74 poems
The bull terrier clears each bar—
Half-measures never get too far.
Genocide creeps, then gains its speed,
Turbocharged through CowID.
War makes all the faster run;
Hell's Dark Master soon has come.
One last cry—"Attack!"—is cast:
Not the wretched... we fall last.
---------------------
The Bull Terrier Called "Fascism"
Over every fence it flies,
Scorning every compromise.
Slow begins the killing tide—
CowID becomes its stride.
War accelerates the race;
From the Pit comes Satan's face.
One last order: "Sic!"—too late...
Not the fools—we meet our fate.
---------------------
Cogworld
A little cog got jab on cue,
Fake-plague potion, toxic brew.
Mindless fool in all he sees,
Cheap at heart with vulgar ease.
Cogworld rots in foul disease.
---------------------
Cogworld
A tiny cog received his shot,
Fake-disease's poison draught.
Thoughtless fool in head and speech,
Petty soul beyond all reach.
Cogworld is a festering breach.
---------------------
Screw-World
A little screw got dosed one day
With sham-disease's toxic spray.
Brain-dead thinking, spirit slack,
Soul as vulgar as it's black.
Screw-World is a rotten wreck.
---------------------
The Eight-Thousandth Poem (in Russian)
So many years gone,
Yet verses marched on.
More fools now abound,
More chains lock us down;
More lies fill the air,
More fear everywhere.
Such is this age—
The poet's sole rage,
If honest and true,
Is shouting, "No!"
He shatters the Lies
That darken the skies.
The meek-hearted cheat,
By falsehoods made weak,
Still crawls as a slave
To fear and the grave.
Cry "No!"—that alone
When monsters have grown.
Say less—and you'll be
One more fool on your knee.
---------------------
The Eight-Thousandth Poem in Russian
Long years disappeared
In poems well speared.
More fools fill the land,
More shackles command;
More terror, more lies—
No end in our eyes.
The honest bard knows
One answer alone:
A thunderous "No!"
Against global show.
The coward betrays,
Enslaved by the haze
Of fear and deceit—
He kneels in defeat.
Cry "No!" while they attack,
Or join the whole damned pack.
---------------------
The Last Gulliver
Gadgets bind with silken thread;
Tiny screens shrink every head.
Gone the last Gulliver here,
Lost in lies, fascism, and fear.
---------------------
Cog in the Net
Gadgets weave their binding net;
Little people, screen-bound yet.
Last Gulliver breathed his last
Midst of lies and fascist cast.
---------------------
Gadget Magic
Gadget's got you, tightly tied;
Nets become the chains of mind.
Last Gulliver passed away
Where lies and fascist measures reign.
---------------------
The Rabbit Hole's Depth
Down the Rabbit Hole we race—
Never time to breathe in place.
Time to climb back out once more,
From warm stench to Light and Frost.
---------------------
The Rabbit Hole
Down the Rabbit Hole we slide;
No more room to breathe inside.
Time to leave that reeking den,
Meet the Light—and Frost again.
---------------------
Depth of the Rabbit Hole
Deeper still the Rabbit calls;
Breath grows short within its walls.
Out we climb—it's long past due:
From warm rot to Frost and Truth.
---------------------
The Hunched Goblin
Hunched the goblin, bowed with strain—
Life's a harness, chain on chain.
Not on Volga barges—see:
Fools now drag society.
---------------------
Goblin Burden
Crooked goblin, bent and worn,
Life in harness, dusk till morn.
Not the haulers of old lore—
Foolish citizens pull more.
---------------------
Harnessed World
Goblin's stooped beneath the load;
Life's one never-ending yoke.
Not the Volga's barge-haul crew—
Citizens, the witless few.
---------------------
The Hunched Goblin
Hunched the goblin, crushed by load;
Life's a harness, bleak abode.
Not the Volga's barge-haul crew—
Citizens, the witless, do.
---------------------
The Hunched Goblin
Hunched the goblin, bent with pain;
Life's forever hitched in chain.
No Volga haulers haul today—
Foolish citizens pull away.
---------------------
The Gloomy Guru
Gloomy guru drones on high
Of lofty truths that touch the sky.
Yet one-sided heights descend,
Beauty twists to freakish end.
---------------------
Guru's Sermon
Gloomy guru, grave and wise,
Preaches lofty truths and skies.
Crooked heights sink ever low;
Beauty leaves, and freaks now grow.
---------------------
High Talk
Gloomy guru chants of Height,
Wrapped in solemn robes of light.
Lopsided heights collapse at last;
Beauty turns to ugliness.
---------------------
The Gloomy Guru
Gloomy guru speaks sublime,
Lofty visions, timeless rhyme.
One-sided heights can only fall;
Beauty ends grotesque for all.
---------------------
Dispatch to Ganesha
Dispatch to Ganesha:
"Rush into the china store!
Give the fools one crushing roar—
Or the Devil melts them down forevermore."
---------------------
A Message to Ganesha
A message sent to Ganesh:
"Storm the china shop afresh!
Teach those fools a lesson rough,
Else the Devil claims their stuff."
---------------------
Memo to Ganesha
Memo sent to Ganesha:
"To the china shop—make haste!
Let the fools all feel the crash,
Or the Devil melts their ash."
---------------------
Dispatch to Ganesha
Dispatch to Ganesha:
"To the china shop—make haste!
Give the fools a proper thrashing,
Or the Devil melts them into slag."
---------------------
Wind-Up Fool
A wind-up fool, now old and gray,
Still hunts "Happyness" every day.
Shakes with fear at every sound,
Never peace or courage found.
Lies and fear feed "Happyness"
Like cold storms feed blossoms—yes:
Leave them long beneath that sky,
Beauty fades... and flowers die.
---------------------
Clockwork Boy
A clockwork boy, now old with years,
Chases "Happyness" through fears.
Every shadow makes him shake;
Every lie—another break.
Lies and fear make "Happyness"
Bloom like flowers in distress:
Keep them long in rain and cold—
Beauty withers, pale and old.
---------------------
Wind-Up Dummy
A wind-up dummy, old at last,
Still hunts "Happyness"—holding fast.
Quakes with fear both night and day,
Watching courage waste away.
Lies and fear grow "Happyness"
Like harsh storms make flowers bless:
Leave them long in wind and rain—
Beauty scarcely will remain.
---------------------
Wind-Up Fool
A wind-up fool, now old and worn,
Still seeks "Happyness" every morn.
Quakes with fear at every sound,
While false dreams keep spinning round.
Lies and fear feed "Happyness"
Like storms nourish blossoms—yes:
Leave them long beneath that sky,
Beauty fades... and flowers die.
---------------------
The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth
The meek shall claim the Earth one day—
The vampires all will flee away.
Fools believe each lying speech:
First spread fear, then falsehood preach;
Promise wonders, promise bliss,
Paradise with one false kiss—
Then divide the loaf with pride:
Butter goes to those who lied.
Bowls and crumbs for fools instead—
Back to work. Keep your head.
---------------------
Inheritance
The meek inherit Earth at last—
Watch the vampires flee aghast!
Fools embrace each crafted lie:
Scare them first, then promise sky;
Promise paradise and bread—
Dreams to fill each empty head.
Share the loaf? The rich take cream;
Fools get crumbs—and toil and dream.
---------------------
Blessed Are the Meek
Blessed are the meek on Earth—
Vampires flee before rebirth.
Fools believe what liars say:
Fear them first, then lead astray.
Promise miracles above,
Fields of plenty, peace and love;
Break the loaf—but keep the best,
Leave the crumbs to all the rest.
Empty bowl and endless grind—
That's the wage they leave behind.
---------------------
Buying and Selling
Buying. Selling.
Greed compelling.
Mind is gone—
Soul as well... gone.
---------------------
Trade
Bought and sold,
Greed takes hold.
Thoughts take flight,
Soul from sight.
---------------------
The Bargain
Buying. Selling.
Greed's compelling.
Mind is lost—
Soul's the cost.
---------------------
The Price of Trade
Buying. Selling.
Greed's compelling.
Thoughts depart—
Then the soul, and heart.
---------------------
Thick-Skinned Lilliputians
Thick-heeled Lilliputians, blind,
Thick of skin and mean of mind,
Glad to serve the Beasts they find.
Nursing lies, they hunt for "Bliss"
In an Hell they gladly kiss;
Cheat, betray, deceive once more,
Hoard their money, crave for more—
That's their creed from core to core.
Nothing else can reach their sight:
Eat and sleep from morn till night—
Feeding first on filth outright.
---------------------
Lilliput Breed
Heavy-heeled, thick-skinned they crawl,
Serving Monsters, one and all.
Truth they trade for every lie,
"Happiness" in Hell they buy.
They betray and they deceive,
Trust the frauds they should not believe;
Pile up money, bow to greed—
That's the bastard's only creed.
Nothing higher fills their head:
Eat, sleep, swallow what they're fed.
---------------------
Lilliputians
Heavy-heeled Lilliput crew,
Thick-skinned through and through.
Serving Beasts with eager pride,
Keeping close to Falsehood's side.
Seeking "Happiness" in Hell,
Selling truth they knew too well;
Cheating, lying, gathering gold—
That's the story always told.
Nothing else they care about:
Eat. Sleep. Never think or doubt.
Feast on filth—and then bow out.
---------------------
Boys on a Tank
Boys upon a little tank.
Fingers gone—they paid the bank.
Then a bullet split the head...
Tin was all that filled instead.
Tin forged out of lies alone.
Loudmouths drive the fools headlong
To the slaughter, blind and numb;
Saving only skin to come.
Sense abandoned, cast away—
Darkness claimed their minds that day.
Thus the rashist order thrives...
While the "Leader" smiles and lies.
---------------------
Tin Heads
Little boys ride little tanks;
Little fingers lost in ranks.
Then a shell broke through the skull—
Nothing there but tin to dull.
Tin from lies was cast and poured;
Frauds send fools to war by word.
Common sense is left behind;
Night descends upon the mind.
Into darkness, step by step,
Rashist power has led the inept.
Yet the "Leader," soft and mild...
Keeps pretending he's beguiled.
---------------------
Masha, Pasha, Mother Russia
Masha, Pasha, Mother Russia—
Minds have turned to rotten mush-a.
Souls retreat in fear today:
Rashism hunts without delay.
---------------------
Masha, Pasha...
Masha, Pasha—same old show;
Rotten porridge fills the skull.
Souls sink trembling to their heels:
Rashism strikes with iron zeal.
---------------------
Our Russia
Masha, Pasha, our dear Russia—
Brains reduced to rancid slush.
Souls drop downward, gripped by fright;
Rashism's tightening its bite.
---------------------
Masha, Pasha, Mother Russia
Masha, Pasha, Mother Russia—
Brains dissolved to rancid mush.
Souls retreat to trembling heels:
Rashism closes, never yields.
---------------------
Too Much to Want
Wanting much with little might,
Fools stay strained from morn till night.
Beasts rejoice—they feed on gavvakh,
While the world keeps marching backward.
---------------------
The Business of Ruin
Much they crave, yet weak they stand,
Driven hard by vain command.
Beasts feast gladly on gavvakh,
While all rush toward certain wreck.
---------------------
Feeding the Beasts
Dreams are many, strength is small—
Fools stay tense, prepared to fall.
Beasts delight in gavvakh's taste;
On they drive... to utter waste.
---------------------
Running on Empty
Much they want, yet strength is slight;
Fools live straining day and night.
Beasts rejoice—they feast on gavvakh,
While the march goes straight to ruin.
---------------------
Spent
Much they crave, too weak to fight;
Fools stay wound up, taut and tight.
Beasts devour gavvakh with glee—
Marching on to catastrophe.
---------------------
The Many-Layered Bottom
We've reached the end—what freedom stayed
Has now been beaten, stripped away.
A world of fools from wall to wall;
Deformed in spirit, one and all.
Those who resist the System's reign
Stand mostly lonely, bear the strain.
The media howl; their voices drown
Each truthful whisper beaten down.
Despair tears every cry apart;
A single hair still bears the heart.
That fragile thread is tightly wound
Inside the fool's unsteady hand.
There global fascism holds its throne,
Built high on megatons of lies.
Its only road leads ever down—
No sunrise waits beyond the skies.
Again the fools break through the floor;
Below—another fake, one more:
A cardboard bottom, thin and frail...
They'll smash through that without a fail.
Dante was wrong: not circles—layers.
Each deeper drop breeds blacker terrors.
Hell is here; the ground won't stay.
Run or stand—it slips away.
The Overton Window? No—
A sinkhole yawning far below.
It bursts the cardboard, layer by layer...
The world is lost in endless Night.
---
Variant of the last two stanzas:
Dante erred: not rings—but floors,
Each one darker than before.
Hell is here. The footing's gone.
Run or stay—the fall goes on.
Not a Window—just a Hole,
Dragging downward every soul.
Through the cardboard, one last dive...
Darkness swallows all alive.
---------------------
The Buzzing Fly
Buzzing Fly has fed once more,
Stuffed herself from floor to floor.
Cockroach lives. Mosquito's gone,
Lost where lying mists roll on.
None remain to take the field
Against the world's corrupted yield.
---------------------
The Well-Fed Fly
Greedy Fly has dined her fill,
Buzzing, bloated, never still.
Cockroach thrives; the Gnat is dead,
Lost where webs of falsehood spread.
No one stands against the tide
Of the world's corrupted pride.
---------------------
Buzzing Fly
Buzzing Fly has filled her gut;
Round and round the feast is shut.
Cockroach stays. The Mosquito
Died where lying marshes grew.
None are left to take a stand
Against the ugliness of man.
---------------------
The Buzzing Fly
Buzzing Fly has had her feast;
Bloated like a pampered beast.
Cockroach lives; the Mosquito
Perished in Falsehood's fatal bog.
None remain to fight the blight,
To bring this twisted world to light.
---------------------
The Unprotected: The Sensitive and the Honest
(or: The Almost Completed World Digital Camp)
Protected now? A favored class—
How strange the ages come to pass.
Yet if the truthful, keen of soul
Should disappear—none mourns the toll.
Their ranks grow thinner every year;
This genocide has long been here.
Around us shuffle living dead,
By foolish citizens now led.
A hollow shell, devoid of flame,
Writes Earth's last chapter all the same.
The ones with Spirit, Mind, and Sight
Fade out alone into the night.
The truly human grow so few,
Though hidden from the public view.
The Beasts inject, through propaganda's sting,
Both Fear and Lies in everything.
Sink through a world that's cheap and blind,
Believing life is what you find.
The chance for rebirth fades away—
Let false "tolerance" rule the day.
Then through the gates you'll gladly file
Into the Camp of the Digital.
A crimson cross on banners white;
The watchdog guards approved "free speech" right.
A global bot keeps watch on all.
The quiet fool obeys the call,
Takes every shot, salutes each fraud,
And hymns the Rotten World abroad.
They only wait till all is done.
The Beasts have plans for everyone.
Threefold the Lies will flood the land;
The rot will march at their command.
"Protection" bought by bowed consent,
By selling Soul for safety lent.
Seek only Light—the rest is vain.
Time is short. Don't wait again.
"Protected" means already chained.
This madhouse never will remain.
Hell's walls will burn because so many
Joined the Lie instead of any
Truth—through silence, compromise,
Greed, participation, lies.
Promised "happiness," they sank
The world into its deepest blank.
Morning comes. Look through the glass.
Brighter grows the sun at last.
Light will burn this sham away,
Leaving not a shred to stay.
Find that Light within your soul.
Then you'll stand beyond control:
Not a cog in Darkness' scheme,
But a sudden Living Beam.
There is no worthier task to keep
For those whose hearts refuse to sleep.
Among Falsehood's endless din,
Guard the Light that burns within.
---------------------
Check It
You'll stop believing if you check.
— Then who checks lies?
— Old Nobody next.
---------------------
Believe Me Not
You won't believe once truth is known.
— Who checks the lies?
— No one's ever done.
---------------------
Old Nobody
Check the facts—you'll lose belief.
— Who checks all lies?
— Old Nobody, chief.
---------------------
Fact Check
Test a lie—you'll lose belief.
— Who tests lies?
— Old Nobody, chief.
---------------------
Who Checks?
Verify—and faith will go.
— Who checks lies?
— Nobody you know.
---------------------
Believe? Verify instead.
— Who verifies the lies?
— Old Nobody, he replied.
---------------------
Now and Hereafter
The brute now teaches,
The fool now heals,
The villain hones
His lies like steel.
He longs to break
Both Mind and Soul,
To yoke us all,
To seize control.
To turn mankind
To cattle bred,
Till Meaning dies
And Truth lies dead.
Send all of them
Straight down to Hell—
The borders fell,
The warning bell
No longer rings.
This is no dream:
Hell walks the earth,
Not just a theme.
A newer one
Will soon arise—
Not underground,
But 'neath our skies.
Behind a fence,
A digital wall,
Reality
Dissolves for all.
The people bowed,
The ranks aligned,
A war machine
Consumes the mind.
Its shells are Lies,
Its poison Fear.
The fools obey
With eager cheer.
They crush what's left
Of human grace—
Relentless, ruthless,
Cold of face.
---
Variant of the final stanza:
Lies are bullets.
Fear's the gas.
Fools salute
Each dark command.
Hunting down
Humanity's last spark—
Unbending, savage,
Sure and stark.
---------------------
The Same Commercial Breaks on Eurosport, Month After Month
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat once more.
The selfsame adverts flood the screen.
No respite from the mindless roar—
More rubbish where thought should have been.
It pours from every glowing frame,
Slowly murdering the mind.
Fresh buckets of the very same
Are all we're ever meant to find.
Noise has taken Meaning's place;
Empty echoes rule the day.
Life hangs trembling over waste...
Curtain falls. Fade to gray.
---------------------
Commercial Break
Hammered by repetition,
Month by month the same.
Endless advertisements—
Different brands, one game.
Filth flows from the screens,
Drowning every thought.
Fresh loads of distraction—
Nothing that is sought.
Noise replaces Meaning;
Silence has no room.
Life hangs over sewage...
Cue the final doom.
---------------------
Months of the Same Commercials
Repeat us into numbness—
Month on month the same.
Commercials without ending;
Different ads, one game.
Garbage floods the screenwaves,
Smothering the mind.
Fresh torrents of the trivial—
Nothing new to find.
Noise has drowned out Meaning;
That's the common rule.
Life hangs over filth itself...
Lights out. Curtain. Fool.
---------------------
Meta-Level
Once Awareness stands upright,
Where can fascist filth still bite?
Mind that climbs beyond the climb
Leaves the world's foul muck behind.
---------------------
Awareness
Consciousness, once fully won—
Where can filth still press upon?
Mind that reaches higher ground
Leaves the global muck unwound.
---------------------
Beyond the Mire
True awareness breaks the chain.
Where can fascist filth remain?
Mind upon the meta-plane
Stands beyond the world's foul stain.
---------------------
Meta-Consciousness
Awareness breaks oppression's claim.
Where now strikes fascist filth and shame?
Mind upon the meta-plane
Stands beyond the global stain.
---------------------
Above the Mire
Awareness lifts the mind so high—
Where can fascist filth apply?
Meta-thought has crossed the line,
Far beyond the global slime.
---------------------
In Memory of Pavel Kogan
"I'm tired of endless words and endless strife,
Of loving weary eyes that long have cried...
Far off upon the blue freebooter sea,
The brigantine still spreads her sails to ride..."
The brigantine has heeled once more—
The end of childish dreams in store.
The Soul was lost in lands unknown?
"A trifle..." whispers Heaven's throne.
No—horned gods are masters still
Of leading hearts through poisoned will;
Through filth, oblivion, painted skies,
Till ugliness is crowned as wise.
Enough of all this whining noise!
Let's seek again the sea's wild voice.
We'll leave behind cheap comfort's chain
And trust the wind, despite the pain.
Yet even plague and quarantine,
The grand PLANdemic's cold machine,
Could not prevent our fevered dreams
From steering Hell by unseen streams.
They led to war. They lead us still.
Now rises, brick by brick, the will
To build a worldwide Digital Camp,
Where every spirit fades and dampens.
The sails are torn. The hull grows thin.
The ropes decay. The rot sets in.
Along the shore the cannons wait,
Their shells are Lies, their smoke is Hate.
Fear is the powder. Lies ignite.
The barrage lasts through day and night.
Yet who condemns the witless mass?
They've long forgotten all that's lost.
Life itself seems "shvah"—undone.
The oldest story, never won.
Myths and fantasies conceal
The rot beneath what feels so real.
One choice remains for every soul:
To dream while sinking into the hole—
Or strip corruption of disguise
And meet the Truth with open eyes.
The brigantine comes home at last
And fires one final broadside blast.
Against the Empire built on Lies—
In vain... the crowd still shuts its eyes.
The captain's hair becomes a prize,
His scalp the trophy of the lies.
So fares the one who dares to steer
Against the current born of fear.
Privateers of Word and Thought,
The greatest wars by minds are fought.
Stand more boldly! Hold your ground!
Only thus your Self is found.
For kingdoms fall and banners fade;
Steel grows dull and debts are paid.
But one free thought sincerely spoken
Leaves a chain forever broken.
"I'm tired of endless words and endless strife,
Of loving weary eyes that long have cried...
Far off upon the blue freebooter sea,
The brigantine still spreads her sails to ride..."
---------------------
The Brigantine
The brigantine sails through the storm,
The waves are black, the winds are warm.
Her sails are torn, her hull grows thin,
The ropes decay, the rot sets in.
Along the shore the cannons wait,
Their shells are Lies, their smoke is Hate.
Fear is the powder, Lies ignite,
The barrage thunders through the night.
Yet who condemns the witless mass?
They've long forgotten all that’s past.
They've lost the dreams they once possessed,
The buried hopes within the chest.
Life itself seems shvah — undone,
The oldest tale remains unwon.
Myths and fantasies conceal
The hidden rot beneath the real.
One choice remains for every soul:
To dream while sinking toward the hole,
Or strip corruption of disguise
And meet the Truth with open eyes.
The brigantine comes home at last,
And fires one final broadside blast
Against the Empire built on Lies —
In vain... the crowd still shuts its eyes.
The captain’s hair becomes a prize,
His scalp — the trophy of the lies.
So fares the one who dares to steer
Against the current born of fear.
Privateers of Word and Thought,
The greatest wars by minds are fought.
Stand more boldly! Hold your ground!
Only thus your Self is found.
For kingdoms fall and banners fade;
The steel grows dull, the debts are paid.
But one free thought sincerely spoken
Leaves every chain forever broken.
"I’m tired of endless words and strife,
Of weary eyes that long for life,
Of loving eyes that long have cried..."
Far off upon the blue freebooter sea,
The brigantine still spreads her sails free.
She rides beyond the fading night,
Still chasing Truth, still seeking Light.
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