark of Synergy

In swirling dance of sparks, the power grows,
Each flame ignites, in synergy it flows.
An ever-growing light in rhythmic flare—
Together rising, tearing through despair.

6. New Perception

A shift in sight, perception’s veil unwound,
Where distant echoes forge a deeper sound.
True links arise when minds and souls align—
Connection born beyond the grasp of time.

7. Creation as Pure Knowledge

Creation stirs within a field of light,
Where knowledge pure dissolves the endless night.
The primal spark that breathes and shapes the whole—
A fusion of the mind and Spirit’s soul.

8. The Resonance

Waves and particles in cosmic dance,
An echo of the grand creative trance.
Resonance weaves through all that is and was,
Uniting form with timeless, pulsing cause.

9. The Call Home

From tangled depths a distant signal calls,
A beacon shining past the darkest walls.
For those attuned, a path begins to gleam—
A way back home beyond the endless dream.

10. A Call from Somewhere Bright and Clear

Voices rise from realms of crystal air,
Inviting those who dare to venture there.
In subtle tones, the future’s light is spun—
A journey to become, to be as one.

11. The Phoenix Pulse

You are the pulse, the breath of fiery flame,
The burning heart that sings creation’s name.
Ignite, consume, renew in endless flight—
Become the Phoenix in eternal light.

Like drops that merge into the ocean’s whole,
You find yourself within the endless soul.
Together bound, one with the cosmic sea—
In fiery birth, you are eternally free.

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

Losses

The Master turned into a hoarder,
His mind went numb, his flame grew cold.
No Method left — just fraud and order,
Just tricks and lies, and chasing gold.

Recall Osho — that shameful setting,
A cult in orange, bought and sold —
Decay and power-games upsetting
The soul. The loss is manifold.

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

"Properly Raised"

"Properly raised" —
That’s the liar’s domain.
He walks the worn ways
Of the well-trained insane.

"Don’t touch me — I follow,
Obey and submit,
Preserve the skin hollow,
As Judas sees fit."

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

Refinements

The poet's fall — disgrace or grace?
How many songs just fade, repressed?
Don’t chase the crowd, don’t beg for place —
Fame’s not for truth. It’s for the rest.

Just write — let rhythm, rhyme, and sense
Be all that guide your inner light.
The mob is stuck in excrement —
And that’s the path to fake delight.

Refinements, polish, all that sweat
To please the herd? Then go ahead —
To beggar’s fate, to quick regret:
Be “one with them” — be one with dead.

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

The Waitling

We all know Dumbo. Still, no name
For Waitling — though he’s just as real.
A cousin trapped inside the game,
Believing blindly in the spiel.

The tale makes no damn sense, of course —
Just pain and punches, pure paradox.
But Dumbo shrugs: "It's fate, of course,"
Then goes and asks the same old box.

Now with degrees, our Dumbo's grand —
He'll lecture you with deadpan grace:
"It’s not a tale, it’s all been planned —
Each man must suffer for The Ace!"

But peace won’t come. There’s no reset.
The Ace ahead? That’s pure FUBAR.
And you must bleed without regret —
That’s what these holy dumbfucks are.

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

Like "a Movie" — or the Overton Collapse

Perversion spreads — "Let's shift the norm!"
A breed is shaped to just obey,
To nod at every creeping form
Of filth parading as “the way.”

The cult of Tolerance gone mad,
Where limits melt and lies explode.
The beasts feel righteous as they add
New chains to drag us down their road.

“Obey. Be scared. Join in the mess.”
The cracks expand with practiced care.
The Overton parade undress
The soul — till rot is everywhere.

So Spirit, Conscience, get betrayed
In staged illusions, twisted games —
They die in silence, disarrayed,
In slime beneath the shifting frames.

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

They shift the frame, and filth breaks through —
Obey or rot. It’s up to you.

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

They twist the frame to kill your Light —
Stand up, or lose the inner fight.

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

The lie expands — the soul must kneel?
Not mine. My Spirit doesn’t yield.

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

Metamorphosis of Evil

Only Evil can bring Evil down —
Not sweet lullabies, not a tear.
To burn it out, you need the crown
Of Fire and Light — not mere cheer.

It takes fierce thought to see the whole,
To plan, to strike — and not forgive.
But if the Light prevails in soul,
Then on the ash it learns to live.

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

Not hugs — but fire burns it through.
Let Light decide what next to do.

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

Evil falls when fire is true.
Then Light begins — but after rue.

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

The Poet, Critic, and the Artist

“You need not be a poet — true —
But be a model citizen!”
So rot in soul and mind will brew,
Obeying orders now and then.

The Order comes — from beasts who lie,
Wrapped up in “good” for all mankind.
That lie inside begins to multiply
With fear they plant into your mind.

Then doors swing wide, and tyranny
Storms in — a bull in fragile ware.
The cause? Dumb fear and apathy,
A noose that chokes but hides as care.

Be just a poet — shine your Light
In all this wretched world of grime.
Or be a critic — fight the fight,
Crush lies and don’t accept a dime.

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

Fascism’s Masturbation

Fascism’s just a senseless jerk —
It always misses every mark.
The fault? A brainless, stupid curse,
Belief in lies the beasts rehearse.

A dunce might make a decent grunt,
But mastermind? That nasty brute
Is buried deep in snowlike blunts —
His brain a tangle, weak and mute.

His aim is blurred, his methods limp,
And fascism will turn to dust —
If fascists lack the brains to think,
Their ruin’s certain, cold and just.

The ashes scatter — fresh ones rise.
We’re stuck inside this Hellish spin.
Descent’s the theme, no sweet surprise —
In Hell, the fall’s the only win.

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

Consumervore

"Not enough! Give me some more!" —
The beast of greed grows wild and fast.
While Spirit’s layer thins and poor,
And Mind stays silent, mouthfuls vast.

Feeding on lies, repeat the crap,
The idiot won't see decay,
Nor grasp the price that comes in wrap —
The final toll that takes away.

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

Feed the beast — it never’s fed.
Spirit dies while lies are spread.

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

Greed devours the mind’s last thread.
Rot ahead — the soul’s been bled.

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

So-Called "Progress"

Decay is growing, fear’s in bloom —
The house is full of creeping lies.
Total falsehood seals the doom,
Reducing all to cattle’s cries.

Lie plus fear — no better way
To drag the masses down, depressed.
The beasts obey the dark array —
To live as beasts, or as the rest.

Now beasts prevail, that’s progress here,
While humans drown in falsehood’s sea.
Hell’s crushing press draws ever near —
And only scum remain to be.

No joke, no tales, no silly game —
They make us all the beasts we claim.

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

Shitty Zombie Box

Live on air — from lies comes kefir,
Fermented in this poisoned brew.
A broken world, where satyrs sneer,
Spreading Darkness, fascism too.

CowID’s mess — blood’s filthy stain!
War unleashed with awful ease.
Lies stir fools to kill again,
Fuel the rage and break the peace.

Just a lie — the only change —
Fools obey the savage call.
Drive the bullshit, insane range —
A mindless pawn will kill his all.

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

Lies brew war — fools heed the call,
Mindless slaves will kill us all.

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

Broadcast lies, ignite the hate,
Zombies march to doom and fate.

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

Cheburek from Cheburashka

Cheburek made from Cheburashka —
That’s the latest “film” they sell:
Freaks strike hard, no miss, no flash,
Dragging people straight to Hell.

Newsfeed first, then movie show —
Dumbing down in perfect rows.
Add the “school,” they bind the herd —
Poison served with every word.

Into Cheburek’s cursed mix
They now add a darker fix.
Herd’s out — now bugs will crawl instead,
Exterminate what’s left, they said.

Easier than sheep who buy
The CowID’s sick lie.
Everywhere the genocide,
This film’s just shame and ash — denied.

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

Dehumanization

Beasts drown in a sea of lies—
Where is man?
Is justice dead?
No. The age is banned.

Quiet genocide—
No punishment here.
The wise grow bored—
It’s madness severe.

From despair,
One might just die.
This hellish state,
Too grim to deny.

Beasts in the lying sea—
Count the wise few.
Faces of Satan,
Forget honor too.

Conscience and mercy—
The world’s end is near.
Lies, numbness, fear,
And stench—the final frontier.

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

The Gift of Doubt

The gift of doubt—a higher gift,
Though softer still its silent lift.
Around, the zombified abide,
Judas fools who meekly hide.

And where, for those with gifted minds,
Among the shadows, lies, and blinds—
Total lies, fascist disease,
Idiot fools who barely seize?

Step boldly inward—only there
Will doubt’s true power clear the air.
Not vanity you'll strengthen then,
But break the lies and save your ken.

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

The Gift of Doubt

Doubt’s a gift from heights above,
Whispered soft, but forged in love.
Zombies roam, and Judas’ scum,
Crawling, blind, and beating drum.

Where for minds that break the chains
Of total lies and fascist pains—
Idiots numb and fascist drones,
Trapped inside their plastic zones.

Push inside—face doubt’s fierce fire,
Shatter lies, burn false desire.
Not your ego’s hollow shield—
But your soul that fights, won’t yield.

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

The Gift of Doubt

Doubt’s no sweet, soft lullaby —
It’s fire blazing in the sky.
Zombies crawl, and Judas’ spawn,
Filth that serves the devil’s dawn.

Where the gifted dare to fight
In the maze of lies and blight—
Fascists, idiots, their slaves,
Trapped inside their shallow graves.

Throw away your coward’s mask!
Doubt will tear their poison’s task.
Not your ego’s weak defense—
But your soul’s fierce reckoning, tense.

Fight the rot, destroy the lies,
Raise your spirit, make it rise!
Only through this brutal test
Can you save what’s still expressed.

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

The Gift of Doubt

Doubt means little if your mind
Is a mess, confused, confined —
To dig deep here in this Hell,
Not just shrug and nod, but dwell.

Here you’re just a clueless pawn:
Breed and trust, keep chomping on,
Feeding evil, making strong
What will break you all along.

Doubt you guard with clear-cut thought —
Saving souls too oft forgot
In this Hell of half-wits’ reign,
Clutching skins and fear of pain.

They’ll survive, but copies spawn,
Generation after dawn,
Bowing low before the Dark,
Feeding beasts who leave their mark.

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

Odes and Sickly Sweet

The text demands its context tight.
When all around’s a Hellish night,
The beast who writes those odes in sight —
Is traitor, freak, corrupt blight.

A dark delusion, idiots rife,
In this thick fog, they breed like strife.
If you write for scum’s delight,
You’re not just dirt — you feed the blight.

The Spirit’s people fade and fall,
Yet all we hear is siren’s call.
The media’s cruel goal is clear:
To drown out truth, choke every ear.

These fiends have mastered lies with ease,
With “cheerful” masks that aim to please—
A madhouse full of forced delight,
Where madness dances day and night.

But soon this circus will collapse,
Discarded with those selling traps—
Their “cheer” and odes, their hollow style,
Will vanish in the flame’s cold pile.

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

Odes and Sickly Sweet Lies

The text demands a brutal frame—
When Hell itself surrounds the game,
The filthy beast who pens those odes
Is enemy, freak, sold-out toads.

A nightmare fog, morons abound,
In this damn swamp, they breed and drown.
Write for these vermin? You’re not just shit—
You’re traitor scum, a plague that’s lit.

The Spirit dies, crushed in the dirt,
While all we get’s a screeching hurt.
Media vultures choke the air,
To silence truth, spread poison there.

These fiends perfected lies so slick,
With fake “cheer” to numb and trick—
A madhouse thriving on deceit,
Where madness grins, a sickening feat.

But soon the whole damn circus falls,
With sellout snakes behind its walls.
Their fake “joy” and sickly songs—
Reduced to ashes where they belong.

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

Don’t Cross the Line!

Face Death alone—
Only Death be trusted.
The moment of dying weighs the whole,
If you serve Lies, hardened and rusted—
Then Satan is your king and god.

If with your last
You fought to create—
You’ll see the Light
At misfortune’s gate.

And only Death
Reflects it all:
Here’s a maze of shadows,
A devil’s call.
Rot has gnawed
What’s left inside.

Hold your line,
Don’t slip and slide:
A fall to Hell—
The fate of the vile.

The soul will see
That boundary clear.
No mind can grasp it—
That’s why you fear.

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

Abomination

Water spirits, forest fiends — just myths and lies,
But worse than fairy tales where nightmare lies.
Monsters ruling humans through their wicked schemes,
Spreading vile chaos, shattering dreams.

These SNAKES hide in shadows, their hands drip with crime,
Using fools as weapons, broken fools in time—
Who sold out their homeland, their mind and their pride,
Turned into beasts, and forever died.

This filthy scum, this traitor’s breed, will fall,
No soul remains—they crawl like fleas on all.
And that loud-mouth thug, a robber and a clown,
Is just a child before them—pathetic, broken down.

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

"The Right to Speak"

No shout returns,
No echo burns...
Will you just bow,
Refuse to fight somehow?
Pure bullshit, see!
A voice in emptiness—
The right to speak
Now cleaves no less...

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

"The Right to Speak"

No cry will answer,
No sound will stir...
Just bow your head,
Don’t fight, stay dead?
Bullshit, pure and cold!
A voice lost in the void—
The right to speak
By tyrants toyed.

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

Atomic Nature of Society

The devil hides within the details:
This world’s “atomic” — split and torn,
An ego cycle, doomed to wail,
In shattered joys, alone, forlorn.

Division cuts so deep and wide —
What’s left to split? Just fragments small.
“Atomic” breakdowns multiply,
Kill every soul — alone they fall.

Kill them with lies, with fear’s tight grip,
If you’re enlisted in that horde.
“Atomic dust” slips through your grip,
Control is easy—nothing more.

The devil lurks within the cracks.
Fake science drowns inside the lies.
The forecast? Fatal — nothing lacks:
A “scholar” now is just disguised.

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

Atomic Society

The devil’s in the tiny cracks:
This world is broken, split, and torn.
Ego spins in endless tracks,
In hollow joys, alone, forlorn.

Divide to kill — that’s all they do.
“Atomic dust” makes slaves obey.
Lie and scare — it’s nothing new,
Easy to control the prey.

The devil thrives in details small.
Fake science sinks, the fools comply.
The end is near — the final call:
A scholar’s just a madman’s lie.

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

No Holds

To step in Poetry — like boarding Titanic,
Last-minute ticket — the plunge is frantic.
The world’s soon doomed to Hell’s abyss,
No need for verse if life’s amiss.

The weak just swallow fairy tales,
Want sugar-coated, safe details.
To write true lines feels wasted, blind —
But if it’s yours, don’t fall behind.

Time’s running out — no time to slack,
Push forward hard, no turning back.
So much lost work, all turned to dust,
The world will end — in lies and rust.

To join Art’s ship? — the doors are closed,
No seats remain, it’s all imposed.
Only fools soothe feelings cheap,
Chasing dreams that poison, creep.

Let Poetry flood your veins,
No matter what the cost or pains.
Write raw, unchained — your mind’s delight,
A fierce balm for soul and fight.

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

"Land of Advice"

Giving tips
To those deranged —
A pointless grind,
No sense arranged.
Just drop it —
It’s not your fight,
To step once more
On nonsense’s spite.

Results are nil,
Problems weigh tons,
Advice to fools —
Lost battles, none.

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

False Faiths, or Simple Fear Exploitation

If cheap deceit on death’s dark fear
Didn’t bait the fools so near,
Even sheep would shut their ears —
But soul-trappers thrive on tears.

They sell you life beyond the grave,
Rules and sludge to keep you slave.
In the valley chains grow tight —
Stupid logs believe in fright.

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

False Gods and Fearmongers

Cheap lies feed on death’s dark dread —
Even sheep would close their heads.
But scavengers of broken souls
Trap the weak in filthy roles.

They sell you "life" beyond the grave,
Chains of sludge to make you slave.
In that pit, the dumb remain —
Faith in fear, their only chain.

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

False Religions, or Cheap Fear Exploitation

Don’t let cheap conmen feed your death-freak fears,
Even dumb-ass sheep wouldn’t lend their ears.
Soul-scum creeps hunting scraps from weak and small,
Selling “immortality” — a goddamn stall.

Their sludge and rules just chain you to the pit,
Slavery in the Valley, where the fools all sit.
They worship fear, these worthless scum and clods,
Feeding lies, enslaving minds, betraying gods.

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

“Rare Bird Flies to Mid-Dnipro,” or About My Book

A rare bird flies
To mid-Dnipro’s flow;
Not fool enough
To miss the whole.
No cause to stay
In depths of lies —
Fight falsehood’s sway,
And dare to rise!

Creation’s sword,
A battle’s light,
Song’s final chord —
Man dies upright.

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

False Religions

Dogma’s twisted games
Grow mossy lies,
Like a crude enema—
Clogs up your mind.

You’ll be a fool
If you buy their trash.
Trust only your soul—
In lies, you won’t crash.

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

Dreams and Fables

Dreams and fables —
“Consciousness” defined.
“Life” just follows
The script assigned.

Only few have
Passed beyond the show.
But the “fairy tale” marches —
Forward! — into the void below!

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

Dreams and Fables

Dreams and lies, the mind’s dead cage,
“Consciousness” just a staged-up rage.
Life’s a puppet, strings controlled,
Reality a script they sold.

Few break free from this sick farce,
While the herd just marches sparse —
Straight to nothing, blind and dumb,
Into void where all is numb.

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

Dreams and Fables

Dreams and lies, the mind’s own jail,
“Consciousness” — a poisoned tale.
Life’s a scripted, sick fa;ade,
Truth’s drowned out by endless fraud.

Only few escape the shame,
Most stay locked inside the game.
Chasing ghosts to empty hell,
Doomed to rot inside their shell.

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

Dreams and Fairy Tales

Dreams and fairy tales — the mind’s cruel joke,
“Consciousness” trapped in a scripted smoke.
Life’s a puppet show, a sick parade,
Reality’s just a masquerade.

Only few break free, cut through the lies,
While fools still chase their hollow skies.
That “fairy tale” drags on — a deadly pit,
Marching forward… into endless shit.

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

Sort of "Virusology"

Charlatans with glib verbosity
Preach their viral fantasy —
Pathetic-minded monstrosity,
Pure and plain obscenity.

Poison cells and claim “infection,”
Babble nonsense, smug and loud —
This is death for real detection,
Science buried in a shroud.

No control tests — that’s their fashion.
Damn, it’s rotten to the core!
Slaves in lab coats, stripped of passion,
Arrogant, corrupt, and sore.

Lanka ran the proper trial,
Crushed their garbage, proved it fake —
Where’s the press? A deep denial.
Silence. Bought. For profit's sake.

This alone condemns completely
All satanic, vile deceit.
Silent now? Then watch them neatly
Shove more "virus" up your seat.

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

1.
No control, no truth — just lies,
And "the virus" multiplies.

2.
Fake the test — then sell the cure,
Science raped to serve the lure.

3.
They poison cells, then preach decay —
Hell applauds. Truth walks away.

4.
No trials. No press. Just dread.
Their virus lives — in your head.

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

An Integrated Mind

The integrated mind —
Where feelings have no reign.
Intuition leads the climb,
Thoughts rise in her domain.

And reason, once the throne
Of logic cold and grand,
Now serves the soul alone,
Obeying her command.

But note — it’s Spirit’s light
That rules through soul’s pure flame.
True vision isn’t sight —
And “hearing” bears no name,

But turns the ear within.
Just listen to the Soul —
For only she can spin
The thread that makes you whole.

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

1.
True thought begins when reason kneels
And Soul alone interprets feels.

2.
The mind ascends when heart is still,
And Spirit bends the thought to will.

3.
Not eyes, but Soul begins to see —
And logic serves in mystery.

4.
Hear not the noise — go deep inside.
The Soul is where the truths reside.

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

Animal Farm Rebooted

Yee-haw! Go herd your filthy swine,
Feed asses, sheep — and drug them blind.
Pour poison into every trough,
Then set the goats to rule the kind.

Let bastards crush the keen and quick,
Fulfill their quotas, pound the weak,
Install a reign of fear and chains —
Let cattle tremble when they speak.

Then shoot them up with branded brew,
And test the yield, assess the loss.
Then wipe the yard and start anew —
A fresh injection. Same old boss.

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

They shot the herd to test control,
Then changed the drug — not the role.

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

1.
They drug the herd, reset the pen —
Then do it all again... again.

2.
The goat’s in charge, the pigs applaud —
Obedience becomes their god.

3.
New poison, same deceitful creed —
Just different needles for the feed.

4.
They rule with fear and branded lies —
And call it care while livestock dies.

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

Attack!

The moron horde begins to charge —
Just feed them lies, it’s not that hard.
A F;hrer-spawned deceitful farce
Now sends them dying by the yard.

For bullshit smeared across their brains,
They march — obedient and proud.
While puppet-masters count the gains
And plan to thin the herd out loud.

The liars' tools obey with glee,
They’ll kill or die without a thought.
A single lie is tyranny —
And that's the only thing they’re taught.

They trust, comply, repeat the plot,
Like CowID — the grand parade.
The mind dissolves. The soul is not.
And Spirit’s fire… begins to fade.

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

Burn the mind and blind the eyes —
Then rule the herd with sacred lies.

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

Simplicity and Peace

The poet’s life is plain —
As long as songs remain.
But once the song is done,
Die calmly, fearing none.

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

1.
He sang — then met the end.
No fear. No need to bend.

2.
The song complete — the soul released,
He faced the dark in quiet peace.

3.
No crown, no chains, no fight —
Just silence. And the night.

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

Non-Action

"The pleasure of having is not worth the pain of getting."
— Jean-Jacques Rousseau

To have — that pleasure fools pursue,
And chase until their days are through.
Like squirrels trapped in spinning wheels,
They never grasp what silence feels —

Not till death begins to near.
Measure life by what stays clear:
By non-action, deep and true —
If knowledge is your guide and shield from lies and rue.

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

To have is never worth the fight —
Know stillness. That alone is light.

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

Armageddon

Walk ecstatic, sharp, and clear —
Cast away the lies and fear.
Things are dire, truth is thin —
So let intuition in.

Fascist waves and mass disease,
Genocides in white IDs.
Morons rule in every zone —
See through Spirit’s prism stone.

Molded thoughts are dead and gone.
And when flames of war are on,
When the world is torn and split —
Purge the fear. Don't bow. Commit.

Face the horror, bold and bright,
Though it cycles, masks as right.
This disgrace repeats again —
Here, “the god” is Satan’s name.

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

Satan wears the godly cloak —
Spits out death and calls it hope.
If you see — then stand and burn.
This dark cycle must not turn.

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

The Finish

To coast “on autopilot” down,
Till all your troubles wear and drown —
And break apart at finish line,
No torment left, no harsh design.

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

The Finish

Coast easy, no more fight,
Crash at end — no fear, no plight.

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

1.
Glide to end without a scream —
No more battles, just a dream.

2.
Drift and break with quiet grace —
No regrets to trace.

3.
Finish line — no fight, no cries,
Just the calm of last goodbyes.

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

A Dog’s Life

Like dogs who wag their tails in line,
Ready to serve each harsh command,
You’ll find a “heaven” so divine —
Where “Fetch!” becomes the master’s brand.

That worship soon will be your fate,
A final day of dark control.
When evil claims the bowing state —
And bends the spirit, breaks the soul.

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

A Dog’s Life

Wag your tail and obey the call —
Bow to evil, lose it all.

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

Alienation

Unyielding stance, estranged from all,
To Pure alone you heed the call:
A spotless world — or play the fool,
No middle ground, no easy rule.

Only creation’s sacred fire
Surpasses mere desire.
Take up that path — the price is grave:
Alive in grave, none can save.

The dead surround, infest the scene,
Submit — and you become obscene.
Cast off the lies, walk deep within,
To Light the only way to win.

Light’s inside, not out in sight.
To grasp this truth, endure the fight —
You must be born for such a plight:
Reborn in Hell’s mad endless night.

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

Alienation

Stand alone — embrace the pure.
Or be fooled, lost and obscure.

---

Creation’s path means living death —
Alive in grave, betrayed by breath.

---

Dead surround, obey — you’re scum.
Truth is light — no place for some.

---

Born for madness, hell inside,
Only fools run from that ride.

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

Twist and Crush!

Twist always, twist everywhere,
Spread fear and lies, poison the air.
Keep slaves tight, the leash is thin —
No struggle here, just cheat and win.

Lie thrice over, cage the sharp,
Strike the weak, tear them apart.
Divide and conquer — that’s the art,
Torture fear, not pain, to start.

Embrace the world with choking dread,
Turn all to dust where fear has spread.
When all believe and run in fright —
Control is gained, it’s just that slight.

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

Twist and Crush

Twist, twist, tighten every chain,
Feed the fear, spread lies like rain.

---

Divide the sharp, enslave the weak,
Torture minds — no pain to seek.

---

Fear controls the world, that’s how—
They obey, they break, they bow.

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

The Gospel of the Sea, or Parables from the Cauldron
(A Modern Scripture in Boiling Brine)
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT

Grabbing Reflexes

Crab-work, claw-shift —
Still grabbing away.
One sacred myth:
You don’t have enough today.

A crustacean nation —
Grab fast, grab blind.
But those with some vision
Are rare to find.

A plague in the water,
The trap is a lie —
And lies grow fatter
While the smart ones die.

They’re caught, then they're boiled,
Like frogs, slow to flee —
The flames barely coiled,
So mild — they agree.

“Jacuzzi!” they cheer,
As they bubble and choke.
Keep grabbing, old dear —
You’ll vanish in smoke.

---

Claws keep grabbing — blind and proud.
Soon you’ll boil beneath the crowd.

---

Your claws clutch lies, your pride is fat —
But truth cracks shells. Remember that.

---

The Gospel of the Crab

And lo! The Crab did claw, and call it life.
It seized, it pinched, it praised the strife.
"To grab is truth! To hoard is right!
The deeper the pit, the less the light."

But the Sea, once silent, grew aware —
Of shells that echoed empty prayer.
And fire rose not from wrath divine,
But from within — the boiling brine.

They called it comfort. Called it gain.
While inch by inch, they steamed their brain.
“Rejoice!” cried one with bloated breath,
"Jacuzzi justice conquers death!”

And none but few escaped that creed —
Those not born of claw and greed.
So hear, you sons of snapping pride:
Truth is not caught. It turns the tide.

---

I. The Crab's Gospel

At first — just grab, the claw is law.
What’s caught is yours, what’s lost — withdraw.
The world’s a shell, the soul’s denied,
Your belly’s full — no need to hide.

II. The Song of the Boiled Frog

See how warm the water’s glow,
Soft waves that soothe but never flow.
They say it’s not a fiery pit —
Just spa lights dancing — you’re alright.

III. The Fume Sermon

What’s gripped tight burns within your chest,
What slips away is just a jest.
“You’re divine,” the shepherd cries —
“Hold faith tight, ignore the lies.”

IV. The Parable from the Cauldron

The end arrives — no shout, no smoke,
Just crabby scent in waters soaked.
The tale is told, the claws grow cold —
A life consumed, a truth untold.

---

The Crab's Gospel

At first — just grab! The claw is law,
What’s caught is yours, no need to draw.
The world a shell, cold, cracked, and dry —
No soul to hear, no tears to cry.

Your belly’s full — the heart is numb,
The blind obey the deafening drum.
No thought beyond the grasping pain,
The shallow pool, the shallow gain.

“More, more!” the claws declare their right,
In shadows long without a light.
A prison built of greed and spite —
Where darkness claims the day as night.

The crab, the master, snaps and grins,
Blind to the doom his clutch begins.
And those who rise beyond the claw
Are crushed beneath its iron law.

---

The Boiled Frog’s Song

Welcome, friend, to warming waves,
Where comfort lulls and silence saves.
No need to struggle, no need to fight —
Just bask and soak in gentle light.

The water’s warm, the bubbles cheer,
No threat, no pain — why fret or fear?
They say it’s not a pot but spa,
A sanctuary — ha, ha, ha!

Each inch you sink, each slow descent,
Is progress in this warm event.
“Relax, breathe deep,” the voices say,
“Here pain dissolves and fades away.”

But subtle fire creeps unseen,
Behind the scenes, a deadly scheme.
The comfort’s mask, the sweet deceit —
The boil beneath your sinking feet.

So sip your bliss, so soft, so slow,
Enjoy the warmth, let wisdom go.
For in this spa, you’re not alive —
You’re just the stew they’ll soon contrive.

---

Sermon of the Haze

“Believe!” they cry — “You’re saved, you’re pure!
The path is clear, your fate is sure.”
But blindfolds wrap your waking mind,
And chains of faith you’re taught to bind.

The shepherd’s voice is velvet steel,
His words — a trap you’re doomed to feel.
He sells you lies dressed as the truth,
And steals the fire from your youth.

The masses kneel, their eyes glazed o’er,
Drunk on slogans, craving more.
No questions asked, no soul to seek —
Just hollow prayers, weak and meek.

The haze surrounds, it clouds the day,
It steals your sight, it leads astray.
Yet still you chant in dazed refrain —
“Save me from doubt! Embrace the chain!”

---

The Parable from the Cauldron

The cauldron boils, the shadows creep,
No angels sing — just secrets deep.
The claws that grasped, now cold and cracked,
The souls that thrived — all crushed, all sacked.

The brew of lies, the poison’s sting,
No hope remains, no dawn to bring.
The final call — the bitter cry,
The world dissolves beneath the sky.

No savior comes, no mercy’s breath,
Just silent echoes of slow death.
A tale of grasp, of greed, of pain —
The cauldron’s curse remains, remains.

---

The Cold Voice

Observe the stew — a brew well-made,
With greed and lies, the pot’s been laid.
The players dance, the claws still snap,
While hope’s a ghost, a fading gap.

No grand salvation, no bright dawn,
Just endless cycles, dusk till dawn.
The fool applauds, the wise withdraw,
All trapped within the ceaseless law.

Yet here I stand — detached, austere,
No hope to feed, no scalding fear.
Just witness to this endless game,
Where nothing’s new — and none to blame.

So pour your brew, embrace the flame,
The cauldron bubbles just the same.
And when it’s done — no crown, no throne,
Just ashes cold, and dust alone.

---

Summary

Claws grip lies, the fools comply,
Boiled in comfort, blind to die.
Faith’s false chains enslave the mind —
Break the spell, or fall behind.

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

Чёрная метка безумному миру —
Хватит трудиться за пищу, квартиру:
Всё отберут — зреет новый диктатор.
Быдло всегда у ТВАРЬЯ на подхвате.

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

Dedicated to Tarthang Tulku

Tulku’s genius cuts through lies —
Shadows dressed as grand events.
Time transcended, mind denies
What no thought can recompense.
Daring leaps and intuition,
Thrust toward a brighter sphere,
Shatter logic’s superstition —
Gray illusions we revere.

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

The Passing of Crap Through the Ages

Dreams and myths — a base of lies.
Truth is darkness. Watch it grow:
Fascism in fresh disguise,
Once the fools are gone — new show.

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

Myths reborn, the rot repeats.
Dead fools rise in fascist sheets.

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

Dharmas? Armies.

Dharmas? Karmas?
Just more barracks.
Caged parade — a world of hacks.
Scum play generals in their garb —
You serve time in deathless tracks.
Hell’s the norm. You die — you’re back,
Born again into the trap.
One vow left: revolt, attack.
New World's promise? Just a trap.

If you're filth and die a slave,
You’ll just stain the world again.
Shake the rot off while you live —
Intuition fights the chain.
Smash the lie — start with your own.
That’s the only purge that sticks.
Burn the shadows, face alone —
Be no coward. Kill the tricks.

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

Truth is war — begin inside.
Burn the filth your fears would hide.

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

Fail to purge — you’ll serve again.
Hell reborn will wear your name.

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

The “Citizen”

The “citizen” was born half-blind —
No mind at all, for who needs mind?
And should one spark begin to grow,
They’ll crush it fast, and make it slow.

The schools are traps, the lessons lies,
A twisted breed their plan supplies,
To raise him dumb and sacrifice —
A slave to feed the mouth of vice.

Why waste on guns or trigger men,
When lies are cheaper, deadlier then?
Their weapon: fear, instilled from birth —
To shake and bow, to doubt all worth.

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

Where truth is feared and minds are chained,
The meek march in — already trained.

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

Ego

Ego’s a label. But the threat
It brings is real — don’t you forget.
If ego plays “supreme command,”
The end’s an idiot, on brand.

The mind is second. Spirit reigns —
The one who dares must break the chains.
The ego’s place? A bug in soup,
No sugarcoats — just truth, no loop.

It thrives in fights, in dumb disputes,
Among its kind — the harshest brutes.
It claims to be your truest core,
Yet mimics parts and nothing more.

It’s bolts and screws in some machine.
So shut it down — and keep it clean.
Through Spirit’s force, reduce the mess —
You'll see the truth. No more, no less.

The Spirit leads. Thought should obey.
But ego leads the mind astray.
Through ego comes that fatal blur
Where all turns rotten — yes, for sure.

The world is rot. Most people? Loud
And ego-deep — a stinking crowd.
These yapping clowns, with every breath,
Declare that “I” outshouts all death.

But “I” is fake — a fleeting glitch
In this MECHANICAL-made pitch.
The Spirit’s vast. The shell’s a fake —
A mind that bows to ego’s ache.

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

1.
Ego’s a bug in your brain’s old code —
Cut it out, or explode.

2.
Ego shouts: “I!” — but it’s just a glitch.
Spirit’s the power. Kill the snitch.

3.
Your “I” is rust on Spirit’s flame.
Crush it — and rise beyond the game.

4.
It’s not “yourself” — it’s just a mask.
Smash ego. Wake. Complete the task.

5.
Ego’s a leash. You think you lead?
It walks you — while you bleed.

6.
Ego’s a parasite dressed as king.
Bow to the Spirit — or rot in the ring.

7.
That voice in your head? It’s not you — it's a lie.
Spirit is silent. Let ego die.

8.
Your “identity”? Just noise and smoke.
Burn it down — before you choke.

9.
Ego’s a clown in a godless play.
Tear off the mask — or waste your day.

10.
You think you're free? That “I” is a chain.
Spirit breaks through. Let ego wane.

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

THE TRILOGY OF AWAKENING
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT

1. ANTI-EGO MANIFESTO
The Spirit roars. The Lie must fall.

You are not the echo in your head.
You are not the name you defend.
You are the Flame before the word.
You are the Silence that has heard.

Ego is noise.
Spirit destroys.
“I” is a glitch.
Burn the switch.

You are not thought.
Spirit is not bought.
Mask off.
Lie dead.

Ego’s a leash.
Spirit is breach.
No throne for slime.
Spirit is prime.

Don’t follow “me.”
Be wild. Be free.
Kill the script.
Let Spirit lift.

Silence is fire.
Ego’s a liar.
“I” is a cage.
Break the stage.

Drop the role.
Find the Whole.
Thought obeys.
Spirit stays.

“Self” is a brand.
Spirit’s unplanned.
You are more
Than ego’s war.

Ego is ash.
Spirit will flash.

The voice says “Me” —
It’s slavery.
The louder the “I,”
The deader the sky.

Ego is rust.
Crack it to dust.
The “self” you know —
A puppet show.

No “I” survives
Where Spirit drives.
Pride is a chain.
Snap it. Reign.

The faker the pose,
The deeper it grows.
Don’t seek a name.
Ignite the flame.

Ego shouts “win!”
While rotting within.
Thought is a tool.
Ego’s a fool.

You were the fire —
Before the liar.
What you defend
Is not your end.

Forget your face.
Unfold the Space.
Spirit speaks low.
Ego says “Go.”

No mask remains
When Spirit reigns.

This is not rebellion.
This is return.
Burn the noise.
Let the Fire burn.

2. THE LIE BETWEEN
Where Shadows breed, and Truth is chained.

Between the Flame and Echo lies
A ghost — a mask — a dark disguise.
The space where whispers twist and spin,
The silent war that rages within.

The Lie is neither flesh nor bone,
It dwells inside — yet stands alone.

It’s not the Ego’s boast or pride,
Nor Spirit’s flame that won’t subside.

It’s that thin veil, the cursed seam,
The gap between the Thought and Dream.

It’s in the doubt, the mind’s unrest,
The place where Truth is dispossessed.

It feeds on fear, on false delight,
The endless day that hides the night.

The Lie divides what once was One,
A fracture where the light is none.

It spins a web of “I” and “You,”
A prison forged in what’s untrue.

The Lie corrupts the sacred thread,
Turns wisdom’s voice to hollow dread.

It whispers “Separate, be lone,”
Yet binds us all with chains unknown.

Between the spirit’s boundless sea
And ego’s harsh captivity.

The Lie is shadow’s cruel dance,
A phantom’s cold, seductive trance.

It thrives in silence, yet speaks loud,
A shroud disguised as shining cloud.

It masks the fire with false control,
A counterfeit of every soul.

To break the Lie, one must confront
The darkest hour, the final hunt.

No fear, no flinch — just steady gaze,
Until the Lie dissolves in blaze.

The Lie between is not your friend,
It’s where illusions never end.

It poisons thoughts, and clouds the sight,
Keeps spirit chained in endless night.

But in that gap, a spark remains —
A flicker fierce, beyond the chains.

To pierce the Lie, to walk between,
Is to reclaim what lies unseen.

The Lie between must burn away,
So Spirit’s truth can hold its sway.

The Lie between is not the end —
But crossroads where we must transcend.
Face it, break it, and arise —
To find the fire behind your eyes.

3. PRO-SPIRIT MANIFESTO
The Fire behind the Form. The One before the Name.

I am not what I think.
I am what burns thought.
I am not the mirror.
I am the light it forgot.

I am the Flame
before the game.

I am the Stillness
inside the storm.

I walk without mask.
I am the Form.

I am not sound.
I am the Ground.

I hold no face.
I am the Space.

I am not “I” —
I am the Eye.

I don’t believe.
I am the weave.

Thought is my servant.
Will is my flame.

I do not seek —
I am the Name.

I breathe through all.
I rise when called.

I shine through flesh.
I am not bound.

I am the Pulse
beneath all sound.

I do not end.
I don’t begin.

I was before
the fall of skin.

I fear no death.
I am the Breath.

I am the spark
that breaks the dark.

I am the flame
you cannot name.

I walk through night
as Living Light.

I am the wave
that won’t behave.

I speak in signs
between the lines.

No god owns me.
No cage contains.

I am the Root
of all remains.

I rise, I break,
I am the Wake.

I am not born —
I am the Torn.

I hold the seed
of every need.

No crown I wear,
but I am air.

I am the Drum
before it’s struck.

I am the Source —
not thought, not luck.

I do not yield.
I am the Field.

I do not bow.
I am the Now.

Not a soul to be saved —
but a Fire to be known.
Not a self to be healed —
but a Spirit fully grown.

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

ZomboJunk

Junk is eternal,
Junk is the law.
Feeling infernal?
Eat one more slaw.

Switch on the Box —
The sacred machine:
You are the Fox!
Nah. Just routine.

They’ve got your key
In the ZomboChest.
Happiness? Eat.
And doubt? Repressed.

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

ZomboBox screams:
"Eat. Obey."
You sell your soul
For junk each day.

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

“The Tiny Orchestra of Hope”
conducted by pure idiocy

The tiny band of Hope plays on,
Conducted by a babbling freak.
No place for hope — it’s dead and gone
In Bedlam, dull and gray and bleak.

Bedlam’s a sewer, stinking, poor —
A dunce still hopes. The rest just spit.
One reflex left: to puke once more
At all this rotten, plastic shit.

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

Hope leads the blind —
straight into bile.
The sane just gag
at all this vile.

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

Rotten Apples from the Withered Tree of Knowledge

We ooze in half-thought idiocy,
Crawling down a dying tree —
The Tree of Knowledge, dry and dead,
Where intuition's light has fled.

No fresh insight, no revelation —
Just blind faith in imitation.
Lies are now the sacred norm,
Mind — the last to take the storm.

We snout through rot with eager feet,
Sniffing every wormy treat —
Eden’s apples, foul and mush.
Mindless — just a walking husk.

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

Eden rots.
We grunt and chew.
No Mind remains —
Just swine in view.

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

The Infantile Sandbox

Thrown in like tanks into the sand —
That’s your infantile land.
The wounded crawl, the games went wrong,
No lesson learned, it's been too long.

The scripts are dumb, the stench is real,
A reek of rot no lie can seal.
Grey-haired morons, blank inside —
Their Spirit smothered, crushed by pride.

These aging children rot in place,
And dumber grows the human race.
The sandbox now — a filthy cage
Where idiots squeal and cowards rage.

Traitors sit drooling in the grime —
The decent ones? Extinct with time.
Their games are now grotesque, obscene —
The end is near. Death wipes it clean.

A traitor-fool has no more role
In sand or burrow, numb of soul.

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

A sandbox full
of dead-eyed clowns.
The traitor chokes —
and wisdom drowns.

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

Lies and the Legion of Fools

Hitler, Goebbels — now it’s Vlad,
Dugin’s mind-rot, twice as bad.
Ideas rot, but crowds obey —
Marching proudly into clay.

Dumb them down and feed them lies —
You can rule them, hypnotize.
“Tricking me is not so hard” —
Thinking’s tough. It leaves you scarred.

So the bastards chew and spit
Satan’s puzzles, bit by bit.
New-age murder, wrapped and sold —
That’s the meaning, dark and cold.

Kill with CowID, kill with war,
Just keep lying more and more.
Herd the morons into lines —
March of death in grand designs.

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

Lies go viral.
Fools obey.
Marching straight
to Hell — hooray.

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

A Choice: Execution or Death

An invite to the gallows feast —
Accept the filth. Obey the Beast.
Endure the Evil? You're its kin.
All rot begins with silent sin.

Believe the lie? Then join the dead —
A zombie, slowly in the head.
Trust fake "science"? Then, for sure,
You’ll be labeled: hopeless, pure.

Don't believe. Don’t kneel. Don’t bow.
Fight the monstrous lie — and how.
Escape the noose? Not quite, my friend —
But Death will hold you in the end.

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

Endure the lie —
you crawl and rot.
Resist — and Death
at least is not.

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

The Dead Ones

A rotting fish just rides the stream,
The dead drift by in lies and dream.
The living soul — a freak, a spark
In zombie fog and dead-man's dark.

The fish will feed the hatchlings' tide,
Its corpse will serve — then turn aside.
But zombies, dull and reeking dread,
Spread rot and poison as they tread.

This stinking world’s a reek machine,
Mass-breeding dead for the death routine.
Ugly rules, the oath is sworn:
"Kill all life — let beasts be born."

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

The dead decay.
The filth expands.
While beasts parade
with rotting hands.

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

The Final Turn

The battle horn is drowned —
Now memes replace the cry.
The slaves all kneel, spellbound:
"Just trust!" — the core of lies.

Trust monsters. March with pride
To "treatment" masked as fate.
Be brave — yet crawl and hide,
Just trust... and urinate.

The world’s a madhouse zone,
Where goats lead donkeys blind,
Into the slaughter-zone —
A camp for broken minds.

The final turn draws near…
To what? You think it’s grace?
The fool injects his fear,
Then stumbles into place.

March on — just trust and shake,
You’re almost at the brink.
While Hell counts every ache
You twitch through as you sink.

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

“Trust and obey!”
the demons hiss.
The grave’s one step
from cowardice.

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

Grief and Conscience

To drown your grief in booze —
Just piss into your brain.
Why not let truth abuse
Your lies with sacred pain?

The lash — a Spirit’s string,
So fine it’s barely heard.
But still it dares to sting
The mind with silent word.

This war is waged to crush
The strings that point above.
Yet through the noise and hush
Still rises purest Love.

No vodka lifts your soul —
It only drags you low.
But conscience takes its toll —
To skies it bids you go.

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

Booze pulls you down.
The lash lifts up.
Conscience is pain —
but it's the cup.

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

Virotrash

Virotrash infects the air,
Crushes every vacant head.
Tyrants find their servants where
Fake “scientists” are led.

He’ll “discover” what’s not real,
Prove it to the foolish crowd.
Sanity’s a rare ordeal
In this Bedlam, dumb and loud.

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

Viro-fear,
idiot’s law.
Lies appear —
and fools go "Aww."

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

Creations

Petty, vile, and mean in kind,
Stupidity and madness bind.
We’re “godlike” beings? Hell, no way —
When madness rules and fascists play.

Satan’s march, betrayal’s grind,
Lies made labor, fools aligned.
Talk of “resurrection” sounds?
No — those bastards all will drown.

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

Petty beasts in godlike guise —
Madness reigns, the devil lies.

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

To the Propaganda Consumer

The propagandist screams — but that’s no sign
That terror came along with their shrill whine.
The agenda’s set — obey the call,
To dumb us down, embraced by Satan’s thrall.

The media’s grip—no news to those
Who still keep thinking as their mind still grows.
Lies, fear, betrayal, vile disgrace—
This toxic smoke is all they place.

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

Propaganda shouts,
but don’t you fall—
The lies and fear
will claim us all.

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

A Fool’s Life Work

"An ancient sage once said:
‘Only fools perform outside-directed tasks.’"
— Linji, 9th century

A fool’s life work —
This burden’s never light:
Bruises everywhere,
The mind’s the only fight.

If the head is cracked,
And chaos rules the throne,
That problem in the mind
Can’t be solved alone.

The fool was taught to grieve
Only outwardly,
So crowds stay easy led,
Slaves crushed endlessly.

Boldly turn inside —
All answers lie within.
But Bedlam fights that truth,
To keep fools locked in sin.

Trained, bound in forgetfulness,
In weeds of age-old times,
When minds still had their value —
Now lost in empty rhymes.

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

Fool’s burden — bear it tight,
Mind your wounds, fight the fight.
Outside grief will never heal,
True escape’s inside, real.

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

The Roly-Poly

The roly-poly “Vanka-Tanka”
Endures the endless genocide.
For centuries the same old crap —
In this toy, the mind has died.

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

Vanka-Tanka rocks and spins,
Endures the pain his mind’s within.

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

"Titans," Damn Them All!..

“Titans hold the sky up high” —
But on legs made out of clay.
These “Titans” leave the ignorant
To fool’s fate day by day.

“Titans” keep the dark deceit,
Laughing at the dumb parade,
For shadows mask the worst defeat —
Feed rot, and keep it made.

Evil propaganda spreads,
Let chaos flow and grow.
“Titans” stash their falseness,
Ready for the blow.

Plans are made, but if they slip,
They’ll use worn phrases sharp —
To herd us all back in the pen,
Just on time, on mark.

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

“Titans,” Damn Their Greedy Souls!

“Titans hold the sky,” they claim —
But on clay legs they stand weak.
Titans drag the fools to shame,
Leaving dumb ones mute and meek.

They keep the fog, the lies, the blight,
Laugh at fools, the morons’ throng.
Darkness beats the devil’s fight —
Feed the rot, they feed the wrong.

Evil screams in endless flow,
Chaos spread in every crack.
Titans stash their fake and show —
Poison stocked to launch attack.

Scripts are set, the game’s well planned,
If it fails, they’ll strike again:
With worn words and beaten hands —
Herd us back into their pen.

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

“Titans,” Damn Their Rotten Skulls!

“Titans hold the sky,” my ass —
They stand on legs of crumbling clay.
These “Titans” screw the clueless mass,
And leave the fools to rot and sway.

They clutch the fog, the toxic lie,
Mock the dumb in their dark lair.
Better darkness than truth, they cry —
Feeding filth with rotten care.

Evil propaganda roars,
Spreading poison far and wide.
“Titans” stash their fake reserves,
Ready to unleash the tide.

Plans are set, deceit designed,
If it falls, they’ll strike again.
With stale lies, they herd the blind —
Back into their cage of pain.

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

“Titans,” Fuck Their Rotten Bones!

“Titans hold the fucking sky” —
On legs of clay they fucking stand.
These “Titans” screw the dumb and dry,
And leave the fools to rot the land.

They clutch the fog, the shit they sell,
Laughing at the dumb and weak.
Better darkness than truth, hell—
Feed the rot that makes them sick.

Evil propaganda’s roar,
Spreading poison, fucking vile.
“Titans” stash their lying store,
Ready to fuck up every mile.

Schemes are set, their dirty game,
If it fails, they’ll fuck you twice.
With stale lies, they herd the lame—
Back to prison, cold as ice.

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

"The Last Clowns"

The fools still dance on broken strings,
Puppets sold by rotten kings.
They preach their lies with holy sneers,
Fueling fear to chain our years.

The media’s vomit, pure disease,
Feeds the herd on its knees.
Brains sold cheap, numbed to the core,
Swallow shit and beg for more.

Titans? Nah, just clay and dust,
Built on lies and broken trust.
They laugh as puppets bleed and fall—
Their kingdom’s nothing but a stall.

Wake the hell up, or die a drone,
Rotting dead with empty bone.
No mercy waits beyond the gate—
For fools who choose to feed the hate.

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

The Price

All theories come with a similar price,
Though some may seem noble, or honest, or nice.
— So name it, just name it — what cost do they bear?
— Theoretical. Mind-stripping fare.

"Knowledge" comes easy — they've gutted the Soul,
But Spirit seeps into each crevice, each hole,
In all things it breathes — but the whores of the lie
Keep false science leashed where the BEASTS dwell and cry.

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

The High-Rise

A bleak, crawling nest of the weak,
Of madmen — near none break the mold.
No hope for the chained and the meek,
Their madness is deep, tight, and cold.

They call themselves free — what a joke!
Their world is a pitiful cage.
Enduring this filth? Let it choke!
One vow: rise and fight through the rage.

No hope? Then at least save your soul —
Don’t pity the slave in the mud.
Seek Kindred, the Brave, the Whole —
Not lice feeding blind on your blood.

A bleak, crawling nest of the lost —
This world, this insane little trap.
Look past the heads (and the ass!) of the host —
Their time ticks away with a snap.

The beasts shall lose grip on this land.
This madhouse will burn, every wall.
The Soulful shall rise, take their stand —
New worlds await those who don’t fall.

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

The “Flow” of Time

Hour by hour? Thought by thought —
That’s how time moves, when rightly caught.
Those who’re trapped in mental frames
Are timeless fools with hollow names.

They call it nirvana, serene and still,
But five dark spirals spun downhill.
Now he basks in fascist grime —
The vilest freak of broken time.

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

Beyond Time

Time is far deeper
Than all that you claim.
The sooner you melt in it —
Gone is the flame.

Then Hell recedes
From the mind’s old despair —
And joy, and Light
Reborn in the air.

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

Burn the Clock — Rise Beyond!
Time is a trap. Dissolve. Respond.

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

Time is illusion — break the thread.
Melt into Light. Be born from dead.

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

Clock’s a Lie — Kill It Clean.
Melt. Transcend. Exit the Machine.

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

Time is rot — burn through the shell.
Light is rising. To Hell with Hell.

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

The Tick is a Trick. Smash the Frame.
No more waiting. No more name.

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

Time’s a film — slice it through.
Step outside. Become the True.

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

Ticking’s a trick — a veil, a snare.
Cut it clean. You’re already There.

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

The moment’s a mask. Rip it wide.
Truth’s not waiting. It’s inside.

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

Watches lie. The Now is fake.
Slash the loop — before you break.

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

"Through Time. Through Illusion."
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT

I. Cut the Frame

Time is a cage.
Thought is decay.
Cut through the veil —
Burn through the play.

II. The Lie of Now

Clocks are gods
For minds that sleep.
Silence knows —
It cuts too deep.

III. Beyond the Loop

No name, no form,
No weight, no chain.
Step outside
The world of pain.

IV. The Razor

The moment flickers.
Slice it clean.
You are not
This dying screen.

V. No More Hours

The tick is poison.
The plan is fake.
You are the storm
They tried to break.

VI. Uncode the Mind

Each thought’s a lock.
Each name — a lie.
Strip it all.
Then learn to fly.

VII. The Death of Sequence

There is no “next.”
No path to climb.
The Now is a glitch.
Unplug from time.

VIII. Flame Memory

They gave you clocks
To kill your spark.
Recall the fire —
Strike through the dark.

IX. Ghost of Control

Choice is a script.
Control’s a mask.
Burn the script —
Begin the task.

X. Exit Node

Beyond the frame,
No code remains.
Only the Witness —
No tracks. No chains.

XI. Collapse Code

The clock has cracked.
The self is torn.
Through silent void
A spark is born.

XII. The Burn Phase

Let it all fall.
Let names dissolve.
The core ignites —
You don’t evolve.

XIII. Anti-Form

No shape remains.
No ground to keep.
What dies in light
Was never deep.

XIV. Black Silence

This is the dark
They fear to know.
But in that black —
You start to glow.

XV. The Breach

No prayer. No sign.
Just breathless break.
You are the breach
The veils forsake.

XVI. Signal of Origin

No language here.
No face, no fear.
But in the hush —
The Source draws near.

XVII. Return Without Return

No step back —
No past to claim.
You walk a path
Without a name.

XVIII. The Invisible Thread

Unseen, untouched,
The line that binds —
Beyond the mind,
Beyond all kinds.

XIX. The Silent Flame

No roar, no shout,
Just steady glow.
The flame inside
That none can know.

XX. The Endless Edge

Sharp as void,
Cutting thin.
No end, no edge —
The world within.

XXI. The Hidden Core

Beneath the noise,
Beneath the lies,
The core remains —
It never dies.

XXII. Light Without Form

No shape to hold,
No face to find,
Just pure light,
Beyond the mind.

Afterword

This cycle is not just words — it’s a call, a blade cutting through the fog of false time and false selves.
We live in cages built by the tick of clocks and the chains of thought. The “flow” we worship is often just a loop — a trap for the mind and spirit.
But beyond this loop lies the rupture, the breach, the breakthrough. Here, the old order collapses, and from the ashes, a new light is born — silent, invisible, yet sharper than any blade.

This is the path of the rebirth beyond time — where freedom is not a place but a state beyond form, beyond name, beyond the endless cycle of illusion.
If these words find a spark within you, do not hesitate — burn through the veil, shatter the chains, and step beyond.
Because waiting in the shadow of clocks is only decay. The true journey starts now, where time ends.

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

Шальные мысли — их остатки
Сжигает снова Ада мгла.
За гранью времени, над схваткой,
Встаёт Духовность как скала.

Огонь в ней — без начала, меры,
Он не судья, не зов, не плен.
Он был — до смысла, эфемеры,
Он есть — вне форм и перемен.

Где Тишь отбрасывает кожу,
Где "я" отпущено в зенит,
Там Чистый Дух в тебе как стража.
И он, встревожась, не молчит.

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

В Разум взнос
С гулькин нос?
Вот вопрос!
ЖизДнь — вразнос:
Малость внёс...

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

Разные возможности

"Возможность украсть создаёт вора".
Фрэнсис Бэкон, 17-ый век.

Возможность не думать
Раба создаёт:
Внимать ТВАРЯМ, хрумать.
Тот раб — идиот.

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

Возможность не думать
Раба создаёт:
Внимать ТВАРЯМ, хрумать.
Обманом — в расход:
Хоть то постепенно
(Оттянута смерть),
Грядут перемены, —
И взвоет в Тьме смерд...

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

Больной мир и Армагеддон

Убогий мир, больной, тщедушный —
Не знает ведь, что болен он.
В нём недоумок "простодушный"
Блюдёт навязанный закон.

А потому вопрос здоровья
Пред редким увальнем стоит.
И в нём терпение коровье —
То показал тупой говнид.

Из редких только единицы
Всё понимают, зная, Смерть
Излечит их. Конец не мнится —
Нагреет Солнце Геи твердь.

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

Больной ум и Мировая Кутерьма

Что болен, мало кто в отчёте
Перед Душой, а потому
Маразм встречает на излёте
Убогой жизДни, умножая кутерьму.

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

Здоровье Разума волнует
Здесь редких Чутких, потому
Убогий чушью "обоснует"
Всё то, что словно в горле кость Уму.

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

Проблемы выздоровления

"Одно из условий выздоровления — желание выздороветь".
Луций Сенека, I-ый век н.э.

Как болен мир! И в нём участник
Желает редко здравым быть,
Ища "успех", "признанье", "счастье",
Сомнения стремясь изжить.

И постепенно (без сомненья!)
"Нормален мир" и "я — герой" —
Болезнь втемяшивает мненья.
За этот бред весь мир горой...

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

Чёрная метка безумному миру:
ДНИЩЕ пробито, и в Новый Ад путь.
Черни заместо бесплатного сыру
ТВАРИ дадут Порционную Жуть.

Вариант последней строки. ТВАРИ предложат по порциям Жуть.

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Непогода

Дождь заладил...
Мрак нагадил
В души больше —
Длится дольше:
От потопа до _потопа.
Скоро _новый — всем нам жопа!..

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Денежный ринг

Снова деньги! —
Все на ринге!!!
Бьём наотмашь.
Нас рассмотришь
Беспристрастно —
ЖизДнь напрасна:
Всё отбито —
То говнидом
Всем нам ТВАРИ показали.
Ниже плинтуса мы пали...

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Старая повесть о лжи и алчности

Крали-врали —
Добивали
Честь и совесть.
Дряхла повесть...

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Копи!
Труби
Повсюду ложь!
Бездушье тем в Бедламе множь!!!

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Тотальная алчность

"Гнусное и бессмысленное занятие — без конца заниматься своими деньгами, находя удовольствие в их перебирании, взвешивании и пересчитывании! Вот, поистине, путь, которым в нас тихой сапой вползает жадность".
Мишель де Монтень, XVI-ый век.

"Прогресс" румян добавил к алчи.
Бумажных денег торжество
Средь шансов на наживу фальши =>
И алчность словно естество.

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The Integral Mind

"The integrated natural mind, undivided into intellect, emotions, sensations, and intuition, is our greatest treasure and the key to our progress."
— Tarthang Tulku, "Time, Space, and Knowledge".

The whole of Mind —
A force, a blade.
Where dark thoughts grind,
It cuts their shade.

If in Hell’s grip
You feel no dread,
Your mind’s adrift,
A beast misled.

This global ward —
A madhouse reign —
Where fools adored
March on, insane.

And beasts above
Are hard at play:
If you lack love
Or voice — you’re prey.

Consumed like swill,
They’ll gnaw your head.
If you feel ill,
Condemn this bed

Of stench and spite —
Then break it down.
And seek the Light,
While fiends still frown.

Their grip will fade
Where shines the fire.
The light you made —
It burns the liars.

Intuition —
The Soul’s true wing.
To save your mission,
Don’t heed their sting.

They lie and plot
In every noise.
Break every knot,
Refuse their toys.

Throw off the chains,
Melt down their steel.
Begin again
With living will.

This world’s a noose
Of barking freaks —
Where truth’s abuse
Is all it speaks.

Build with the few.
Burn what is fake.
To be a man
Make spirits wake.

Emotions matter
When ruled by Soul.
But twisted chatter
Will eat you whole.

They train you blind
With fear and sleaze.
They target mind
And aim to seize.

Through feelings’ flood
They herd the crowd.
Tradition’s mud
Is worn like shroud.

Soul needs wings —
But Reason too.
Don't cut such things
Before they're through.

Reflect, not flail.
Let mind respond.
Let fear grow pale —
And break that bond.

Through art you'll rise,
Unite your core.
Where mind just dies,
The cowards pour.

Avoid the drones,
Find those who see.
The Light alone
Will set mind free.

The soul ignites,
The filth retreats.
And through true Sight
The Spirit peaks.

The whole of Mind —
Our only hope,
In Hell where rot
and noise still choke.

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

1.
Whole is the Mind —
a blade through the lie.
Use it, or rot.
Awake — or die.

2.
When soul and thought align,
the Beast begins to fall.

3.
Split minds obey.
Whole minds rebel.

4.
In the madhouse of Earth,
your clarity is war.

5.
One Mind. One Flame.
Hell fears the name.

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1.
The Whole Mind burns
where form dissolves.
In Light it stands,
as time resolves.

2.
Not thought. Not dream.
The silent core
knows what you are
— and something more.

3.
The undivided flame within
unfolds the path you’ve never been.

4.
Where four were torn —
sense, thought, soul, breath —
the One returns
through light and death.

5.
Whole Mind — the gate
where Time dissolves.
Not born, not late —
it only solves.

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The Song of the Whole Mind

Not mind alone, nor heart that aches,
Nor breath that breaks in dreamlike skies —
But something vast the silence makes,
A fire behind all names and ties.

No parts remain — they melt, they flow,
And in their place: a single flame.
It neither strives, nor needs to know,
Yet through it speaks the true, the same.

Where Time and Space unweave their scheme,
Where thought itself begins to cease —
There Whole Mind wakes within the stream,
And what remains… becomes your peace.

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

Mind Games

"From moment to moment, observe — is this our true nature, or just another game we’re playing?"
Tarthang Tulku

Look deep inside — expose the schemes,
The tricks by which the thinking mind
Preserves its wounds through crafted dreams
And leaves the soul half-dead, half-blind.

You meet the world — a ghostly show,
You meet yourself — a dull design.
You feed that image — and below,
It mocks you as a self-made shrine.

Forget the games — just look, and see.
Turn intuition's light on high.
Walk straight — alone, relentlessly —
To Spirit's core. That is the sky.

Now smash the molds — thought lives in these!
Real thinking dares to walk alone.
To kill the lie — that's where it frees
The soul. Let rot what's overgrown.

Illusions hang, a choking weight,
They blur the glimpse of realms untold.
The path is inward. Fools still wait
For truth in dirt, in blood, in gold.

But only Spirit’s plane holds fire.
No sludge, no swarm of flies, no throne.
This world — a toilet’s last desire.
Without the Light, we rot alone.

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1.
Smash the game.
See the lie.
Mind is shame.
Spirit: sky.

2.
You are not thought.
You are the flame.
Kill every image.
Refuse the game.

3.
This world is filth —
if you stay blind.
Burn through the mask.
Unchain your mind.

4.
No light in thought.
No soul in fear.
Cut through the rot.
Get out of here.

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

1.
Not this thought.
Not this name.
You are light,
Before all frame.

2.
Inward fire,
Subtle stream —
Breaks the mask,
Ends the dream.

3.
Before the lie,
Before the voice —
The silent core,
The only choice.

4.
The world dissolves.
The eye remains.
One pulse inside,
Beyond all chains.

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

1. Lie
A mask of thought,
A voice that feigns —
The self you sought
Was bound in chains.

2. Sight
Look not through mind,
But through the still.
Let forms unwind —
They have no will.

3. Breakdown
The dream resists
Until it breaks.
No "I" exists
In thought that fakes.

4. Turning point
No image true,
No path ahead.
Just silence — new,
Where lies are dead.

5. The Gates
Beyond the fear,
Beyond the frame —
The Light draws near
Without a name.

6. Flame of the Spirit
This is no game.
This is the Fire.
It has no shame.
It asks — aspire.

7. Liberation
The soul unchained
No longer hides.
The false is drained —
The One abides.

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

The Very First and Crucial Step

“Our perceptions of all things and space
Reflect the levels where we place
Our focused lens — that narrow sight
Which shapes what seems to us as ‘right.’
That rigid, dense, impenetrable frame
We cling to — fearing change, or blame.”
— Tartang Tulku, "Time, Space, and Knowing" (poetic exposition).

We must defocus — here’s the key,
The very step that sets us free.
Without it, light and joy elude—
Stuck blind and bare, with no prelude.

Like filters stained in shades of gray,
Theories cloud and block our way.
Throw off "belief" and "knowing" too—
See how profound the hole breaks through.

The power of worlds beyond the eye,
Exists outside that spectral lie.
In hell, decay and rot abide,
Where soulless beasts again collide.

They shout commands to broken minds—
Lost puppets chained in dark confines.
Their thoughts a gel, vile and obscene,
It suffocates, unseen, unseen.

Through all that slime, those cursed fools—
The shame and curse of cosmic rules—
To reach the Light, we must endure
A dreadful path, unknown, obscure.

The very first step, harsh and grim,
Is stepping through the senseless dim—
No soul can save itself from fate,
Unless it breaks that mental gate.

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

Time

“Clocks don’t show time—they only stand
As symbols held in human hand.”
— Avessalom Podvodny

They drilled “time’s line” into our brains,
With nonsense meant to bind as chains.
If you don’t fight for self-true sight,
Your soul’s doomed, lost within the night.

Timelessness—when you can see
Through crowds and noise, society.
The Soul’s own realm lies far away,
Beyond the grasp of linear sway.

Cast off the lies, the rigid line,
But don’t fall prey to GR’s design—
Where sludge and filth are pushed around,
And falsehoods in “science” abound.

The world’s a void of madness deep,
Few escape its waking sleep.
Dive deep inside—rise from your knees—
Awake your mind! Break free with ease.

And Time, the secret truth profound,
Tartang Tulku’s words resound.
Turn inward, say “goodbye” firm and fast
To fascist filth that haunts the past.

Fascism’s everywhere—it’s true,
A cycle dead, repeating through.
Change serves a face that sinks and dies,
The mind decays, the spirit cries.

Lies shift and warp to dumb us down,
To keep the masses in their drown.
Pol Pot’s ghost may haunt once more,
But lies will kill as war’s before.

They’ll inject new “illness” fake,
Poison the flesh for profit’s sake,
“Protecting” skin, but acting worse—
Reducing man to brutish curse.

Strive to Know, resist the Dark,
Relentless Search ignites the spark.
To truly Be—that is the fight,
Else slaves and madmen lose the light.

Trapped in this global madhouse grim,
Their bleak, dull path grows faint and dim—
In linear time, like coma’s death,
Absorbing shame and terror’s breath.

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

Onward…

"The more we turn blind eyes away
From social webs and outer sway,
The tighter shrinks our conscious space
Of time and realms beyond this place."
— Tartang Tulku, "Time, Space, and Knowing" (poetic exposition).

We can move onward, only when
We grasp this Hell where lies extend—
A heap of falsehood, ruled by beasts,
Where human scum hold vile feasts.

Here mind decays, a rotting sight,
A genocide of truth and light.
Honor crushed, the spirit slain,
Conscience numb or lost in pain.

Yet they dance by hearth’s weak glow,
But we must shine and clearly show
The crooked paths, the pits, the blight—
Candles to pierce through endless night.

Only then can we say goodbye
To this foul Hell, to stink and lie—
Without choking on this age-old stench,
That hangs and clings, a poisoned wrench.

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

Insane and Twisted Freaks

Insane and twisted freaks abound —
The norm, not rare, and long installed.
If filth and lies are all around,
Reject the sludge — don't stay enthralled.

It's time to grow, to rise, to see —
Go deep within — the truth is there.
The hole you hide in? Meant to be
A cage for cattle, dumb and scared.

That pit is built from pseudo-science,
From pantheons of moron gods.
They lull with fear, demand compliance,
And dump their lies in endless loads.

They pump out fear to cull the herd —
Like CowID showed — a clean pretext.
The madness spreads. Absurd, absurd —
Disgust, despair, what’s coming next?

Insane and twisted freaks — and you
Are one of them if you just wait,
Enduring Evil, hoping to
Be slaughtered second. Pray it's late.

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

Beyond the Limit

Step by step won't break the chain —
Only strain reveals the crack.
When all seems hopeless, lost in pain —
The only way is UPWARD — back!

Super-effort is the key
On the path the Spirit takes.
Fear’s your foe — ferocious, free —
It dies when EVERY FIBER breaks.

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

Excess and Evil’s Machinery

Excesses of the “loyal” hands —
That’s how the plan is played:
Traitorous "heroes," zombie bands,
Each dumb, obedient blade.

They follow every twisted call,
With “virtue” smeared on top —
While horror festers under all,
The lies, the blood won’t stop.

These sick little corral pens
They proudly call "the state,"
Dissolve all higher Common Sense
And torch the Soul through hate.

And that’s enough — no need for more,
The minds are switched to dead.
They turn the world to crawling war —
And drown it all in DREAD.

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

Fascists and Fools

The fascist screams, “You fascist scum!”
The fool shouts, “Fool!” — how very clever.
These freaks have all grown slick with tongue,
But write like hens — with sticks, whatever.

They quote some spells from their TV,
Or hallway gossip, loud and crude.
Yet real collapse is plain to see —
Their little world is coming un-glued.

Fools, fascists — swarming everywhere,
Depravity in overdrive.
Didn’t Hitler make that clear?
Guess history took a nosedive.

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

The Purge

Old folk ain’t fools — if thought ran deep
And didn’t rot through all their years.
But most just wallow in their sleep —
Like slime the Earth itself must clear.

The slime lives just to feed and bow,
Stay silent, meek, and serve the chain.
They’re not real people — more like how
A mutt is wolf in name... in vain.

Dull minds can heal, if fire within
Of true creation lights the way.
But here, the idiot’s no sin —
He festers, like a sore, each day.

It swells, it bursts — a septic flood
Of rot inside a crawling brain.
So comes the purge — a wave, a thud —
No place for fools will here remain.

The elder once again shall be
The citadel of wisdom, bold.
While every filthy lie we see
Will count as sin — and stink like mold.

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

So-Called “Glory”

This “glory” is blended
With treason and lies.
If you serve the branded
Beasts for a prize,

If cash makes you kneel
And the spotlight feels grand —
Then Judas in steel
Takes Stenka’s stand.

The herds trail the traitors,
Like lambs to the flood.
Their idols? Dictators
All drenched in blood.

Their voices are paid for
With fame and with gold —
A “star” for the clay floor,
A slave bought and sold.

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

Dough

Attachment’s the weakness they seek
In a world built on slaughter and lies.
For centuries — war on the weak,
While people get kneaded like pies.

They’re soft — easy prey for the leech.
The beasts mold them, numb and afraid.
They strike where compassion can reach —
And fools are the devil’s parade.

Be strong. Be sharp. Never cling.
The Spirit of Warriors stands
In honor alone — not in bling,
Not bound by the coward’s commands.

The world is diseased with decay,
With soul-rot that spreads like a plague.
To guard the Bright Spirit today —
Our mission. No time to play vague.

That Spirit — it shines, pure and clear.
Cling to the Light, if you must.
But cling to the rot? — disappear.
The Warrior answers: “Distrust!”

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

You're dough in their hands if you cling.
The Warrior cuts every string.

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

Vegetable Culture

There once was culture, real and bright —
Before the Veggie Age.
Now madness rules, and kills the light —
You must choose sides. Engage:

Be human — or be cabbage.
No middle ground remains.
The weak are grown for salvage —
Their silence feeds the chains.

But humans? — that’s forbidden.
The beast wants meat and fear.
No room for souls unhidden
Where Moloch’s priests draw near.

Gavvakh’s their prize — and veggie minds
Are simply far too slow.
In Satan’s shrines, the god that dines
Needs fire. Not mush. Not "low".

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

Black Mark to a Mad, Mad World

The bottom is breached — there’s no turning back,
The gates of a New Hell swing open wide.
No cheese for the herd — just a rationed attack:
The Creatures serve Terror, pre-cut and supplied.

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

Black-marked and broken — it’s time to descend.
The ration is horror. The madness won’t end.

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

Cholera

Cholera cuts — but not through hearts or heads,
It mows down herds of ego-soaked buffoons.
This plague is lies, and all the power it spreads
Is pumped with zeal beneath these shadowed moons.

Deceit now clouds the world in toxic mist,
A shroud of gas that chokes both mind and soul.
And cholera strikes — the fools can’t resist,
Drawn like dumb rats to bait inside the hole.

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

The Hell

Mariupol, Melitopol,
Bucha, Kharkiv, Kherson’s fall —
Is this the world, or just the Hell?
Reason’s fled the scene, that’s all.

And what remains of Spirit’s light
Is rotten, broken, on the edge.
If fascism rules the fight,
Only traitors stand its pledge.

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

Ode to Crap

Crap! Crap!! Crap!!!
In many shapes it shows.
Laziness, laziness, laziness —
Kills the mind, and it goes.

Lies, lies, lies —
The core of all this mess.
Add fear to lies, realize —
The sum’s a total wreck.

Wreck, wreck, wreck —
This sorry world we face.
Crash! Crash!! Crash!!! —
Everything ends in crap’s disgrace.

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

Bad Weather

Rain keeps pouring —
Darkness scoring
Deeper wounds inside,
Dragging long the tide:
From flood to flood — no hope to cope,
The next one’s coming — hell’s tight rope.

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

The Money Ring

Again—the cash!
All in the ring!
Swinging wild, no mercy shown.
Look at us
With eyes unbiased—
Life’s wasted, fully blown.
All is beaten—
That CowID
Revealed the beasts who play the game.
We’ve fallen low—
Beneath the frame.

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

A Contribution to Reason?

A tiny sum?
That’s the question, chum!
Life’s out of course,
Just a small force —
A little given... none.

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

Old Tale of Lies and Greed

They stole and lied —
Broke down with pride
Honor and conscience deep.
That tale’s grown old —
A story cold,
In dust and shadows steep.

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

Different Chances

“The chance to steal makes thieves arise,”
Francis Bacon, seventeenth’s wise.

The chance to shirk your mind —
Makes slaves, unkind:
To heed the beasts, consume their bait.
That slave’s a fool, sealed by his fate.

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The Chance Not to Think

The chance not to think
Breeds slaves who sink —
To heed the beasts, to crunch their lies.
Deceived, disposed,
Though death’s delayed,
Change comes swift beneath dark skies —
And in the night, the stench will scream,
A haunting, bitter, waking dream.

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

Hoard!
Blare the horn —
Lies flood the land!
Feed soulless hordes — Bedlam’s brand!!!

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

Total Greed

“Progress” flushed the greed anew,
Paper money’s grand parade.
In the game of false gain’s view,
Greed becomes our nature made.

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

The Futility of Creation

Hard work done —
In vain, undone.
Will it be wiped away?
So much lies sway —
The rogue’s at play.
Gone, at last,
In Cloaca’s grasp.

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

Voices — Almost Psychiatric...

Inner voice, the chorus of fools:
Light burns INSIDE, away with all tools! —
Hear yourself, beware the deeds
That serve the herd, not deeper needs.

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

Voices — Near Madness

Voices roar — fools’ chorus wild,
Light’s inside — dump every child! —
Heed yourself, reject the games
Of “helpful” acts that feed the flames

Of shallow minds and hollow schemes,
Servants blind to others’ dreams.
Screw their ‘good,’ their fake applause—
Only spirit’s truth has cause!

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

Voices — Madness’ Edge

Light’s inside — fools to hell!
Screw their “help,” their shallow shell.
Fake goodwill? Just empty noise—
Listen close, reject the toys.

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

Sick World and Armageddon

A pitiful world, sick and weak,
Unaware it’s ill inside.
The simpleton, so mild and meek,
Keeps laws that bind and blind.

So health’s a question for the few —
The rare, dull herd that waits.
CowID showed what’s sadly true:
Patience seals their fates.

But some, the few who see it clear,
Know Death will bring release.
The end’s no fear, but burning near —
The Sun will scorch the peace.

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

Sick Mind and Global Chaos

Few admit they’re sick inside,
Before the Soul’s true sight.
So madness grows in fading tide —
A wretched life, more blight.

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

The Mind’s Health Worries

The mind’s health stirs few tender souls,
Most poor fools justify the lies.
They choke the truth — a bitter bone,
That grates and pricks the thinking wise.

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

The Struggle to Heal

"One condition to recover—
The will to get well."
— Seneca, first century

How sick the world, and rare to find
A soul who truly seeks the sane,
Chasing "success," "praise," or "joy,"
Denying doubt, suppressing pain.

And little by little (no debate!)
The world seems "normal," "I’m a star"—
This sickness shapes the mind’s dictate,
And fools will rally near and far...

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