41 poems

Nonsense

One bad thought won’t crush another,
One “first try” won't doom your brother —
No, they plant their filth with cunning,
That's how Reason takes a gunning.

Welcome, school. Then college, please —
Chains of lies from soulless fleas.
Monsters shake your soul to dust.
Every hardship? Man-made rust.

Genocide walks arm in arm
With the system — that's the charm.
Scum and fascists call the shots.
Bow to them — you're lower than rot.



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Descent into Savagery

Our folk keep sinking, going wild —
No will, no thought, no inner child.
Mass dementia — epidemic.
The state of things? Flat-out systemic.

We’re in the Madhouse, that’s our fate.
Where beasts and scum disseminate
A global lie with steady grin —
All else is fiction. Rot within.



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So-Called "Fourth Estate"

“Fourth Estate”? Just greasy fiction —
Real power hides in mass affliction.
The beasts are safe, you’ll never find
The bastard spawn of Dark behind.

Politics? A circus act,
While zombotubes distort the facts.
The sick agenda’s pushed with pride —
Their war-cry branded: CowID.

War games? As easy as a piss
For mutant freaks — they thrive on this.
No stunt too vile, no lie too grand —
They’re trained to trick, deceive, command.

These swine lie loud, without regret,
And herd the sheep into the net.
Three layers deep, their lies unfold —
The goat leads sheep to death, so bold.

He calls it "duty", "war", "construction" —
Just names for mass self-destruction.
If souls in sheep are long since dead —
The whole dumb herd is easy-led.



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Humusism
(or: The Cult of "Care")

A misanthrope won’t fake delight —
He smacks you with the truth outright.
But "humanists" will dig your grave
With smiles — like microbes well-behaved,

Breeding in their Petri dish.
The misanthrope may seethe and hiss,
But he won’t “heal” or preach or lie,
He won’t torment your soul with cries.

The ones who “heal” — they poison deep.
They build a cage where none can weep.
And all the idiots cheer with pride:
Their "care" just tripled. More to hide.



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Sheer Nonsense

Hordes of halfwits spew their trash,
Drowning minds in noisy clash.
Souls are crushed beneath their load —
Truth is rare on this broad road.

Smart ones? Few. They stay unseen.
Loudest liars fill the screen.
Trolls and schizos, frauds and freaks —
They pollute all online peaks.

Wisdom’s quiet, sharp, and clear —
But no one wants it anywhere.
They crave nonsense, bold and loud —
That’s what pleases the dumbest crowd.



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The Zombotube

Blue screen’s a trough
Of shameless lies and slough.
The sheep all drink their fill,
Glug down the poison still.

The whole “nation” penned and trapped,
This world’s a farm, all mapped.
One law rules all the same —
Be the FIRST sheep in the game.

Be the first sheep, get your prize —
Better swill before your eyes.
Blue screen glows bright and mean —
Only fools deserve this scene.



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Petty “Paradise”

Folly thrives in petty spite,
The core of slaves who lose their fight.
Like Titans, they bear on their backs
A monstrous lie—its crushing facts.

The master spreads the deepest dread,
Fear him—bite your neighbors instead.
There’s nothing left untouched, betrayed,
No truth that hasn’t been waylaid.

So gnaw your way through all you see,
Petty slave, take out on the free.
Eat, breed, and hoard your worthless heap—
Lies dress up slavery as sweet.



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Phantasmagorias

Karla Marla, Engel’s kin,
With their cash, this madhouse spin
As a cold, relentless beast —
Monsters shaping man, at least.

They claim the only force is might —
Production’s power, black and white.
Fools embraced this twisted tale,
Many lost, their spirits pale.

Forget all else — revere the Soul.
To selling snakes, assign their hole —
In cesspools deep, where scum belong.
We’re not dough to mold their throng.

Hear your Soul, and cast off chains,
See this Hell through different veins.
We’re in Hell, and all the lies —
Are beasts’ phantasms in disguise.

They kill the mind, enforce the cage,
Their rule is foul, a filthy stage.



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The Last Zombobuster

Rise up, Zombie, wake and fight!
March on humans — bring the light!
Push ahead, no time to stall —
Joy awaits to crush them all.

Few remain, the end is near:
Zombo-paradise is here.
Strain your strength, erase their trace —
They’ll be gone without a face.

Off the planet — beasts must fall.
The order’s clear: destroy them all.
The damned fool will take our place —
A cursed shadow on this race.



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Flight

To fly through fog without a guide,
Relying only on your stride.
Crash into cliffs or hills you might—
But freedom’s love makes that alright.

You risk much more with every try,
Yet death is better than to die
A slow decay in silent chains.
Intuition sharpens—gains

Its edge amid the soaring flight.
To live is only in this height.
All else is falsehood, shame, and gloom.
At journey’s end, you may resume—

Escape the vile, imprisoned ground,
A shameful cage where fools are bound.
So fly, ascend, into the light—
Only thus can you beat the Night.



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Hybrid Fascism

From Flycrap Town to Darkcockroach,
New Sarai, Europe — all encroach.
Under fascist filth they drown —
This whole damn world’s about to drown.

Fools and traitors, dumb and lost,
Brains depleted, paying cost.
Once so small, the mind’s supply —
Now just rot that multiplies.

Satan’s seedlings rise in rows,
Shameful fascism’s dog still grows.
Flycrap Town and Cockroach Swarm,
All consumed by falsehood’s storm.

They’ll be crushed by newest lies —
Hybrid lies that blind the eyes.



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Hybrid Fascism

Flycrap, Cockroach, filth and scum,
World’s on fire — fascists drum.
Fools and traitors sold their brains,
Rot and lies run in their veins.

Satan’s spawn in every crack,
Hybrid lies will crack their back.



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Hybrid Fascism

Flycrap, Cockroach, world’s a pit,
Fascist scum — we’ll never quit.
Brains are dead, fools march in line,
Rot and lies — their last decline.

Satan’s seed? We burn, we break!
Hybrid lies — the world will shake!



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Hybrid Fascism

Flycrap cesspit, Cockroach hive,
Fascist beasts still snarl and thrive.
Fools are brain-dead, sold their soul,
Rotting lies have seized control.

Satan’s spawn? We scorch, we maim!
Hybrid lies — burn in the flame!



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Hybrid Fascism — Inferno Call

Flycrap cesspit, Cockroach hive,
Fascist beasts still snarl and thrive.
Fools gone brain-dead, sold their soul,
Rotting lies have seized control.

Satan’s spawn in shadows creep,
Feeding lies, they sow and reap.
But we burn through night and flame —
Hybrid lies won’t stake their claim!



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Love and Passion

Love and passion — dull and hollow song,
When Creativity feels gone too long.
You plunge into this bland, gray sphere,
No distant Star to draw you near.

The Don Quixote, tragic, weak,
A poser mad and far from sleek...
For beasts like him, such days are bright —
Pitiful, alone in endless night.

True strength’s found where wise unite,
There real men stand in honor’s light.
Beloved there, a woman’s grace —
A mother’s heart, a warrior’s face.

But dreams, oh dreams — away, depart!
The Tempter’s poisoned every heart.
Eternal Night has sealed the day,
And stolen all the light away.



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Dolls and Psychos

Puppeteers pull strings and lead,
While the dolls go wild with speed.
Breaking free, they dance and stray,
Losing all their scripted way.

If they stray too far, replace—
Others take their puppets’ place.
Dolls still spin their endless dance,
Trust them? You’ve lost your chance.

Only doubt within the play
Keeps the mind from going stray.
Else you’re caught, a stubborn pawn,
In their game till hope is gone.



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Dolls and Psychos

Puppets dance, the masters grin,
Break the strings — they pull you in.
Trust the show? You’re cracked, insane.
Doubt alone can break the chain.



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Dolls and Psychos

Masters pull — puppets crawl,
Break their strings? You’ll take the fall.
Trust the lie — you’ve lost your mind.
Doubt’s the blade that frees mankind.



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Pathos

Piff-paff — that’s old news.
Piff-pathos better fuels.
“Our side wins everywhere” — they shout,
But the snout devours all about —
Darker than a stormy cloud,
Fascist scum in triumph proud.



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The Wave

A wave without a breaker’s shield—
What joy can such a crashfield yield?
Like a gang without a sawed-off gun,
The only rule: chaos won.

You cannot ride the wave’s full might
Unless you catch it in the light,
Near shore where depths are shallow, sure—
Where strength is pure, and less obscure.

But people? Shallow, blocked, and foul,
Obstacles and rot that howl.
Nasty spawn just feed them lies,
Dressed as breakers in disguise.

A scoundrel plays the breaker’s part,
While Satan holds the breaker’s heart.
Seek waves beyond the sheltered bay—
Or trapped you’ll waste your life away.



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Creature

Once a Being, strong and true —
Now a coward through and through.
Hard to scare back in the day —
Now they kill with fear’s decay.

All the fault lies deep in Soul —
Drowned in lies, it lost control.
Shed the falsehood, fight the pain,
Or you’ll become the goat’s domain.



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Consumblody

You consume — and they consume you!
A twisted world, upside-down view.
Beasts impose what seems mere whim,
But it’s the poison, dark and grim.

“Care” and “blessings” — empty lies,
You pay thrice over in disguise.
For every trash, each little treat,
Your soul’s gnawed by enemy’s teeth.



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The Zombotube

Not just a screen — a mind’s descend,
A valve that pushes thoughts to end.
The sheep who heed its every whim
Will serve the darkest law, so grim.

Here governments are just a mask,
The zombotube controls the task.
It drowns the sheep in stale decay,
Drives herds to slaughter every day.

New gates, free cheese — a deadly lure,
A global camp built to ensure
That “healing” sheep’s a poison deep.
If you still watch — your mind will sleep.

It turns you into nothing, cold —
A hollow shell, obedient, sold.



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Dreams and Splinters

Roses, tears, and dreams — all lies,
But splinters hurt — that’s no disguise.
Here’s the truth, both sharp and cold:
Tails grow long from nonsense told.

A tail now grows without delay,
Followed by fur thick in array.
It starts with fools who blindly trust,
Believing lies that breed their dust.

The scum prepares a brutal fate,
With brazen lies to execute hate.



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Incense

Burning incense
For wretched beasts,
Who pose as leaders
With empty feasts?
The world is full
Of fools and grime —
Sworn to serve
Darkness in time.

To seek some joy
In filth and pain,
To bow to scum
In slavish chain,
Lost all of higher things,
With broken minds,
Clutching vile mirages —
Lies through endless times.



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Evil, Blue, and Golden...

Even screens glow blue and bright,
Filled with “golden” shining light—
Super-useful gear and treats,
All the lies their ads repeat.
A kingdom made of foul deceit.

There the sheep will find the gate,
So “brand new” — but only fate
Keeps the fools from marching in,
Into this new paradise of sin.
One tale ends, another’s grin.

Endless cycle, mind’s decay,
Killed by filth along the way.
The swift result — a soulless brood,
Only soulless feed on crude.



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The Pot and the Perks

A poet’s pot,
A wise man’s box —
Supposed to help,
But spews the shocks.
Looks like you’ve drunk too deep,
Only Evil holds the keep...
If you live — you’ve lost the fight,
Decay will drag you into night.



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A Barrel of Sky and Spoon of Ego

A barrel of sky,
A spoon of ego —
What you get is nothing but woe.
To hell with lies,
To demons’ ease —
Only mindfulness can bring you peace!
Ego fouls
Without remorse,
Even Heaven —
Be wise, of course,
Or else you’ll be
A vile disgrace,
Till time runs out
And ends the race.



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Brave Souls or Scoundrels?

Once brave souls snap like sticks,
No patience, just sly tricks.
Their hearts are foul, no grace—
No goal, just ego’s race.

It happens all too fast,
When “I” defeats at last.
You fall down deep and blind,
If reason’s left behind.

But if you heed your mind—
Your soul and heart aligned—
You’ll dodge the wicked lies,
The madhouse in disguise.



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Bright Faith in Global Fascism

I believe, I truly do,
That fascism watches through.
I open doors with pride —
Only fools will run and hide.

I know I’ll be cared for well,
Surrounded by their spell.
Get lost, you idiots — beware!
Don’t believe? Then stay out there!



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Fools and Fleas

Being a fool’s not bad at all —
Even fleas can make you fall,
Lefties skilled to take their toll,
On that market, dark and full.

Plenty craftsmen crowd the place,
Clients lost without a trace.
Soulless many—beware, stay clear:
No spark of God? That’s rot, my dear.

To cheat all fools — become the chief...
They’re like fleas, in stench and grief.
Fascist filth that’s foul and mean,
A world that’s rotten, sick, and lean.



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Samsarababa

Samsara-baba —
Like a toad, not queen,
Too wrathful, self-absorbed,
No happy scene.

With her, no joy you’ll find,
Indulge her will —
Your Spirit’s killed.
She strives to bend,
To break your mind,
Reject that filth,
Darkness designed
To crush the soul through daily grind.

Forgotten Spirit means no love
Can bloom within the home above.
The end is woman’s spite and hell —
A family cursed, a living cell.
You’re just a pest within that pit,
Her sting’s no bee’s — it hardens it.

Dreams turn wild — the mind derails,
Spirit’s core and creative tales.
Without them, you become the thrall
Of darkness, family, and all.

Remember this not with your head,
But heart instead. Your song’s not dead,
Unless you dwell in couch-bound hell,
Where rot and wounds and madness dwell.

Leave the madhouse — let it rage!
It’s demon’s work, a cursed stage.
Evil triumphs all around,
Fatal truth in every sound.

Except the Spirit’s shining light,
The source of all creative might.
Others are just empty hearsay.
Ignite your soul, burn bright today!

Create — if mind’s not dull and blind.
Let passion guide your will and mind.



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Samsarababa

Samsara-baba, wrathful toad,
No queen of peace, but poison’s code.
Bend her will — you lose your soul,
Break the chains, regain control!

Darkness schemes through daily grind,
Kills the Spirit, blinds the mind.
Leave the hell, ignite your spark,
Shine your light into the dark!

Create with fire, break the lies,
Only Spirit never dies!



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Madness

Replacing madness
With madness — mind’s way,
If you honor
This realm every day.
The soul knows truth
Direct and clear,
Mind obeys it —
Then shadows appear.

You’ll glimpse the world’s core
By trying to see,
But forcing the mind
Just breeds insanity.

You’ll be conscious
If Spirit’s your king.
Madness tortures —
The fiend rules this thing.

Only intuition
Will lead your mind
To clarity’s light.
Secret tradition won’t lie.



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Super-Efforts

The impossible becomes the true,
The possible’s just worthless goo.
Ride the hardest, climb the steep,
And all your doubts will cease to creep.

Fears will fade, madness depart,
Ego shrinks, a broken part.
Super-tasks and super-strides —
The path where only few reside.

Impossible — the Spirit’s core,
The possible — a living war.
Shed the lies, the filth, the noise,
Or stay a worm among the toys.



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Super-Efforts

Impossible’s the Spirit’s way,
Possible’s just led astray.
Push beyond, defy the odds,
Or stay crushed beneath the gods.



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Freaks Without Freedom

Without freedom,
Only freaks are born.
Humans—shame, nature’s scorn.
All our ills, artificial seed,
Satan’s legacy, dark breed.

Inhuman fiends hold every throne,
“They’ll be last, the first are shown...”
Believe those beasts? You’re lost, condemned.
Don’t believe—fight to the end!

Though chances thin, the fools surround,
And everywhere, wild madness sounds.



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Freaks Without Freedom

No freedom spawns just freaks and shame,
Nature’s curse, a broken game.
Fiends rule dark with lies that bind —
Fight, don’t bow, or lose your mind!



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Freaks Without Freedom

No freedom breeds pure freaks and scum,
Nature’s shame, the devil’s drum.
Fiends hold power, lies their sword —
Fight or rot, you’ve lost the war.



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Freaks Without Freedom

No freedom spawns a twisted breed,
Filthy freaks, disease and greed.
Dark fiends rule with venomed lies,
Fight or rot — no compromise.