56 poems

Fascism

The idiots still “think” it’s gloom —
No light, no noodles for illusion.
But “Communism”? Same perfume —
It stinks inside with same delusion.

Fascists forever preach “the fight” —
“For people’s good! For bright tomorrow!”
Their “battle pipe” blows day and night —
“All ringed by foes! So fear and sorrow!”

And those who doubt — must feel the lash,
“For their own good,” they say, while grinning.
Obedience first, revolt is trash —
That’s how the nightmare keeps on spinning.

Fascism’s here — it never slept,
It shows one side of every story.
They blame old Hitler’s twisted step,
Yet lie today with twice the glory.

Far worse than ever now it grows,
Each door is open, none can close it —
Fascism walks where Freedom goes —
And darkness thickens as it knows it.



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Fascism’s mask — the same old face,
It smiles, then burns another place.



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1.
They call it peace — but load the guns,
And bless the blood of “chosen ones.”

2.
It wears new flags, but smells the same —
The beast just changed its bloody name.

3.
Fascism’s back — no need to call.
It never left. It runs it all.



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May every lie that built their reign
Return as fire, pain for pain.
Let blind obedience eat their soul —
Till ashes whisper: This was control.



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In Memory of N;g;rjuna

“There is no birth.
There is no death.
No first.
No last.
Nothing the same.
Nothing apart.
Nothing that rises.
Nothing that falls.”
— N;g;rjuna


Dead-born children of the dead —
That’s most of them. But was It born?
And how will That one die instead,
When even Death’s too worn, too torn?

No birth, no start — the stench began
In some gray age beyond all knowing.
And still it spreads, from man to man —
Each rat keeps digging, never slowing.

All filth the same — it fills the lair,
Pretending each is someone’s creature.
A “species” now, if one should care —
A sub-class of the lowest feature.

Stillborn, sightless, rotten souls,
How could they die, who never were?
No Mind, no Spirit — just black holes,
Decay alive, obscene, impure.

For those soulless — death’s cold relief,
A numb escape, a final favor.
But those with Soul — beyond this grief,
Are passed to worlds of finer flavor.

And if this world stays dull and fake,
Let Hell itself the payment take.



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1.
No birth. No death. No soul to mend —
Just rot that calls itself “the end.”

2.
They call it “life” — a walking tomb,
Where corpses talk and flowers bloom.

3.
No death for those who never live —
The Void takes back what fools won’t give.

4.
Born dead — they fear to die.
The lie outlives the lie.



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No birth, no death — the cycle lies,
The blind adore their own demise.
The void still laughs — it’s seen before:
The dead just call themselves “once more.”



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Homo Potentialus

Man is not born wise — just given scope
To earn that name or drown in shallow.
Truth in this world’s a sickly trope;
Its chiefest aim — to dull your marrow.

Dumbing-down’s a factory floor:
They call it “raising” — neat deception.
Lies spread like ketchup — more and more,
And talent dies by slow infection.

So you must labour, ant-like, still,
To forge a mind both sharp and honest;
Or rotten chains will have their fill,
And fascism will creep from every closet.

That fascism is the mind’s result —
Not peace, but global madhouse screaming.
If you are sensitive and adult,
Then fight the beast; don’t feed its scheming.



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1.
Born half-awake, they call it “man” —
Then kill the mind as best they can.

2.
To think is pain, to serve is peace —
Thus minds are broken by degrees.

3.
They teach you rules, erase your flame —
Then name submission “mind” and “shame.”

4.
He could be more —
But crawls instead.
The slave is born
Before he’s dead.



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They forged his chains, then called it “school,”
They taught obedience — named it rule.
He could be Mind — yet chose the yoke,
And worships lies the whipmen spoke.



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The “Wealth” of Plots

Shakespeare said that all the plots
Can boil down to the main four themes.
Here lie the answers, cold as cots,
To why we rot instead of dreams.

Nature’s variety spreads much more
Than that small world of fools and leeches,
Where monsters rule and others bow,
And slavery thrives in countless breaches.

The time has come to tie the knot —
The end is grim; the madhouse burns.
All masks of evil fall, and rot
Will choke the lies for which it yearns.

The circus cannot last for long —
It shames the very Roots of All.
And soon the Sensitive will dream
Of normal worlds beyond the thrall.



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1.
The madhouse burns, the masks fall down —
No throne for fools, no kingly crown.

2.
All plots are dust, all lies expire —
The circus dies in Nature’s fire.

3.
The fools will fade, the Sensitive rise —
A world unchained before their eyes.

4.
Evil falls, the Roots stand tall —
The madhouse ends; the truth outpalls.



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The madhouse burns, the masks are torn,
No fools, no kings — the lies are worn.
The Sensitive will see the light,
A world unchained, beyond the night.



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Trash Among Filth

Trash among the filth,
The F;hrer and the Kremlin’s spawn.
The rest is empty —
To… be shot… at dawn.

Filth — the idiots, trash
Now serve as cops and spies.
The Doppelg;nger F;hrer reigns,
Kremlin only barks and lies.

Teeth are broken —
By their own garbage.
The “army” blown to bits —
The clever “war god” ravage.

Don’t fire at civilians
With “armies” blind and dumb.
The Mind went partisan —
Destroy that Mind, then some.

It’s been going on —
A global madhouse reigns.
Nenka will prevail —
Orcs crash after pains.

All the Kremlin’s hanged,
Doppelg;ngers on spikes.
Oh, how these creatures vex…
Yet irony strikes like knives.

The horror’s almost laughable,
Soon it will reach the brim.
For the clever, it’s amusement,
For the idiot, only grim.



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1.
Trash and filth, the F;hrers fall —
The dumb still stumble, mindless all.

2.
Teeth are broken, armies blown —
The clever laughs; the fools bemoan.

3.
The madhouse reigns, but soon will die —
Orcs and Doppelg;ngers will fry.

4.
Filth will hang, the masks will break —
The idiot mourns what fools forsake.



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Trash and filth will hang in view,
The masks will break, the lies undo.
The clever laugh, the fools despair —
The madhouse crumbles everywhere.



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Vidya

Before the stage of “form’s birth,”
Super-consciousness is pure, alive.
This is vidya — wisdom as the norm:
All is open, fully to contrive.

But then activity begins to stir —
And darkness thickens, pressing near.
If you lose the soul’s bright vigor,
Fear and deceit will then appear.

Illusions rise — artificial, sly,
Created from lies’ dark design.
If you don’t fight — your mind will die,
Leaving only mirages to confine.

The victim’s “consciousness” consumed
By Satan’s world, infernal and small.
Look around — the dead abound…
Almost all… discard it all.

Strive to break from Hell once more,
Return to vidya, save your soul.
For lingering long in fear and lies
Will rot the spirit, swallow it whole.

The soulless goal of Hell’s domain,
The state of mind — an idiot’s throne.
All arranged as tyranny and pain:
They strike the Mind and Spirit alone.

Yet Light is stronger than all the Dark.
Only in Light will you find release.
And for your neighbors you are charged —
Bring the Light, or rot in Hell’s crease.



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1.
Darkness rises, lies conspire —
Only Light can lift the fire.

2.
Stay in Hell too long, you’ll rot —
Save your Soul, or lose the lot.

3.
Fear and lies will gnaw the mind,
Light alone leaves chains behind.

4.
The Spirit fights, the darkness bleeds —
Bring the Light, or death proceeds.



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Darkness rises, lies conspire,
Fear devours, yet Light’s the fire.
Save your Soul, bring Truth to bear —
Or rot in Hell, in foul despair.



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The Under-Reality of Fools

The under-reality of fools,
Where clear thought hardly flies.
Wallets, bags command the rules,
While minds breed fear, deceit, and lies.

Within the Soul remains so little
Of Light, of spiritual might.
Propaganda’s sting will bite and whittle,
And school’s sole aim is dumbness bright.

Pawns in Bedlam, half-supplied,
Resistance works at quarter power.
Count yourself lucky, if you’ve survived,
Not schizoid, not idiot — by the hour.

Count yourself blessed if your Soul
Endures the madhouse vile and grim,
If you listened to lies but half,
And still retain some warmth and vim.

Here lies are total, cheats persist,
They wound the mind, they scar the heart.
Recovery comes with patient twist —
Years will heal what lies did part.

If you resolve to heal yourself,
Reject the filth that clogs your core,
The stinking Hell drags on by stealth —
Assigned to all by fate’s cruel law.

But if you shatter that foul fate —
You soar to Reality’s bright domain.
You cannot rise if you trust the hate
Of petty fiends, of Minor Cain.

Do not believe, resist, seek truth
Always WITHIN, cast traps aside,
Those snares that masquerade as light —
A squirrel’s nuts, in a wheel, they hide.



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1.
Fools rule here, their lies abound —
Seek within, or rot is found.

2.
Half the lies you hear, half the truth you keep —
Yet Hell devours while idiots sleep.

3.
The soul survives, the fools decay —
Inside lies Light to lead the way.

4.
Reject the filth, resist the snare —
Your Soul’s the prize, if you dare.



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Fools rule the world, their lies entwine,
Resist, seek truth, reclaim what’s mine.
Reject the filth, defy the snare,
The Soul survives — if you dare.



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Paintings of Salvador Dal;: “Soft Self-Portrait with Fried Bacon,” “The Dream,” and “Saint Sebastian”

Dal; vanished into distance, loving
Wife, money, honor, praise.
His self-portrait wasn’t for himself —
It showed the idiot’s maze.

From fat and lard he made a stage,
Reflecting madness of the world,
Lost in greed and fear’s cruel cage,
Mammon’s the idol, banners unfurled.

Just like for Dal; — props abound,
Else madness and fat would flow.
Like bones for beasts, the lies surround,
Supporting all we think we know.

This world stands only on deceit,
And power thrives through cruel control.
Props, chains, whips, and “law” repeat —
They crush all minds, and groans patrol.

Saint Sebastian on the props:
The stilts of liars hold the price,
While Pure Spirit hides in backyards,
And all are caught in total war’s vice,

Where Mind is killed, head on the props,
They stupefy with “science” bright,
The brain a bed of straw and logs,
Deaf to truth, asleep in fright.

Destroy the props, the stilts, the lies —
Send falsehoods of the world to waste.
Blow your trumpet at global fascism —
Show your style, and strike with taste.



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1.
Props and lies prop up the fools —
Smash them all, defy the rules.

2.
Madness reigns, the straw-filled brain —
Destroy the props, let truth remain.

3.
Saints on stilts, the world’s a lie —
Strike fascism, or rot and die.

4.
Lies crumble when the Mind stands tall —
Blow the trumpet, topple all.



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Props and lies keep idiots high,
Crush them all, let falsehoods die.
Saints on stilts, the world’s a lie —
Blow the trumpet, truth will fly.



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Inciting Interethnic Strife

It takes but little to divide:
Twist the dumb lies just a bit.
Hire vile scum who’ll crawl inside,
And multiply the chaos writ.

Then violence spreads among the nations,
They’ll call these lies their “sacred ties.”
Hardship appears at first illusions,
A mirage before the truth belies.

Propaganda soon will scream,
Then come the calls: “Attack! Assault!”
And cannons boom in deadly scheme —
Differentiate the worthless vault.

Both sides are fed with lies and madness,
Yet crafted so attacks can start.
For strife and hate, all seems harmless
Until deceit corrupts the heart.

Rot spreads through any given land,
Where monsters rule and clowns protect.
Fascism crawls in every strand,
Its law a filthy, vile defect.

Smash all the lies — “foundations,” “ties,”
Expose propaganda’s hollow play.
Rot reigns there, naked to the wise,
Madness laughs, and Heaven’s just a sway.



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1.
Twist the lies, the scum will crawl —
Fools call it “ties,” but rot enthralls.

2.
Propaganda screams, the cannons roar —
All built on lies we must abhor.

3.
Rot rules the land, the clowns protect —
Fascism wears a different sect.

4.
Expose the lies, defy their play —
Madness laughs; Heaven’s far away.



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




Twist the lies, the scum will crawl,
Fools call it “ties,” but rot enthralls.
Expose the fraud, defy their play —
Madness laughs; Heaven’s far away.



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The Estates

Playing “doctor,” playing cop,
Yet in the end — a human lost.
At first, mere bustle, surface swap,
Then in the Soul, a hole, a cost.

Corruption grows, the Spirit flies,
What stays is “importance” — rot.
That rot becomes a cesspool, lies,
A vessel where the Devil’s got.

So many are these “ours,” these props,
The so-called “stronghold” of a land.
Not country, but estates of slops,
Where humans fall beneath the hand.

Where is the wrath, the vengeance high,
If devils breed within our ground?
No answer comes — the Devil’s nigh,
And few resist; the War is found.

They kill the Mind, the Soul, the spark,
These servants of infernal might.
And ears have withered from the dark,
Their lies inflame the endless night.



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1.
Rot rules the land, the Devil reigns —
Souls crushed beneath his endless chains.

2.
“Country” here is just estates —
Where humans fall to Devil’s fates.

3.
Minds and Souls are slain, hearts burned —
From lies and scum, no truth is earned.

4.
The Devil’s god, the War begun —
Few resist, the battle’s won.



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Rot rules the land, the Devil reigns,
Souls crushed beneath his endless chains.
“Country” here is just estates of scum,
Few resist, the battle’s won, they’re numb.



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Shift of Accents

For sporty “onanism,”
Prepare the fools’ new age.
“Education” like an enema
Drains the blood from every page.

Think only with the ass, they say —
Develop the main muscle well.
Chew more, spit on Honor, play
Where Conscience dies, and rot will dwell.

A slight shift of the accents —
Generations sent to waste.
Excrement is crowned as “spiritual,”
Reason rots, lies interlaced.

Frauds, substitutions, traps abound,
And endless lies fill every space.
Spirit should reign in human ground,
Not body — yet layers hide the case.

So many shifts, so many lies!
The zombie emerges from this brew.
Today’s zombie army multiplies —
Aggression marks that idiot’s view.

A horde of filth and wretched spawn
Drives zombies always to the kill.
Everything drowns in fascist dawn,
While creatures fight the Mind and Will.



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1.
Zombies march, their minds erased —
Spirit crushed, humanity disgraced.

2.
Shift the focus, rot the soul —
Bodies strong, but minds pay toll.

3.
Fools chew, Conscience dies,
The Mind drowned in fascist lies.

4.
Spirit reigns where body falls —
Zombies heed the devil’s calls.



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Zombies march, their minds erased,
Conscience crushed, humanity disgraced.
Bodies strong, but Spirit falls,
Fascist lies enslave us all.



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Answer

The worse it gets, the better still —
This filth rules here with iron will.
Piles of vile lies everywhere,
And with those lies comes cruel despair.

Trash and petty wars abound,
Fascism, genocide, all around.
The Psych Ward of the world endures,
While chaos rages, truth obscures.

The last trump card here is clear —
Few minds remain; the goats appear.
Demons multiply, beyond control,
Hell embodied swallows the whole.

Heaven thins, its light grows faint,
As Darkness thickens, vile and quaint.
Dung flies swarm over filth’s domain,
The Spirit cries, yet none restrain.

Now subtract the few that shine,
All left served on plates malign.
Prisons rise, oppression’s law,
Global fascism shows its maw.

Armies of scum march day and night,
Cry, scream — it changes not a mite.
When Heaven thins, the Light will pour,
For fiends, the reckoning’s in store.



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1.
Darkness thickens, fiends march on,
Heaven fades, but Light lives on.

2.
Global fascism, scum in line —
Few remain, yet Spirit shines.

3.
Piles of lies, the world’s a Hell,
But Light will strike, the fiends will fell.

4.
Fiends abound, Heaven thins,
Yet Light returns where Truth begins.



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Darkness thickens, fiends march on,
Heaven fades, but Light lives on.
Piles of lies, the world’s a Hell,
Yet Truth will strike, and fiends will fell.



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Verbal Diarrhea

"Deep in Siberia’s mines, preserve
Your noble patience, keep your nerve.
Your mournful labor will not fade,
And lofty thought shall bear its grade."
— A.S. Pushkin, 1827


Let my sad labor vanish, fade,
Let me disappear without a trace.
Here honored is the one who’s paid
By lies, who strengthens darkness’ place.

No hope remains — the fool believes
In tidy plots and easy schemes.
Traitor, “doctor,” spy deceives —
Their doors swing wide for crooked dreams.

Love exists in myths alone —
A wretched slave cannot adore.
The Mind here weak, all reason gone,
The fools summed up by total war.

Total lies — the basis made
For wars today, their cruel charade.
“Freedom” serves Satan’s wicked hand,
Chains imposed across the land.

Prisons will fall — no bounds remain
For digital shackles, endless pain.
The world becomes a herd, confined,
Branded with numbers, all aligned.

“Deep in Siberia’s mines” they scheme
Beneath Davos, plotting lies extreme,
Drowning all in verbal filth and spite,
A plague of words that blinds the light.



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1.
Lies abound, the fools obey —
Darkness thrives, and minds decay.

2.
Freedom sold to Satan’s hand,
Chains imposed across the land.

3.
The world a herd, all branded, bound,
Drowned in filth, no truth is found.

4.
Total lies, the Mind enslaved —
Yet Spirit fights, the brave are saved.



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Lies abound, the fools obey,
Darkness thrives, and minds decay.
The world a herd, all branded, bound,
Yet Spirit fights, the brave are found.



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Inquisition

Inquisitions in the fire —
Hardly efficient, just a show.
To turn your mind to dust, entire,
And make obedient cattle go.

That’s the purpose, that’s the aim
Of global Satan’s wicked game.
You hide in cracks, afraid, withdrawn,
Dreading the city guard at dawn.

But out they’ll drag you from your nook,
And send you off to half-Earth camps,
With “Red Cross” proudly on the flag,
While human misery expands.

Wars and hunger kept in store —
A syringe or trash works even more.
Old gas attacks? Too outdated here —
They strike with lies, in “sporty” cheer.

Super-sport: the fool’s top prize
Goes to the traitor, spy, and lies.
If you betray, if you inform —
You’re theirs, their perfect uniform.

Humanism and such nonsense here
Are just a ruse in this nightmare.
That nonsense causes greater harm
Than cannons, tanks, or open alarm.

With this nonsense, lull to sleep,
Then with a needle end the weak.
Even for fun, it’s done with ease,
A slow, precise, delightful tease.

The super-prize is spent so fast,
Faster than burning ever lasts.
For there goes the fool himself,
To needles, battles, and his wealth.



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1.
Fools march to needles, lies in hand,
Obedient cattle roam the land.

2.
Super-sport: the traitor wins,
While human cruelty spins and spins.

3.
Needles, lies, the world a game,
Fools and fiends are all the same.

4.
Mind to dust, obedience gained —
Global Satan’s sport unchained.



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Fools march to needles, lies in hand,
Obedient cattle roam the land.
Mind to dust, obedience gained —
Global Satan’s sport unchained.



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The “Like — Dislike” Scheme

Like — dislike:
“Thinks”… the imbecile.
Opportunity strikes:
Like — he grabs the pile.

Impunity reigns —
You’ll kill the beast.
The scheme’s well-tested ways —
Rot alive, to say the least.

Life is not just black and white,
The human world, a different plane.
“Brave” fools unite to fight,
All together, feeding pain.

This fight’s called —
“Bite your own tail.”
Reason decays
In this struggle, doomed to fail.

Only STUPID SCHEMES —
This is genocide,
The theme of dumbing down,
Shame imposed worldwide.

For it’s not reason here —
Just mimicry, fake,
And Earth infected by
Such a foolish stake.

Anti-entropy
Is what the world requires,
Not those “daring” piles
Of CRAP, feeding liars.



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1.
Fools unite, their reason gone,
Biting tails, the world moves on.

2.
Stupid schemes, they rot the mind,
Shame and lies are all we find.

3.
Like — dislike, impunity,
Rot alive, no sanity.

4.
Earth needs order, not their lies,
Crap and fools before our eyes.



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Fools unite, their reason gone,
Biting tails, the world moves on.
Stupid schemes and lies abound,
Earth needs order, not their ground.



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Official Nonsenseology

Official mythology —
A set of primitive lies.
Its main point: ideology,
To serve the scum that never dies.

A layer of fluff and cream,
Nonsense that cannot embed.
For the clever, there’s the scheme —
How to leave a trace in the dread.

Yet every trace drowns in the cream,
And dig too deep, you’ll face the grime:
Here you either stay unseen,
Or speak a lie, obey the rhyme.

For half-truths you must dispense,
Considering all that creamy mess.
Bravado in the madhouse makes no sense —
Few will hear, the rest suppress.

“Free” here are already few,
The record scratched to utter scrap.
One tool remains — sarcasm’s cue,
Strike Bedlam, cut the trap.

Undermine their mythology,
All consensus-based, vile and fed.
Take the psychology into account —
The harm of DUMBING down is widespread.



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1.
Official lies, a creamy mess,
Strike the scum — expose the stress.

2.
Consensus fools, all dumbing down,
Sarcasm cuts through their crown.

3.
Trace drowns in nonsense thick and vile,
Fight Bedlam’s fraud, expose their guile.

4.
Half-truths rule, the clever weep,
Strike their myths, the scum to keep.



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Official lies, a creamy mess,
Strike the scum — expose the stress.
Consensus fools, all dumbing down,
Sarcasm cuts through their crown.



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



The Burden of Time

Don’t bother with plans or “projects” grand,
Don’t write your books, your songs, your rhymes.
When I was an outlaw, I was in demand —
But art? No one cares. Not in these times.

I’ve built the hardest game on Earth —
And who will need it? No one, friend.
Had I played the thug of greater worth,
I’d hit the bull’s-eye in the end.

I know the “laws” this world obeys,
Where justice rots and lies parade.
The ones who serve, who lick and praise —
They thrive. The wise? They just decay.

Yes — the fool ascends, the brave must crawl,
And I, the poet, waste my breath.
To write here’s useless — that is all.
It’s trading truth for empty death.

Yet what’s the point of cash and time,
If all’s Bedlam’s shame, a filthy scam?
Death waits — she’ll hold my stirrup prime,
But better I leap — and crash — than damn.

For verse itself’s a way to fall,
To burn, to scream, to rip the veil.
And if I’m reborn as a toad, that’s all —
At least I’ll find a pond, not a sewered jail.



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Death waits — she’ll hold my stirrup tight,
Better I leap than rot in blight.
The world thrives on fools who crawl,
But I’ll burn, scream, and risk it all.



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The F;hrer and the Bedlam

The “clear-faced” F;hrer
Leads all the orcs in line.
So culture’s dead here —
An idiot claims to shine.

But he does not command —
It’s a cargo cult affair:
Duplicate levitator,
And Kremlin’s sporty scare.

So comes the “physical” training:
Needles, junk, parade,
Run boldly, never frowning —
Attack! The plan is laid.

Their schemes are plenty,
Yet powder’s running thin.
Feel sorry for the fool?
No — the meat must spin.

For cargo cults, the flesh must live,
To feed the grinder’s game.
And if the junk’s not killed in time —
The whole Bedlam dies in shame.



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1.
F;hrer leads, the orcs obey,
Idiot rules — Bedlam’s way.

2.
Cargo cults and needles run,
The meat must live — the fool’s undone.

3.
Schemes are plenty, powder thin,
All will rot — Bedlam’s sin.

4.
Run, attack, the idiot thrives,
Meat and madness, all survives.



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F;hrer leads, the orcs obey,
Idiot rules — Bedlam’s way.
Cargo cults and needles run,
The meat must live — the fool’s undone.



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Nightmares

“Nightmares, damn it, nightmares, damn it, nightmares!”
From a criminal song.


The nightmare repeats —
The rulers’ inhuman creed.
But nightmares aren’t for free —
The people pay; they signed the deed.

To follow the so-called “laws,”
To trust all lies in total sway.
All the stupid motherfuckers,
Serve the vile, and kneel, obey.

And play a part in these nightmares
Through treachery, through toil,
Through indulgence. Losers proud
Of their own filth and spoil.

That filth is called a formation,
A clan, sometimes a state.
From one disaster to the next —
Don’t shy from war, accept your fate.

War and pandemic plague,
Soon famine grips the globe.
If lies can blow your mind away —
Offer up an empty skull as tribute.



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




Nightmares repeat, the rulers rule,
The fools obey, the world a ghoul.
From war to plague, from lies to pain,
The empty skulls are all that remain.