Игорь Выхованец, стихи 24501-25000

Игорь Выхованец, стихи: 24501-25000



Food for Fiends

Humans on platters,
Meat, jelly, tatters.
Hell feasts with glee
On glib blasphemy.



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Feeding the Devils

People? A dish.
Meat, jellied flesh.
Hell's filthy feed:
Babble and greed.



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The Devils' Feast

Humans? Entr;e.
Meat on display.
Hell's choicest food:
Lies chewed and chewed.



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Devils' Diet

Humans? A plate.
Meat. Jellied fate.
Hell's daily feed:
Word-slime and greed.



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The Cart of Degenerates

Hog—the yoke,
Fool—the spoke.
Scum—and snaps
Truth's last straps.
One-way ride:
Death's inside.



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The Wagon of Degenerates

Swine—the bow,
Fool—the pin.
Filth—and gone
Truth within.
Off they roll,
Death their goal.



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The Cart of Fools

Pig—the brace,
Fool—the wheel.
Rot breaks all
Ties to real.
Final track:
No way back.



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The Cart of Degenerates

Swine—the frame.
Fool—the wheel.
Scum cuts loose
Truth that's real.
One-way course:
Death by force.



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The Cart of Degenerates

Swine—the shaft.
Fool—the wheel.
Scum severs
Truth made real.
One last track,
No coming back.



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



Walking Guppies

A guppy—
Goes mushy,
When memory dies.
Nonsense will rise,
The Spirit's faint trace,
Crushed by the Beast's press.



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



Walking Guppies

Little guppy,
Flattened, sloppy,
Memory gone—
Madness lives on.
Spirit's light fades;
Beasts rule the waves.



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



Walking Guppies

Tiny guppy,
Turns to pulp,
Memory lost,
Reason is crushed.
Spirit's a ghost,
Beasts rule the host.



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



Walking Guppies

Guppy fish—
Turned to mush.
Memory's dead,
Nonsense is fed.
Spirit's but thread,
Beasts rule instead.



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



Walking Guppies

Guppy—
All pulpy,
Memory gone.
Madness lives on.
Spirit's a spark,
Beasts rule the dark.



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



A Line of Bastards

Lenin—lecher.
Stalin—master.
Khrushchev—bluster.
Leonid—stench.
Misha—swine.
Boris—bane.
Blood... yet lingers.



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



A Parade of Bastards

Lenin—prick.
Stalin—czar.
Khrushchev—fraud.
Leonid—rot.
Misha—hog.
Boris—grief.
Putler chills
Blood beneath.



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



A Chain of Bastards

Lenin—sham.
Stalin—lord.
Khrushchev—void.
Leonid—stench.
Misha—boar.
Boris—woe.
Putler makes
Cold blood flow.



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



The Bastards' Line

Lenin—liar.
Stalin—sire.
Khrushchev—dust.
Leonid—rust.
Misha—hog.
Boris—blight.
Blood outright.



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



A Line of Bastards

Lenin—leech.
Stalin—tsar.
Khrushchev—fraud.
Leonid—rot.
Misha—swine.
Boris—woe.
Putler chills
Blood... won't go.



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



A Line of Bastards

Lenin—leech.
Stalin—tsar.
Khrushchev—fraud.
Leonid—rot.
Misha—swine.
Boris—woe.
Putler chills
Blood—still won't go.



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




Skin rules mind—
The world's gone blind.



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When flesh kills thought,
The world's undone.



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




Flesh over brain—
The world's insane.



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




Hide fools the mind;
Chaos follows blind.



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





Flesh rules mind—
The world's gone blind.



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




Flesh kills mind—
The world's gone blind.



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




Bliss is part of growing blind.
Generations chase "Now-Bliss",
Finding only filth and slime—
Beasts drag fools to Hell's abyss.



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




Bliss belongs to clouded minds.
Ages seek the thrill of "now";
Finding only rot they find—
Beasts to Hell make fools all bow.



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




Bliss is born of dulled-out thought.
Every age seeks instant cheer;
Only foulness can be caught—
Beasts drive fools to Hell from here.



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




Bliss is folly's dearest prize.
Generations hunt delight;
Only vileness meets their eyes—
Beasts lead fools into the night.



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




Bliss is born of numbed-out minds.
Generations chase "Now-Bliss";
Only filth is what they find—
Beasts lead fools to Hell's abyss.







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Всемирный спорт

Зачёт по дуракам:
Вперёд, Гнилой Бедлам!
А умному дисквал —
Он не туда попал.




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



Стрельба по щелям и тарелочкам

Всемирный спорт.
Дурак упёрт:
Он видит цель —
То в ЩАСтье щель.
В десятку, гадкий,
Не попадёт,
Ведь фаворитом идиот.



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



Дурак повинен больше ТВАРЕЙ,
За то что в Адской Лживой Мари,
Злу веря, Мерзость принимает,
А принимая, потакает,
Участвует или лажает,
Тем жизнь на Гее добивает.




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



Архив — счастл`ив,
Хоть жизДнь — нарыв,
Путь — на разрыв:
Пусть сдохнет комп,
Инф`у залив,
Продолжить чтоб
Напрасный труд,
Что не сотрут,
Спасусь. Тружусь.
Уйдя, очнусь... 
Очнусь от Ада.
Найду ли радость?..

Трудиться надо...




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



Расплескалась мысль по форме —
Сути главной не найти.
В чём тут дело? Дело в Прорве —
Хочешь в ногу с ней идти.




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



Деградации зашкал —
Мир в безумии пропал.
Снова лжи девятый вал,
Но ответ Разумных вял.
Коль Поэт, тогда не пал,
Если обличаешь Ложь.
Противленье Словом множь —
Хоть частицу уничтожь
Лжи Тотальной Боевой
Для ущербных головой.




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



Жаба в кресле у окна —
Мерзость!: вот чинуша ДНА.
ГражданинА — с ним война.
Силы — той войны цена:
Отнимает много сил
Мерзость. Терпит всё дебил.




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



Без бумажки ты букашка,
А с бумажкой лишь свинья
В стойле. В рабстве жизДнь — промашка:
"Существуешь" строя ДЛЯ.




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



Гомофоб днесь как микроб —
Хуже педика диагноз:
Мир, на коий ставить проб
Больше некуда. Прогноз
Разложения болезни
Непригляден, потому
Отстранись от Тьмы, болезный,
Служа Духу и Уму.




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



Разобраться в жизДни чтоб —
Почему ты как микроб,
Чью колонию стремят
К атисептику, а гад,
Этим правящий, не виден —
Внутрь уйди. Там очевиден
На вопрос простой ответ.
Всё иное — Ложь иль Бред.



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



Философия Говна

Букашка, какашка —
Субъект и мирок.
В дрянь веришь — промашка:
Зароют в кал в срок.

Червячная доля
Отнюдь не легка —
Нет крыльев, а Воля
Вверху — далека.

Огромные черви
Тебя загнобят,
Испортивши нервы.
Итог один — гад.

В Дерьме невозможно
Иначе ползти.
В полёте тревожно:
Упал — не спасти.

Летай, пока можешь,
Презревши Дрянцо, —
Надежды умножишь
В крылатых, спасая Лицо.




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



Сковородка

Мерзкий строй.
Плачь иль вой,
Иль залейся 
Водкой, смейся —
Ничего
Не изменишь
В Адской Пене:
Торжество
Ушлых тварей
В Лживой Мари.
Ложью жарят,
Страхом парят:
Мир — сковродка.
Коль урод ты,
Верь, склоняйся —
Убивайся,
Душу, ум
Через глум,
Не пеняя,
Продавая
Тварям ушлым.
Душу слушай:
Лишь она
В пекле Дна
Днесь ценна,
Коль война
С Духом сплошь —
Люд как вошь
На углях:
Ложь, Страх, прах.
Свет Души:
Поспеши
Путь к Истоку,
Скрытый оку,
Осветить —
В Духе быть,
Ад покинув,
В Лжи не сгинув.


Вариант. В Дичи Дна



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



В Дебилоидном Дерьмище
Тянешь срок. Повсюду ДНИЩЕ.
Срок пожизненный, с рожденья.
Катаклизм для Разложенья
Как лекарство: ТВАРЕЙ царство
Уничтожит он нещадно —
Геноцид здесь беспощадный.
ЖизДня — это геноцид;
Катаклизм как йод на Стыд.




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



Инфа, налоги и хабар

Посвящается Анатолию Дроздову,
"индикатору малого бизнеса"


Упорный труд.
Чинуши жмут —
Хабара ждут.
Вновь "власти" врут:
Не жизнь — капут.
Не сдался ты,
Хотя менты —
В крутой накат.
Свободе рад,
Вновь строишь ты,
Но жрут скоты —
Налогов тьма,
Сойти с ума! —
Усилий плод
Который год:
Зарплату бы
СВОИМ — жлобы
Ведь всё просрут.
Напрасный труд...
Ну что ж, держись —
В Аду стремись
Инфы поток
Доставить в срок.
Какой в ней прок,
Когда злой рок
С рожденья всех
Гнобит?.. Успех
Всё ж твой большой —
Во Тьме герой!



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



Исчезновение фашизма

Гнусность, трусость и МАРАЗМ:
Спотыкается сарказм
Об ухабы псевдожизни —
По Уму и Духу тризне.

Коль исследуешь мирок,
Не пойдёт пыл нервам впрок:
Ложь тотальная и страх,
Идиот, дебил, мудак

В большинстве на торжестве
ТВАРЕЙ, что сгнобили всех.
Если дело в ЕСТЕСТВЕ,
То ТВАРЬЯ большой успех

Замечается повсюду —
Нормою давно иуды,
Только ныне как работа
Предавать, гнобить уродов.

Гнусность, трусость и МАРАЗМ:
Спотыкается сарказм
Об ухабы псевдожизни —
По Уму и Духу тризне.

Если в Гнусности молчишь,
То с уродами домчишь
В новый Лагерь Мировой.
Подстегнёт Дурь СМРАДов вой —

Показали то в говнид:
Злу покорность — просто стыд.
На войну идёт дебил —
Он оплот фашистских сил,

И не только на войне,
Ведь дебил всегда в цене:
Он задавит биомассой,
Впечатлён фашизма кассой.

Дурням платят хоть немного,
Но в мирке гнилом, убогом
Лишь бабло имеет вес,
Не считая ТВАРЕЙ Пресс.

Гнусность, трусость и МАРАЗМ:
Спотыкается сарказм
Об ухабы псевдожизни —
По Уму и Духу тризне.

Перспективы — никакие,
Ведь пугливые-тупые
Исполняют что угодно,
Всех травя, гнобя нещадно.

Что ж, дождёмся окончания —
В Лжи и Страхе одичания.
Весь мирок — большая тризна
Под пятою нью-фашизма.

Гнусность, трусость и МАРАЗМ:
Спотыкается сарказм
Об ухабы псевдожизни.
Страх как соль, а чернь как слизни.
Солнце скоро ярче брызнет —
С чернью и фашизм исчезнет.




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



Кремлядской гнидой впечатлён
Я, Злу покорный мудозвон. 
Пусть в уши срут, ведут на труд,
На бойни, если есть фаст-фуд,
Мне похуй всё. Сожру гнильё,
Поверив в Ложь — вот бытиё!



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



Кремлядской гнидой впечатлён
Я, Злу покорный мудозвон. 
Пусть в уши срут, ведут на труд,
На бойни, если есть фаст-фуд,
Мне похуй всё.
Сожру гнильё,
Поверив в Ложь;
Меня не трожь! —
Вот бытиё!
Но... не моё...



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



Урожай Зла

В каске пляски.
Свистопляски
Раньше — в маске.
По указке
Иль подсказке
СМРАДов в смазке
Страхов, Лжи
Злу служи,
****ежи
Принимая,
Подпевая-
Подвывая,
Огребая-
Горб сгибая,
Выжидая,
Не пеняя,
Покупая-
Продавая,
Предавая,
Убивая,
К Злу склоняя.
Урожая
Зла немало —
Всё пропало:
В роли свинтуса
Ниже плинтуса
У-у-пало.



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



Мировая Грядка

Урожай уродов,
Даже сплошь невзгоды —
Беды, непогоды —
Крупен. Не ПРИРОДА!..




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



Быстрое таянье льдов и Разума

В дебилоидном мирке,
Где дурак на дураке,
Погоняя, Разум тает.
"Всё окей" — дурак считает.



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



Archive survives—
Though life just deprives.
The road tears apart,
Yet still plays its part.
Let computers all die,
Let data flood by—
I'll carry it through,
Though all starts anew.
They'll never erase
Each word, every trace.
I labour. Endure.
When gone, I'll be sure
To wake from Hell's blight...
Will joy greet my sight?

Still—work is what's right.



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




Archives remain;
Life festers in pain.
The pathway may split,
I never will quit.
Let hard drives all fail,
Let bytes drift and pale—
I'll write it once more,
As countless before.
They'll never erase
My labour's last trace.
I toil till I'm through;
Beyond, I'll break through.
I'll wake from Hell's snare...
Will gladness be there?

Yet work—I must bear.



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




Without your papers—you are dust;
With papers—just a penned-up swine.
A slave's existence breaks your trust:
You "live" to serve the System's shrine.



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




No papers? You're a bug—ignored.
With papers? Just a pig in line.
A slave's whole life earns no reward:
You "exist" for the grand design.



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




Without your pass—you count for none;
With one—you are a stall-kept swine.
A slave's life ends before it's done:
You "live" to serve the System's grind.



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



The Ice and Reason Melt Away

In a world of fools galore,
Where each fool breeds one fool more,
Reason melts with every day—
"All is fine!" the fools all say.



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



The Ice and Reason Fade

In an idiot's domain,
Fools beget more fools again.
Reason melts and slips away—
"Everything is fine," they say.



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



The Ice and Reason Thaw

In a world that's dumb as stone,
Every fool crowns one his own.
Reason melts from day to day—
"Nothing's wrong!" the fools all say.



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



In an Idiot's Filthy Mire

In an idiot's foul morass,
Life's a sentence none can pass.
Born in prison, doomed to stay—
Rot consumes the soul each day.
Yet catastrophe may start
Healing what has fallen apart.
Beastly kingdoms cannot hide:
They will perish in the tide.
Life itself's a genocide;
Doom burns shame like iodine.



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



The Pit of Fools

In the filth where idiots reign,
Life means serving a life-long chain.
From your birth you're locked inside,
Rot and ruin are your guide.
Cataclysm clears the ground,
Sweeping vermin all around.
Mercy never walks this land—
Genocide is close at hand.
Life's a slow genocide indeed;
Doom is iodine for greed.



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



The Idiot Mire

In the idiot swamp of slime,
You're condemned for endless time.
From first breath, a prisoner's role—
Rot keeps feeding on the soul.
Cataclysms cleanse the land,
Striking with a ruthless hand.
Beastly empires fade and fall;
None escape the final call.
Life itself's genocide's reign;
Cataclysm cauterizes shame.



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



Global Games

Fools top every score—
Go, Rotten Bedlam, roar!
The wise are disqualified:
Wrong world, they're told—and denied.



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



World Championship

Fools win every race—
Rotten Bedlam takes first place.
The clever hear the referee:
"Disqualified—you shouldn't be."



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



The World Game

Fools receive the prize;
Rotten Bedlam claims the skies.
The wise are shown the exit door—
They don't belong here anymore.



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




Today's bigot spreads disease,
Like a plague no cure can ease.
This world's so rotten, scar on scar—
No clean places left there are.
Rot will only spread its blight;
Darkness feeds on moral night.
Turn away from poisoned gloom;
Serve the Spirit, Mind—and bloom.



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




Hatred breeds like living mold;
Worse than sicknesses of old.
This world's worn beyond repair,
Rot has settled everywhere.
Decay writes tomorrow's page;
Darkness crowns a dying age.
Leave the shadows while you may;
Choose the Mind's and Spirit's way.



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




Bigotry's a crawling germ,
Feeding on a world infirm.
This old world's worn thin at last—
Every limit has been passed.
Rot predicts a darker dawn;
Disease keeps shambling on and on.
Leave the Darkness. Choose instead
Mind and Spirit as your thread.



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




Degradation tops the scale;
Madness makes the whole world fail.
Lies return—a tidal wave;
Reason's answer? Weak and grave.
Poets never truly fall
While exposing Falsehood's thrall.
Fight with every written word;
Let resistance still be heard.
Shatter even one small lie
Fed to minds gone blind and dry.



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




Degradation knows no bound;
Madness rules the world around.
Once again the ninth wave rolls;
Reason scarcely stirs the souls.
Poets stand while others yield,
Calling Falsehood to the field.
Let your words resist the night;
Strike with truth in every fight.
Break one fragment of the lie
Sold to those who never try.



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




Degradation floods the land;
Madness rules with iron hand.
Lies surge high—a ninth-wave sea;
Reason answers timidly.
A true poet does not fall
While exposing lies to all.
Strengthen resistance through your word;
Let Truth's battle still be heard.
Kill one shard of giant Lies
Fed to blinded hearts and eyes.



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The fool bears greater guilt than beasts,
For, in Hell's deceitful mists,
Believing Evil's poisoned call,
He welcomes every shameful fall.
Accepting Wrong, he helps it thrive;
By deed or silence keeps alive
The force that strikes our world each day—
And helps Earth's living fade away.



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




The fool is guiltier than the fiend,
In Hell's false marsh by lies convened.
He trusts in Evil, calls it right,
Embraces darkness, shuns the light.
He serves it, stumbles, plays its game,
And fans destruction's growing flame,
Until all life is left to pay
For every lie he cleared the way.



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




The fool bears heavier blame than beasts;
Through Hell's deceit his reason flees.
He trusts in Evil's smiling guise,
Accepts the horror, feeds the lies.
By act or silence, side by side,
He helps corruption spread its tide,
And thus, with every choice astray,
He drives Earth's living to decay.



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




A Toad upon a padded throne—
The swamp's foul bureaucrat is shown.
The citizen must wage the fight;
Strength's the cost from morn till night.
Vileness drains you, bit by bit;
Only fools submit to it.



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




A bloated toad sits by the pane—
The Bottom's clerk, corrupt and vain.
A citizen must stand and strive;
Such wars consume the strongest drive.
Filth devours your will and grit;
Only fools endure and quit.



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




A toad sits proudly in its chair—
The Depths' official, foul and bare.
The citizen must wage that war;
It drains his strength forevermore.
Vileness feeds on human will;
Only fools endure it still.



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



Information, Taxes, and Bribes

Dedicated to Anatoly Drozdov,
"the barometer of small business"


Relentless toil.
The officials spoil;
They squeeze and scheme,
Demand their cream.
The rulers lie—
"Just live and die."

Yet you stood fast,
Though raids were cast,
Though pressure grew
And hunted you.
You built again,
Through loss and pain.

The taxmen feed,
Insatiable greed!
Enough to drive
A soul deprived
Completely mad—
The harvest had

Been earned to pay
Your own one day;
Instead the swine
Consume what's thine,
Waste every gain—
Your work in vain.

Still, hold your ground!
Though Hell surrounds,
Send streams of truth,
Fresh, clear, uncouth,
On time, each day,
Whatever they say.

What good is light
In endless night,
When fate has pressed
Mankind oppressed
Since birth beneath
Its poisoned breath?

Yet one thing's clear,
Through every year:
Your victory's won—
A hero in the sun?
No—greater far:
A hero in the dark.



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



The Vanishing of Fascism

Vileness, cowardice, and madness—
Sarcasm stumbles through the sadness,
Over bumps of fake existence,
At the funeral of Mind and Spirit.

If you study this little sphere,
Your nerves will suffer year by year:
Total lies and endless fear,
Fools and idiots everywhere.

At the feast where creatures reign,
Those who crushed all human grain.
If it's nature, after all,
Then the beast may win it all.

Everywhere the signs appear—
Betrayal has become sincere.
What was once a shameful deed
Now is "work" for those who feed.

Vileness, cowardice, and madness—
Sarcasm stumbles through the sadness,
Over bumps of fake existence,
At the funeral of Mind and Spirit.

If you keep silent in disgrace,
You will join that crawling race,
Rushing to the Global Camp,
Driven by the media's stamp.

CowID showed the world the shame:
How submission serves the game.
Fools march forward into war—
Strong foundations of fascist law.

Not just soldiers on the field—
Fools are always highly prized.
Masses crush what minds can build,
Fascism's profit makes them wise.

Fools are paid a little sum,
In a rotten world where all become
Blind to truth and blind to press—
Money rules the emptiness.

Vileness, cowardice, and madness—
Sarcasm stumbles through the sadness,
Over bumps of fake existence,
At the funeral of Mind and Spirit.

No horizons can be seen,
When the timid and the mean
Do whatever they are told,
Poisoning the young and old.

So we wait until the end—
For the lies and fears to bend.
All this world becomes a feast
For the shadow of the neo-fascist beast.

Vileness, cowardice, and madness—
Sarcasm stumbles through the sadness,
Over bumps of fake existence.
Fear is salt; the mob is slime.

Soon the Sun will shine much brighter—
Burning through the darkest night.
With the darkness and the tyrant,
Fascism will lose the fight.



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




Impressed by Kremlin's rotten breed,
I bow to Evil, numb in need.
Let them pour their filth inside,
Send me to work, send me to die.
To battlefields, if food is there—
I do not care, I do not care.
I'll swallow every piece of rot,
Believing lies—that's all I've got.



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




I worship Kremlin's rotten lice,
A fool enslaved by Evil's vice.
Let them spit their lies at me,
Chain my hands and make me flee.
Send me where the slaughter's done,
If there's cheap food, I'll gladly run.
I'll eat their garbage, praise the lie—
Such is my life before I die.



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




Kremlin's decay has won my soul,
I serve the Evil, blind and dull.
Let lies be poured into my ears,
Let fear command my days and years.
Send me to labour, send to war—
If food is near, I ask no more.
I'll feast on rot, accept the lie;
This is my "life" before I die.



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




Enchanted by the Kremlin's rot,
I bow to Evil, mindless sot.
Let them pour their filth inside,
Lead me where the workers hide.
To slaughter fields, if food is near—
I have no shame, I have no fear.

I care for nothing, swallow waste,
Believe the lies they make me taste.
"Leave me alone! Don't touch my way!"
This is my life... so they would say.

But no—this life is not my own;
It is a cage, a borrowed throne.



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




Kremlin rot has caught my mind,
To Evil's chains I am confined.
Fill my ears with filthy lies,
Send me where the slaughter lies.
If there's food, I'll march along,
Blind and deaf, where I belong.

I will eat the garbage heap,
Trust the lies they make me keep.
"Don't you touch me! Let me be!"
That's their life they call "free".

But this is not the life for me—
Not my soul, nor destiny.



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



The World's Garden Bed

A harvest of freaks,
Of troubles and streaks—
Of storms, endless pain,
A plentiful gain.

But this is not Nature's seed—
It's a crop of human greed.



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



The Global Field

A harvest of the strange,
Of troubles without range.
Misfortunes, storms, and blight—
Grow massive in our sight.

Not Nature's hand at all—
But mankind's rotten fall.



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



The World's Crop

A harvest of the vile,
That grows for mile on mile.
Disasters, storms, and pain—
A giant, poisoned grain.

Not Nature's art, not fate—
But what we cultivate.



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



To Understand This Life

To understand this life of ours—
Why are you like germs in jars,
Whose little colonies are swept
By antiseptics, while they wept?

The one who rules this hidden fight
Remains unseen, concealed from sight.
Turn inward, seek the depths within—
There lies the answer, clear and clean.

All else is nothing but deceit,
A dream absurd, a false conceit.



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



The Inner Answer

To solve the riddle of your days—
Why are you germs in poisoned haze,
A colony they seek to clear
With antiseptic, cold and severe?

The hidden master stays unseen,
Behind the scenes, behind the screen.
Go inward; there the truth appears—
Beyond all doubts, beyond all fears.

Everything outside is just a lie,
Or madness wearing reason's tie.



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



The Question Within

To know why life has made you small,
Like microbes fighting against all—
A colony doomed by cleansing fire,
Destroyed by some unseen desire.

The hidden ruler cannot be found
In the outer, noisy world around.
Go deep within, and you will see
The simple truth of what you be.

All other answers fade away—
Mere lies and madness in disguise.



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



The Thought Spilled Into Form

The thought has spilled into its shape,
The core has vanished without trace.
What is the cause? The endless flood—
You want to march with it in pace.



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



Lost in the Form

The thought dissolves in endless form,
Its deepest truth is lost and torn.
What causes this? The endless stream—
You chase its flow, you share its dream.



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



Form and Essence

The thought is scattered into form,
The essence lost in endless storm.
The reason? A bottomless tide—
You choose to march along its side.



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



The Frying Pan

A filthy reign.
Cry in pain,
Or howl and scream,
Or drown your shame
In vodka's stream—
Nothing changes,
Nothing ends
In Hell's own foam,
Where darkness blends.

The triumph grows
Of crafty foes
In the mist
Of lies and fears.
They fry with lies,
They steam with terror:
The world’s a pan
Of endless error.

If you're a freak,
If you are weak—
Bow your head,
Accept the chain.
Kill yourself
Through mockery,
Through the pain.
Do not blame,
Do not cry,
Sell your soul
To those who lie.

Yet listen closely
To your Soul:
Only it
Can make you whole.
In the furnace
Of the Abyss,
Only Spirit
Still has bliss.

When the war
Against the Light
Turns mankind
Into a mite,
Like a louse
Upon the coals—
Lies and fear
Consume the souls.

Seek the Light
That burns inside.
Hurry now,
Do not hide.
Find the Source,
Hidden from sight;
Walk in Spirit,
Walk in Light.

Leave the Hell
Where shadows reign.
Break the chains
Of lies and pain.
Save your soul,
Your truth begin—
Do not perish
In the sin.




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



Shooting at Cracks and Plates

A global sport—
The fool's resort.
He sees the aim,
A crack in "Happy's" name.

He shoots and tries,
But never scores the prize;
For the favorite, sad and dim,
Is always just a fool like him.



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



The World's Great Game

A worldwide sport:
The fool takes part.
He spots the goal—
A crack in "Happiness" whole.

He fires again,
But misses ten.
The winner's known before the fight—
The idiot takes the highest height.



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



Shooting at Illusions

The world’s sport now:
The fool takes a bow.
He aims at a hole—
A gap in the "Happy" goal.

He'll never hit
The center bit;
The reason is plain to see—
The fool is the champion, not the free.



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



Blood Runs Cold

Blood runs cold—once more the sheep
Trust in nonsense, souls to reap.



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



The Sheep of Doom

My blood runs cold—again I see
The sheep embrace absurdity.
They follow lies, they lose their souls,
And march where endless darkness rolls.



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



Blood Runs Cold

Blood turns cold: the sheep once more
Trust in nonsense—death of the core.



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



The Harvest of Evil

In the helmet of the dance,
In a mad and twisted trance.
Once they hid behind a mask,
Now they follow every task.

By command or by advice,
Fed by media's poisoned lies,
Fear and falsehood, thick and grim—
Serve the Evil, bow to him.

Take the nonsense, sing along,
Howl together with the throng.
Bend your back and bear the load,
Crawl obedient on the road.

Wait in silence, never blame,
Buy and sell, repeat the same.
Betray, destroy, and kill the light,
Lean to Evil, join its night.

Crops of Evil multiply—
All is lost beneath the sky.
Playing now the lowest fool,
Fallen past the lowest stool.

Down and down you fall away—
Lost beneath the world of clay.



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



Evil's Harvest

Dance in helmets, madness grows,
Masks were worn in former shows.
Now they march where orders lead,
Feeding on the lies they read.

Media pours the poison rain:
Fear and lies become their chain.
Serve the Evil, shout its name,
Sing its songs, embrace the shame.

Bend your spine and wait your turn,
Watch the truth and conscience burn.
Buy and sell, betray and kill—
Climb the ladder downward still.

Evil's harvest fills the field;
Nothing remains, no hope to shield.
Like a parasite crawling low,
Past the bottom—down you go.



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



The Philosophy of Filth

A bug, a speck of waste—
A creature and its sphere.
If you believe in rubbish,
Your end will soon be near.

The worm's appointed journey
Is far from being bright;
No wings are given to crawling things,
The heights are far from sight.

The giant worms around you
Will crush you to the ground,
They'll wear away your nerves and strength,
Till nothing good is found.

In filth there is no other way
Than crawling through the mire.
To fly is risky, dangerous—
One fall can end desire.

So fly while you still can fly,
Reject the dirt below.
Your hopes will grow, your spirit rise,
And wings will help you glow.



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



The Philosophy of Mud

A bug, a piece of trash—
A world and a small soul.
Believe in dirt and decay,
And dirt will be your goal.

The worm's life is a burden,
A narrow, endless track.
No wings, no sky, no freedom—
Just earth upon its back.

Great worms will crawl above you,
They'll trample and oppress;
They'll poison all your nerves and thoughts
With endless ugliness.

In mud you cannot travel
Except by crawling low.
The sky is full of danger—
One fall, and down you go.

Yet fly while you are able,
Rise higher than the grime.
Save the face of your own soul
Beyond the worms of time.







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



Усер`усь, но не согнусь.
В Аде главное — не трусь:
Волк снаружи, внутрь коль — гусь.
И с гнильцою каждый груздь.




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



"Ветер перемен"

Веет "ветер перемен":
Одной Мерзости взамен
Нагоняет он Другую —
И Душа сильней тоскует.

Мерзость назовут "добром"
Иль "прогрессом" — под Козлом.
Рабство сплошь меняет формы,
Ведь во Лжи князьки проворны.

Продолжается века.
Производство дурака
В рабстве главным, ведь заборов
Не построить всюду. Вздором

Оградить, потом стравить,
И придурков вновь гнобить,
Чуть меняя истязанья, —
Суть мирка Фашисткой Срани.

Веет "ветер перемен":
Одной Мерзости взамен
Нагоняет он Другую —
И Душа сильней тоскует.

И зашкалена Тоска:
Посмотреть на дурака,
Чушь, "законы" и препоны,
Нанесённые уроны,

Вмиг уныние придёт.
Безнадёжен идиот —
Гражданин фиктивных стран,
В просторечии — баран.

Показал барановирус,
В Лжи Тотальной, в Страхе ширясь,
Уровень "ума" и духа
И продажности. Проруха

Восприятия огромна:
В осознании Дурдома
Преуспели единицы.
Словно Красной книги птицы

Исчезают — "перемены"
Вновь готовят им замены:
Полу-скот, не идиот,
Вместо выродка грядёт —
В Лагерь чмо всё доведёт.

Лагерь новый цифровой:
Челюсть станет головой,
Мозг усохший лишь придаток —
За терпенье Зла расплата.

Веет "ветер перемен":
Одной Мерзости взамен
Нагоняет он Другую —
И Душа сильней тоскует.

Зло разрушит катаклизм:
Не успеет нью-фашизм
Эти планы воплотить —
Всех в скотину превратить.

Внутрь уйдя, ищи спасенье
В Духе — всюду Разложенье.
Коль сознание вовне,
Испаряется в Говне

Мира рабского тупого.
Оступился — пробуй снова.
Пусть простой сей механизм —
Отступает кретинизм.

Далее пути к Истоку
Ты ищи, покинув Жопу.
Мир Зла Жопа, "перемены" —
Слов понос — сокрытье Плена.

Веет "ветер перемен":
Одной Мерзости взамен
Нагоняет он Другую —
И Душа сильней тоскует.


Вариант припева:
Веет "ветер перемен":
Мерзости одной взамен
Нагоняет он Другую —
И Душа сильней тоскует.

Вариант:
И уныние придёт.



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



"Перемены": Лжи на смену
Гонится другая Ложь.
На МАРАЗМ и Страх умножь —
Нет конца у ТВАРЕЙ плену.




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



Гомункулы Адских Сфер

Гомункул сказка иль реал?
Что если мир когда-то пал,
Пред Злом склонившись, превратившись
В лабораторию? Вцепившись

В обманы ТВАРЕЙ, не поймёшь:
Гомункул — ты, для Тьмы как вошь.
Раздавят, новых заведут,
Гоня на бойни и на труд.

Здесь Демиург, а бога нет.
Иное — наведённый Бред.
И лишь в Душе есть тусклый свет.
В мирке его в помине нет.

И Внутрь уйдя, тот Свет найдя,
Ищи к Истоку тонкий луч.
Вне Сферы Ада тот Исток.
В Тьме врут и Запад, и Восток:

На самом Дне, один в Говне
Ты обитаешь, и искать
Здесь нечего, себе не лгать
Коль в Страхе. А на Зло пенять

Не надо долго: все подлоги,
Что для Разумного убоги,
Ты разбери и в корень зри —
Здесь не видать опять Зари.

Духовный Путь чрез Муть и Жуть —
Единое, что остаётся.
Коль Путник в Аде не сдаётся,
То, может, к СВЕТУ доберётся.
Свет к СВЕТУ. Скоро Ад загнётся:
Иное — лишь во Лжи сдаётся.




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



С СМРАДов воем
"Строим" строем
Иль по норам:
То и это
Приговором
Дурням стало —
Жизнь пропала:
Чуши, бреда
В ней немало.




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



Гадом буду — в Лжи пребуду,
Постепенно превращаясь
Из паскуды в Тьме в иуду,
"Счастие" найти отчаясь.




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



Слепая вера как пещера:
Во Тьме мошенник огнь зажжёт,
Залив иные — и Химера
До БЕЗОБРАЗИЯ растёт.



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



Марионетки

На шарнирах в глупом мире
В Балаган с толпой дойдёшь.
Карабас засел в сортире —
Думу думает, как вошь

Балаганную унизить.
И подсказкой вновь говно:
Опустить тряпичных ниже —
Бум!!! в очередное Дно.

Прикрепляются шарниры
В детстве, смазка — Ложь и Страх.
Словно коробы квартиры,
Тяжесть жизДни на плечах.

Испаряются надежды,
"Знанья" словно нафталин —
Задыхаются невежды.
Новым комом каждый блин.

Сценарист закончил пьесу —
Называется "Раздрай".
Вместо бога снова бесы —
Обещают куклам рай.

Карабас — продюсер. Гонит
Режиссёра на прогон:
Надо втюхать БОЛЬШЕ Вони,
Превратив театр в Загон.

Арлекино уж в скотину
Превращается: тоска
Доконала. Гните спину —
Планка "нормы" вновь низка.

Планка, Дно, "идей" говно —
Балагана суть всегда.
"В ощущениях дано" —
Мерзость, шкурность и Беда.

Солнце светит всё сильней:
Сухость — вспыхнет Балаган!
Без шарниров кто — вольней
Дышит: им он Плахой дан.

И не надо ждать Конца —
Устремляйся в Чистый Дух:
Огнь угробит подлеца —
Всех Теней Театра слуг.




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



Хана! Муть Дна опять взболтать —
Дурью наврать и запугать —
С трудом получится: в бетон
Чернь превратилась — стих и стон.




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



Перманентный фашистский режим

Ублюдочный режим,
Который Злом храним:
Народец им гнобим,
"Отечество" как дым.

Развеют мигом дым —
Останется лишь СМРАД. 
Становится другим
Режим, в котором гад —

Обычный "гражданин",
А попросту кретин:
Меняется фасад —
Поверить дурень рад,

Что к лучшему идёт.
В обломе идиот —
Заместо крупных пут
Помельче нитей пуд.

Одну ты оборвёшь,
Другую, но найдёшь
Потом поверх ещё —
Старается ТВАРЬЁ.

Ублюдочный режим
Чрез мелочи храним:
Народец вновь гнобим
Тиранством — чуть другим.

"Заботится" режим —
Говнид то показал.
Становится другим
Чрез Лжи Девятый Вал.

Чрез паузу идёт
Вновь Страшная Волна.
И снова идиот
Поверит. Грош цена

Посулам, что ТВАРЬЁ
Вновь черни выдаёт:
Чудовищней Гнильё
Всех легковерных ждёт.

Злу верящий урод,
И оных большинство,
Веками счастье ждёт,
А ТВАРЕЙ торжество

Не видит, ослеплён
Он Страхом через Ложь.
Режим чрез Ложь силён,
Покорность ТВАРЯМ сплошь.

Ублюдочный режим
Веками Злом храним:
Народец им гнобим,
"Отечество" как дым.

Говнид всем показал,
Что дымом целый мир
Во Лжи Тотальной стал,
Хоть здравие кумир.

Болезнь ума диагноз
Всемирный, потому
Весьма плохой прогноз:
Быть Рабскому Дерьму

Веками. Казусок
Закрался в Зла шаблон:
Чрез Катаклизм мирок
Изгонит рабство вон.

Погибнут все рабы —
Так рабство одолеть.
Избранникам судьбы —
В Духовный Мир лететь.

Избранник — тот кто в Тьме
Хранит Духовный Свет,
Не потеряв в Дерьме
Свой Разум, херя Бред

Тотальный мировой.
Со светлой головой
Ищи пути в Исток,
Забыв Гнилой Мирок.

Первичности Исток —
Лишь это Духу впрок.
Врут Запад и Восток:
Вне Ада он, далёк.




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



Мороз по коже, видя рожи
С печатью рабства, дебилизм,
Сквозящий также. ТВАРИ множат
Таких чрез школы — сплошь фашизм.




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



Короед оставит след
На Земле? Не будет так:
Солнце, испаряя Бред,
Сп`алит весь Гнилой Бардак.




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



На свидание пришёл,
Покидая Произвол:
Мозгоёбство как пространство
Позабыть мирка Засранство.

Впрочем, супер-мозгоёбка
Будет в браке: туп как пробка
Муж, жена стервозна, гл`упа —
Полу-люди-недо-трупы.



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



Над-личностность

Полу-люди-недо-трупы,
Злу покорны, в страхе глупы —
Окружение твоё:
Мир — Тлетворное Гнильё.

Нахожденья нет причины
Средь убогой дурачины:
Внутрь как в скит уйдя, ищи
Явь и Свет, иль не взыщи —

В гада дурни превратят:
Бьют сильней, чем автомат.
Ложь — патроны. Их подносят
СМРАДы, даже коль не просят.

Повторенье Лжи больней
Огнестрела. Норов "бей" —
Всех в бредок свой обращай
(Мерзость, Чушь сплошь повторяй) —

Прививается с пелёнок.
Но с подменой — ум не тонок:
Рабство назовут свободой,
Новой "нормою" — уродов.

И так далее — всю Чушь,
Мерзость для гнобленья Душ
Муторно перечислять:
Прорывается вновь "****ь!".

Впрочем, ****ь свята: продажность,
Что скрывается чрез "важность",
Мзду, "успехи" пустобрехи
Превратили в Язву. Вехи

Деградации сокрыты:
Школы лгут. Чуть недобиты —
Полу-люди-недо-трупы —
Часть процесса: средства грубы —

Геноцид, фашизм, Ложь, Страх,
Бред. Блуждание впотьмах
Даже лучших среди кучи
Мерзостей под Чуши тучей

Завершается обычно
Крахом. В том виною личность:
Лишь над-личностность Ведёт.
Покидай скорее сброд —
Путь в Исток отважных ждёт:
Первозданности Исток —
В пику миру не... жесток.



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



Всепрощенье в поколеньях =>
Оттого мир на коленях.
Так он ползает давно,
Нюхая во Тьме Говно.




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



Чмо и средство ПВО

ГМО и ПВО —
Жрёт, наводит это чмо:
Мир — единая ловушка.
Средство ТВАРЕЙ — дурень-душка.



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



The Wind of Change

The "wind of change" begins to blow:
One foul reign replaced by woe.
Every horror yields another—
Still the soul grows sadder, darker.

Vice is branded "good" once more,
Or "progress" masks corruption's core.
Chains keep changing shape and fashion,
Lies grow sharper through deception.

Century on century rolls.
Fools are forged to fill their roles.
Walls alone cannot enslave us—
Nonsense built instead to cage us.

Fence the minds with hollow cries,
Turn them one against the next.
Change the methods of oppression—
Thus survives the fascist cesspit.

The "wind of change" begins to blow:
One foul reign replaced by woe.
Every horror yields another—
Still the soul grows sadder, darker.

Grief has crossed its highest mark:
Watch the fool perform his part.
Empty laws and useless barriers,
Scars inflicted by their carriers.

Hopeless is the faithful drone,
Citizen of lands unknown—
States existing just in name,
Sheep by any common claim.

"Sheep-virus" stripped the grand disguise:
Total lies and fear-filled skies
Showed the depth of mind's decay,
Souls long since all sold away.

Blindness spreads from shore to shore;
Few perceive the madhouse more.
Like rare birds almost departed,
Truth grows faint and broken-hearted.

Fresh "reforms" prepare instead
Half-made beasts to take their stead.
Not an idiot—merely tame,
Fit to feed the Camp of Shame.

Now the Digital Camp draws near:
Jaws will think, while minds disappear.
Brains reduced to shriveled clutter—
Such the price when evil's suffered.

The "wind of change" begins to blow:
One foul reign replaced by woe.
Every horror yields another—
Still the soul grows sadder, darker.

Yet disaster waits for Wrong:
Neo-fascist dreams aren't long.
They will never fully bind
Every spirit, every mind.

Turn within and seek salvation;
Rot consumes the outer nation.
If your mind lives only there,
Filth dissolves it into air.

In this dull enslaved domain,
Fall—but rise and fight again.
Simple is the path's command:
Leave behind the fool's wasteland.

Seek the Source with steady sight,
Leave the pit and seek the Light.
Every "change" that Evil praises
Only hides the prison's traces.

The "wind of change" begins to blow:
One foul reign replaced by woe.
Every horror yields another—
Still the soul grows sadder, darker.



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




Forgiveness through each passing age
Has kept the world a grovelling stage.
Long it crawls through endless night,
Sniffing filth with dull delight.



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




Endless mercy, age by age,
Keeps the world in servile cage.
Long it crawls through shades untold,
Sniffing filth where darkness rolled.




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




False I'll stay, come what may,
Living in deceit each day;
From a scoundrel, dark and crude,
Slowly turning into Judas, joy subdued.



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




I'll embrace the path of lies,
Where my fallen spirit dies;
From a rogue in darkness bred
To a Judas, hope long fled.




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



Homunculi of Hell's Domains

Is Homunculus mere ancient lore,
Or something real at mankind's core?
What if our world to Evil bowed,
A living laboratory now?

Ensnared by monsters' grand deceit,
You never know whom you may meet.
Perhaps you're bred to serve the Night—
A louse beneath its crushing might.

They'll crush you down and breed anew
Another slave to toil straight through,
To slaughterhouses, endless pain—
The breeding cycle starts again.

No God resides—the Maker's gone.
A false Demiurge lingers on.
All else is madness, false and blind;
The world knows nothing of the Mind.

One fading Light still lives inside;
No spark remains the world to guide.
Go deep within and seek that flame,
Whose silent Source no Hell can claim.

Beyond these infernal spheres It lies,
Where neither East nor West tells lies.
For both deceive within the Night,
And hide the everlasting Light.

At Hell's abyss, in filth alone,
You wander through a world of stone.
Seek nothing here, deceive no soul,
For Fear has always claimed its toll.

Waste not your breath accusing Wrong;
Expose each fraud where it belongs.
Look to the root, discern the whole—
No dawn will bless this fallen hole.

Through mire and horror runs one Way;
The Spirit's path alone will stay.
Who does not yield while trapped in Hell
May yet ascend where true Lights dwell.

Light seeks the Light beyond the veil.
Soon Hell itself at last shall fail.
Whatever else the darkness weaves
Collapses where deception breathes.



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




Will the woodworm leave its stain
On the Earth? Its hopes are vain.
Once the Sun burns lies away,
Rot will perish in its blaze.



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




Will the bark beetle leave its mark?
No—it ends within the dark.
When the Sun burns lies away,
Rot and ruin fade to gray.



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



Puppets

Joint by joint through foolish lands,
To the puppet show one crawls.
Karabas sits on his throne—
Plotting like a louse alone,

How to shame the painted crew.
Filth suggests what next to do:
"Drag the rag dolls even lower!"
Boom!—another darkest hour.

Hinges fastened in our youth,
Greased with Fear instead of Truth.
Lives weigh down like heavy stone,
Every shoulder bears its own.

Hope dissolves and fades away;
"Knowledge" reeks of yesterday.
Ignorance can scarcely breathe—
Every dawn brings fresh defeat.

Now the playwright drops his pen:
Chaos is the title then.
Devils rule where God once shone,
Promising a heaven gone.

Karabas, producer sly,
Drives directors hard to try:
"More corruption! More decay!
Turn the stage into a pen!"

Harlequin becomes a beast;
Sorrow grants him no release.
"Bend your backs!" the masters cry—
Lower still the standard lies.

Lower standards, deeper pit,
Rotten slogans, endless grit—
Such the puppet theatre's art:
Misery in every heart.

Yet the Sun burns ever bright;
Soon the stage ignites with Light.
Those without the joints or strings
Breathe as free awakened beings.

Wait not for the final day—
Seek the Spirit's purer Way.
Fire will judge the knaves at last,
And the servants of shadows past.



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




Shivers strike at vacant eyes
Stamped with bondage, dull disguise.
Monsters breed them year by year—
Schools make fascism persevere.



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




Chills run deep at slavish faces,
Branded minds in hollow traces.
Monsters forge them, one by one—
Schools keep fascism marching on.



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




Off to meet my longed-for date,
Leaving tyranny and hate;
Mind-twisting madness left behind,
Filth no longer clouds the mind.

Yet the greatest mental strife
Comes disguised as married life:
Blockhead husband, shrewish wife—
Half-alive through all their life.



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




To a rendezvous I fled,
Leaving lawless days for dead.
Dreaming mind games all would cease,
Far from that world's foul disease.

Then comes marriage—what a joke!
Duller than a wine-cork bloke,
Nagging wife and witless groom—
Living corpses sharing doom.



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



Transpersonal Being

Half-made humans, living dead,
Fearful minds by Evil led—
Such the crowd surrounding you,
Rotting through and through.

Why remain among the blind,
Withered bodies, crippled mind?
Turn within—a hermit's way;
Seek the Light or lose the Day.

Else the fools will shape your soul,
Twisting till they take control.
Bullets made of lies are fired,
Fed by media, never tired.

Falsehood, echoed day by day,
Wounds far deeper than a spray
Shot from guns. Their battle plan:
Turn all people to one clan—

One delusion, one refrain:
"Keep repeating lies again!"
From the cradle they are taught;
Truth is buried, freedom bought.

Slavery is freedom named,
Vice by "normal" is acclaimed.
Thus the endless fraud proceeds,
Poison flowering into weeds.

Naming every trick and stain,
Every insult, every chain,
Only wearies heart and tongue—
Once again the curse is sung.

Yet the harlot's trade is plain,
Holier than the masks they feign.
Power, titles, hollow fame
Hide corruption just the same.

Marks of ruin stay concealed;
Schools ensure they're never healed.
Half-made humans, living dead,
By deception onward led.

Genocide and fear and lies,
Darkness masking blinded eyes—
Even nobler souls are drowned
Where deceit and noise abound.

Most are broken in the end,
For the self cannot transcend.
Only what transcends the "I"
Leads the spirit to the Sky.

Leave the herd without delay;
Braver hearts will find the Way.
Seek the primal Source above—
Pure in truth, untouched by hate,
Standing free from all the world's
Cruelty and spite.



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




"Change" means one more lie takes flight,
Chasing down the last outright.
Madness joined with fear will prove:
Monsters' chains no end shall move.



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




"Change" replaces lie with lie;
One deceit's replaced nearby.
Mixed with madness, fed by fear—
Monsters' prison knows no end here.



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



The Permanent Fascist Regime

A bastard regime,
By Evil kept alive,
Where people are oppressed,
While "homeland" fades like smoke.

The smoke will disappear,
And only stench remain.
The system changes clothes,
Yet poison stays the same.

A tyrant becomes now
An ordinary "man"—
A citizen in name,
A fool who plays his part.

The mask is changed anew,
And fools believe with joy:
"At last the future comes!"
Yet dreams collapse to dust.

Instead of giant chains,
They forge much thinner threads.
You break one thread today—
Another waits ahead.

Then higher, layer by layer,
The monster builds its net.
The creature never rests;
It seeks to rule again.

A bastard regime survives
Through little daily lies:
The people still are crushed,
Though methods now disguise.

The regime "cares" for all—
CowID revealed the game.
It changes through the storm
Of lies that flood the world.

A pause precedes the wave,
A terrifying tide.
And once again the fool
Will trust the promised dawn.

The price of empty words
That monsters sell to crowds:
A deeper, darker rot
Awaits the trusting souls.

The fool who worships Evil,
And most become such fools,
For centuries awaits
The happiness of slaves.

He cannot see the feast
Of monsters and their pride:
Fear blinds him through the lies
That keep him chained inside.

Through lies the regime survives,
Through lies it stands so strong;
Submission to the beasts
Becomes the people's law.

A bastard regime survives
For centuries through Evil:
The people still are crushed,
And "homeland" fades like smoke.

CowID revealed to all
That smoke had filled the world;
That total lies had spread,
Though "health" became the god.

The diagnosis is clear:
A sickness of the mind.
The global prognosis:
Slavery remains behind.

For centuries it may last,
Yet Evil missed one thing:
A catastrophe may come
That breaks the slave's old ring.

All slaves may perish then—
Thus slavery is slain.
The chosen ones will rise
Into the Spiritual Realm.

The chosen one is he
Who keeps within the dark
A living spark of Light,
Preserving mind and soul.

Who does not lose his reason
In filth and endless lies,
Who does not drown his thought
In madness spread worldwide.

With clear and awakened mind,
Seek pathways to the Source.
Forget the rotten world
That circles in its doom.

The Source of primal Truth—
The only food for Spirit.
East lies, and West lies too:
Beyond Hell it is hidden.



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




With the media we cry,
"Build!"—we march beneath the sky,
Or we hide within our holes,
Lost and broken, empty souls.

This and that became the sentence,
Judging fools with false repentance.
Life itself has slipped away,
Buried under nonsense' sway.



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




With the media we wail,
March in rows or hide and fail.
Into dens or into lines—
Both become the fool's designs.

Every verdict, every scheme,
Kills the remnants of the dream.
Life is drowned in endless chatter,
Full of nonsense, empty matter.



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




Blind faith is like a cave of night:
A fraudster sparks a false-born light.
He blinds the souls that gather near—
Till monstrous chimeras appear.



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




Blind faith becomes a shadowed cave,
Where tricksters light the flames they crave.
They drown all truths, and from the gloom
Grow chimeras beyond doom.



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




I'll harden, but I won't bend,
In Hell's trial I won't descend.
Outside a wolf, inside a goose—
Every mushroom bears its bruise.



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




I'll growl, but never bow,
In Hell don't fear the battle now.
A wolf outside, within a goose—
Rot hides beneath each mushroom's use.



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




It's over! To stir the mud below,
To spread mad lies and fearsome show—
Will hardly work, for hardened stone
Now stands where crowds once groaned alone.



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




No chance! The bottom's mud to raise,
To fool with lies and fearful plays.
The crowd has turned to concrete wall—
No cries, no verses move at all.



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



GMO and A.A.

GMO and air defense—
Feeds, it aims, with no finesse.
The world becomes a single snare,
A beast's own weapon—fools beware.



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




GMO and anti-air,
Feeds the fool and leads him there.
The world—a trap from end to end,
A monster's tool, a fool's best friend.







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



Мерзость => дерзость: не сдавайся —
Осознать весь Ад пытайся
И, поняв, что нету шанса
В гиблом мире декаданса,
Явь и Свет ищи внутри —
Не дождёшься в нём Зари.




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



П-резидент Украины расстроился из-за Бучи, но не из-за шмурдяка

Шмурдяк иль Буча — что страшнее?
Как-будто пуля бьёт сильнее...
ГОРАЗДО больше жертв шмурдяк
Пронёс чрез Мировой Бардак
На кладбища, но потихоньку.
Говно Режима: только тронь-ка
"Забот" всех суть, так! завоняет,
Что краткий миг не обещает,
Дорогу в Ад стелить прервавши,
В ответке буйной одичавши.
 




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



Гулливер и Карабас
С детства впечатляют нас,
Так как куклы, лилипуты —
Большинство. В "сознаньи" путы,
А верёвочки лишь образ —
Строя рабского прообраз.



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



Золотые копи —
В пропаганде. В Жопе,
Если ты в реале, —
Ниже ДНИЩА пали.



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



"Глубинный народ" —
Дурак иль урод.
Кто умный — бегом!,
Спасайся! — Дурдом!!!



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



Секрет шинеля, который "поли":
Столь! туп Емеля, что больше боли
Ему впендюрить в псевдожизнь —
Вопрос говённый. Чернь, очнись!..



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



Погружаясь в религиозную муть

Религиозная свол`ота
Вновь лепит из тебя урода,
Пречистый Дух на "небо" сбагрив,
Лишив Прозрений и отваги.

Внутри тот Дух. "Раб божий" слух
Вновь режет. Но сомненья реже
Ум посещают — оглупленье
Через... Рогатому! служенье.

Сокрытый в книгах сатанизм
В обрядах видим. Кретинизм
Толпы большой: не замечают,
Затем всю жизДнь во Тьме страдают.




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



"Половинка" под сурдинку
Превращается в овраг.
Поломаешь в оном спинку:
В юбке самый страшный враг.



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



Тяжесть Лжи

Вакса — клякса на носке.
В горе плакса — налегке,
Дети снова вдалеке.
Взрослый: Ложь — с пятном портки.
Удалились дураки.
Запятнавшись, не дойдёшь.
Впрочем, в НИКУДА бредёшь...



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



"Смерть в раю": в Аду гнию,
Сериальчиком утешась,
Забывая, что я пешка.
Скоро нам поставит мат
Злой соперник, но не гад.
Гады — чёрные. Играю
Я за них — в Тьме пропадаю.




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



Мир поэта

Сужен мир: стих, кот, маманька.
Чушь: поэтом смелым стань-ка,
И найдёшь родную душу.
Ложь отринув, Лиру слушай —
С нею иногда не скучно,
Коль слова бьют в Мерзость кучно.
Скукотища в жиже ДНИЩА —
Псевдожизнь. Кругом вонище:
СМРАДы, гады — нет отрады.
Новый стих закончить надо,
Ощутив себя не-гадом.
Не суженье — расширенье:
Если на предел служенье
Музе, будет приз — Прозренья.
Мир покорных идиотов
В схлопе. А твоя работа
Для себя — спасаешь Душу.
Вместе с Лирой Душу слушай
(Синергии редкий случай)
И отчаянье хлебай —
Музы поздний урожай.
До конца в Аду ДЕРЗАЙ!



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



"Где-то за городом
Очень недорого
Папа "купил" папамобиль.




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



Ублюдки пропаганды

Ублюдозы: передозы
Лжи вгоняют в коматоз.
Нереальные угрозы —
И реальнейший психоз.




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



Извилистый путь
Чрез Ложь-Чушь-Муть-Жуть:
Понять рабства суть —
И как ускользнуть
В Духовные Сферы;
Иное — химеры.



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



Серная кислота критичности и её соли

Купорос и слов понос:
Посыпаю — Мерзость тает.
Но дурак опять считает
"Всё окей". Маразм крепчает —
Мир пускается вразнос.
Кислоту лей — к чёрту купорос!



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



Миазмы времени

Время не лечит —
Душу калечит,
Тяжесть на плечи,
Путы на ноги.
Годы => убоги:
Доля столь многих...
Время — Забвенье:
Чрез поколенья
Это МАРАЗМ.
Время — миазм.
Лишь Вневрем`енность
Херит всю бренность.
Внутрь уходи —
Вечность найди.




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



Кукиш с маслом, маргарином
Или с солью: гните спины,
Легковерные кретины,
Превращаясь в Тьме в скотину!



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



Гундос:
Понос
Словесный ярый.
Склонившись, верят вновь лошары.




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



Гандон силён —
Пропагандон!:
Последний ум изгонит вон...
Вновь верит твари мудозвон...




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



Иной ответ на неправильный вопрос

Гамлет мямлит:
"Быть — не быть".
Чернь гнобить —
Чушь избыть.




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



Гадость — в радость: одичалость.
Потерпи, осталось малость:
Уничтожат эту Мерзость.
Внутрь уйдя, ищи — вот смелость.




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



Гитлер, Путлер, Муссолини
И Пол Пот — мирок дебилий.




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



Грязи князь, а проще  — мразь.
ЖизДнь под мразью словно казнь.
Но словами Тьму укрась —
Примут всё, ума лишась.




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



Filth delights the savage mind.
Hold on fast — the end you'll find.
This foul Evil soon will fall.
Seek within — that's courage's call.



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




Filth brings joy to hearts gone wild.
Wait a little, patient child.
Soon this monstrous reign will cease.
Turn within — there lies your peace.



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




Filth is pleasure for the base.
Bear a little — ends the race.
This Abomination dies.
Search within — where true courage lies.



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




A prick stands tall —
Propaganda's thrall!
He drives the final wit away...
And fools believe the fraud each day.



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




The bastard's strong —
The propaganda's tongue!
He strips the last sane thought away...
Yet fools applaud the lies all day.



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




The fool prevails —
Propaganda hails!
It drives the final mind away...
Still dupes believe the loudmouth's play.



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




The prick stands strong —
Propaganda's tongue!
It drives the final mind away...
Yet fools believe the fraud today.



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




Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot crowned the fools' dominion.



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




Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot — idols of the brainless many.



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




Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot ruled insanity.



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




Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot — a world of imbecility.



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




Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot — fools' dark dynasty.



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




Prince of filth — or simply scum.
Life beneath him numbs us dumb.
Dress the Darkness, gild the lie —
Mindless crowds will gladly buy.



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




Prince of filth, a wretched beast.
Life beneath him is the least.
Dress up Darkness, make it bright —
Reason fades from every sight.



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




Prince of mire, the vilest slime.
Life becomes a death in time.
Paint the Darkness, praise the fraud —
Brains surrender to the charade.



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




Prince of filth — the lowest breed.
Life turns into pain indeed.
Wrap the Darkness, praise its grace —
Thought itself they soon erase.



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




Gulliver and Karabas
Shape our childhood, molding us.
Puppets, Lilliputians too —
They're the many, not the few.
Mental chains are hidden strings;
Thus begins the rule of kings.



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




Gulliver and Karabas
Haunt our childhood, shaping us.
Puppets, Lilliputians too —
They are what the masses do.
Strings are but a symbol's art;
Slavery begins in hearts.



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




Gulliver and Karabas
From our childhood capture us.
Puppets, Lilliputians all —
Most are trapped behind the wall.
Strings are but a metaphor;
Minds enslaved—that's what they're for.



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




Drone.
Verbal sewage
Poured in streams.
Bowing low, fools trust his schemes.



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




Nasal drone.
Endless crap
Spills along.
Dupes still kneel and cheer the song.



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




Droning bore.
Wordy flood
Without end.
Fools still bow and call him friend.



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




Drone.
Verbal diarrhea
Without cease.
Fools bow down with perfect ease.



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




Golden mines
Fill propaganda's lines.
Real life's in the pit—
Below rock bottom's hit.



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



Gold is mined
In propaganda's mind.
Real life's gone to hell—
Far below where bottoms fell.



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




Golden veins
Flow through propaganda's veins.
Reality's down the drain—
Past rock bottom once again.



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




Gold abounds
Where propaganda sounds.
Real life's in despair—
Below the lowest layer.



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




Golden mines
Live in propaganda's lines.
Real life's in the pit—
Below rock bottom still.



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




Golden dreams
Flood propaganda's streams.
Real life's in the pit—
Past rock bottom, bit by bit.



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




A winding way
Through Lies–Noise–Haze–Dismay;
Learn slavery's art
And how to depart
For Spiritual Spheres;
The rest disappears.



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




A twisting trail
Through Lies–Sham–Gloom–Fail;
Know bondage's core,
Escape evermore
To Spirit's domain;
All else is in vain.



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




A crooked flight
Through Falsehood, Fog and Fright;
See slavery's chain,
Break free once again
For heavenly spheres;
The rest—empty fears.



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




A winding route
Through Lies–Nonsense–Murk–Fear throughout;
To grasp slavery's snare
And vanish elsewhere,
To Spiritual Spheres;
The rest—mere chim;res.

Variant of last line.
The rest—mere chimeras.



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




A winding way
Through Lies–Noise–Haze–Dismay;
To fathom the chain,
Then break it and gain
The Spiritual Spheres;
All else—chimeras.



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




A winding way
Through Lies, Murk, Dread, Decay;
To know slavery's snare,
Then slip through elsewhere
To Spiritual Spheres;
The rest—mere chimeras.



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




Hamlet mutters:
"To be—or not?"
Break the mob—
Break false thought.



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




Hamlet sighs:
"To be—or cease?"
Free the mind;
End deceit.



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




Hamlet mumbles:
"To be—or fade?"
Crush the herd;
Crush charade.



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




Hamlet drones:
"To be—or not?"
Kill the nonsense,
Not the lot.



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




Hamlet mumbles:
"To be—or not."
Rule the rabble;
Slay the rot.



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




Hamlet mutters:
"To be—or not?"
Break the madness;
Break false thought.



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




Butter, salt, or margarine—
You get nothing in between.
Bow, you gullible fools, and see
Darkness turns you into beasts.



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




Butter, margarine, or salt—
Nothing comes but your default.
Bend your backs, you witless herd,
Darkness makes you grazing curds.



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




Butter, salt, or greasy spread—
Empty promises instead.
Bend your backs, you simple swine,
Darkness steals your heart and mind.



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




Butter, margarine, or brine—
Empty hands are all you'll find.
Stoop, credulous fools, obey;
Darkness beasts you day by day.



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




Butter, salt, or margarine—
Nothing's ever yours to win.
Bend your backs, you trusting fools,
Darkness turns you into mules.



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




Butter, salt, or margarine—
Nothing's yours, nor has it been.
Bend your backs, credulous fools;
Darkness breeds obedient mules.



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




From filth to defiance — don't surrender,
Seek the Hell that hides in splendor.
When you see there's no way out
From decay where shadows sprout,
Seek the Truth and Light within —
For no dawn will rise therein.



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




From vile to bold — refuse to bend,
Try to grasp the Hell without end.
When you learn this dying world
Leaves its darkness still unfurled,
Seek the Light that lives inside —
There alone your Truth can hide.



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




Filth to courage — rise and fight,
Face the Hell and seek the Light.
When you know this world of decay
Has no saving, no bright way,
Turn within and find the Flame —
Here no dawn will ever come.



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




From filth to defiance — don't surrender,
Seek the Hell beneath the splendor.
When you know this world of decay
Has no dawn to light the way,
Seek the Truth and Light within —
Only there can you begin.



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



Miasms of Time

Time does not heal —
It wounds what we feel.
A burden to bear,
Chains binding us there.
Years turn to dust,
A fate of the many,
Forgotten and empty,
Lost in the plenty.

Time is Oblivion,
Through generations —
A madness preserved,
A plague undeserved.
Time is a miasm,
A poison in motion.

Only the Timeless
Breaks all that is lifeless.
Turn deep within —
Eternity win.



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



The Miasms of Time

Time never heals,
It scars and it steals.
Weight on the shoulder,
Chains growing colder.
Years become hollow,
As countless souls follow.

Time is Forgetting,
Through ages upsetting.
Across generations,
Spreads mental stagnation.
Time is a miasm,
A plague of the mind.

Only the Timeless
Leaves decay behind.
Go deep within —
Eternity win.



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



Miasms of Time

Time never heals —
It breaks what it feels.
Burden and chain,
Sorrow and pain.
Years become hollow,
Millions still follow.

Time is Oblivion,
Through every generation.
Time is a miasm,
A plague of the mind.

Only the Timeless
Can leave dust behind.
Search deep within —
Eternity win.



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



The Poet’s World

A narrowed world: a verse, a cat, a mother dear.
"What nonsense! Be a fearless poet, have no fear!"
Yet you may find a kindred soul somewhere inside,
Rejecting lies, let Lyre become your guide.

With her, at times, the emptiness grows less severe,
When words strike Evil’s fortress, sharp and clear.
The swamp below is boredom, filth and stench,
A fake existence trapped within its wretched trench.

The media, the villains — everywhere decay;
No joy remains along this poisoned way.
But finish your new poem, stand upright,
And feel yourself no creature of the night.

Not narrowing — but widening your domain;
If service to the Muse becomes your chain,
The prize will come: a vision bright and true,
A revelation opening worlds anew.

The realm of obedient fools will collapse and fade;
Your work for yourself — a soul that you have saved.
Together with the Lyre, hear the spirit's song,
A rare synergy where two worlds belong.

Drink deeply from despair, endure the final trial —
The Muse’s late harvest, bitter yet worthwhile.
Until the end, in Hell itself, remain defiant —
Rise, dare, create — and never bow compliant.



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




"The Deep Folk" —
Fools or a joke.
If you're wise — run fast!
Escape the madhouse!



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




"The Deep People" —
Fools or crippled steeple.
The wise must flee,
From this insanity!



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




"The Depths of the Nation" —
A fool's domination.
If you're sane — run away!
From the madhouse today!



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




"The Deep Folk" —
A fool or a freak.
The wise ones, take flight!
Save yourselves — quick!



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




"The Deep Folk" —
Fools or a joke.
If you're wise — run fast!
Escape the madhouse!



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




"The Deep Folk" —
Fools or a joke.
If you're sane — depart!
A madhouse at heart!



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




Somewhere far from town,
Cheap as it can be found,
Daddy went and bought
A brand-new "Dad-mobile" he sought.



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




Somewhere out of town,
For a bargain price found,
Papa proudly bought
A "Papamobile" he sought.



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




Beyond the city line,
For a price so fine,
Dad acquired with style
His own "Papa-mobile".



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




Somewhere past the town,
Cheap enough to buy down,
Father got a ride —
A "Papa-mobile" to drive.



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




Somewhere out of town,
For a bargain price found,
Papa proudly bought
A "Papamobile" he sought.



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




Sinking into religious mire,
Blind zeal feeds the darkest fire.
The Purest Spirit cast away,
To distant heavens sent astray,
Leaves human courage, leaves insight,
And dims the soul’s remaining light.

The Spirit dwells within your core;
"God’s slave" — that phrase cuts evermore.
Yet doubts grow weaker in the mind,
As thought is left behind, confined.
Through serving powers of horn and night,
The mind gives up its inner sight.

Hidden in books, dark seeds remain;
In rites and symbols they appear again.
The crowd, in endless blindness caught,
Sees not the chains that bind their thought.
And through a life of shadowed pain,
They walk in darkness once again.



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




Into religious mud you fall,
Where hollow idols rule them all.
The Purest Spirit thrown away,
Your courage and your visions stray.

The Spirit lives within the heart;
"God’s slave" tears the soul apart.
Less and less the questions rise —
The mind grows dull beneath the skies.
Through service to the Horned One’s throne,
You lose the truth that was your own.

Dark seeds are hidden in the page,
In rituals dressed as holy rage.
The crowd sees nothing, follows blind,
And leaves the light of thought behind.



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




A "better half" in secret guise
Turns into a valley deep.
Break your back beneath those skies —
The worst foe wears a skirt to keep.



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




A "sweet half" behind the veil
Becomes a ditch, a deadly trail.
You may break your back in there —
The fiercest foe may wear a pair.



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




"Half of me" beneath the tune
Turns into a deadly dune.
Break your back and lose your fight —
Skirted enemy hides in sight.



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




A "loving half" slips out of view,
A hidden gorge appears anew.
Fall inside and break your spine —
The skirted devil seems benign.



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




Ukraine’s P-resident mourned Bucha’s fate,
But not the swill that kills at greater rate.

The booze or Bucha — what is worse?
Which wound strikes deeper like a curse?
As if a bullet’s deadly flight
Could hit with more destructive might...

Far more the swill has claimed its toll,
Through chaos spreading o’er the whole
World’s broken stage, toward silent graves,
Where countless nameless shadows fade.

The Regime’s filth — just touch the stain,
And all its "care" reveals its bane.
The stench will rise, the mask will tear,
No brief excuse can hide what’s there.

The road to Hell, once smoothly laid,
Cannot be stopped by words or aid;
And savage answers, wild and blind,
Will burst from hearts that lost their mind.



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




Bucha or booze — which carries doom?
Which brings the world a darker gloom?
A bullet strikes, but hidden swill
Has carried graves beyond the hill.

Through chaos spreading, slow and deep,
It sends the countless souls to sleep.
Touch the regime’s decaying core —
The stench will rise forevermore.

The road to Hell is paved with lies;
The beast awakes, the savage cries.



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




The secret of the coat they "sold" —
Such! a dull Emelya, old.
More pain to add to his fake life?
A filthy question, full of strife.
O common folk, awake at last!
Break free from shadows of the past.



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




The secret of the coat they "wear":
So dumb is Emelya there.
To drive more suffering in his life —
A rotten question, full of strife.
O foolish crowd, open your eyes!
See through the endless pack of lies.



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




The coat's great secret, hidden well:
How stupid Emelya fell.
To add more torment to his days —
A question born in filthy haze.
Wake up, you masses, break the spell!
Before you sink too deep in Hell.



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



Sulfuric Acid of Critique

Vitriol and a flood of words —
I sprinkle, and the filth dissolves.
But fools declare, with empty grin,
"All is fine" — the rot grows in.
Madness spreads, the world decays,
Chaos marches through its days.
Pour the acid, let it flow —
Forget the vitriol below!



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




Acid of critical fire,
Burn away the filth and mire.
Vitriol mixed with verbal waste —
Truth dissolves the rotten taste.
Still the fool says, "All is right,"
While madness conquers day and night.
Pour the acid, let it bite —
Spare no rust, expose the blight.



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




Vitriol and wordy streams:
Sprinkle acid on the schemes.
Filth will melt and disappear,
Yet the fool still shouts: "No fear!"
"All is well" — the madness grows,
As the world toward ruin goes.
Pour the acid, let it burn —
To the vitriol never turn!



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




"Death in Paradise" —
In Hell I rot,
A little show
Forgetting my lot.

I lose the thought
That I am but a pawn;
Soon checkmate comes,
And all will be gone.

The rival is cruel,
Yet not a vile beast;
The black ones are demons,
Their game never ceased.

I play for their side,
I walk in their night —
And vanish forever
Away from the light.



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




"Death in Paradise" —
I rot down in Hell,
With a silly TV tale
To comfort me well.

I forget I am only
A pawn on the board;
Soon checkmate awaits me
From an unseen lord.

A cruel opponent,
But no evil fool;
The wicked are black ones,
They follow the rule.

I play on their side,
In their darkness I stay —
And lose my own soul
As the night takes the day.



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




"Death in Paradise" —
I decay in Hell,
Watching empty stories
To comfort me well.

I forget I'm a pawn
In a merciless game;
Soon checkmate will end me,
And erase my name.

The foe may be cruel,
But not evil's breed;
Black pieces are monsters —
Dark masters they heed.

I fight on their side,
I serve their night —
And drown in the darkness,
Far from the light.



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



The Weight of Lies

Shoe polish — a stain on the sock,
A weeper’s grief — a ticking clock.
Children wander far away,
While adults stain their souls each day.

A lie leaves marks upon the cloth,
A hidden spot, a poisoned broth.
Fools have vanished from the way,
But stained feet cannot stray
Toward a road that leads to truth —
Instead they drift to nowhere’s youth.



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



The Weight of Lies

Polish — a blot upon the sock.
A crying soul forgets the clock.
Children fade into the distance,
Leaving truth without resistance.

An adult wears a lying stain,
A mark that follows like a chain.
Fools depart and lose their way;
Stained hearts cannot reach the day.

Still they wander, blind and lost,
Into nowhere, paying cost.



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



The Burden of Lies

Wax on leather, stain on thread,
Tears of sorrow softly shed.
Children disappear from sight,
Adults walk deeper into night.

Truth is lost beneath the stain,
Falsehood leaves a lasting chain.
Those who lie may walk and roam,
Yet their path leads nowhere home.



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



Propaganda Bastards

Propaganda freaks —
A lethal overdose,
They pump the lies
That drive minds into a comatose.

Imaginary threats
Are painted as real fears,
And from their poisoned tales
A true psychosis appears.



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




Propaganda spawn:
An overdose of lies.
They drug the minds to sleep
With fabricated cries.

False threats become reality,
A madness takes control;
The nightmare they create
Consumes the human soul.



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




Propaganda bastards:
Lie overdose.
They push minds deeper
Into comatose.

Unreal threats rising,
A fictional attack —
Yet real psychosis
Comes marching back.







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



Гробить животину

Дебиляки, Мерзость, Враки:
С "ближним" склоки, с дальним — драки.
Зла тотальные атаки:
На коленях дебиляки.

А "вставание с колен" —
Жизни без проблем взамен:
Оболгут любое. Тьма
Множит лишь Отвал Дерьма.

В нём по шею дебиляки.
Страх в зашкале, ну а Враки
Превзошли Отвал Дерьма —
Трудно не сойти с ума.

Не безумных очень мало =>
И "отечество" пропало:
Скоро в Лагерь Мировой
Охуенно-цифровой
Всем с пробитой головой

Двигаться, ну а пока
Добивают дурака:
Превращение в скотину —
Проще гробить животину.



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



"Сто слов, навитых в черепе на ролик" —
Вот лох докучливый. Чего же боле?
Добавим "скрепы", страх, "патриотизм" —
И, глядь, в зашкале дикий кретинизм.


Примечание: первая строка из стихотворения Саши Чёрного "Пошлость".




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



Лоху плохо — "скрепы" стали
На войне прочнее стаи.
Непрерывная война
С Духом — чтоб достигли Дна.




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



"Вагончик жизни покатился под уклончик"

Под уклончик 
Прёт вагончик.
Скушай пончик
Под музончик.
Дальше — пропасть:
Не полопать.




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



Свобода типа "осознанная необходимость"

"Осознал" "необходимость",
Пестуя в себе терпимость:
Раб тупой — итог процесса.
Не избегнуть ТВАРЕЙ пресса,
Раз "свободы" ахинея
С каждым годом бьёт сильнее.




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



Мифическое воздействие поэзии

Чёрная Лира
Словно секира
Мерзости мира
Бьёт. Кирасира
В страхе встречают —
Не привечают.
Впрочем, то мифы —
В Мороке скифы.




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



Билет в один конец
На станцию "****ец".
Все в поезде — вперёд!:
Рогатый с чаном ждёт.




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



Зомбоящик

Спецкор — вновь вздор.
Его программа
Для дурня-хама
Как пилорама:
Дубов разрежет,
Глядь, дурень — нежить.



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



Гангрена
Измены:
Оттяпали много.
В остатке — убого.




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



Кефир, зефир и простокваша.
Похоже, это счастье наше.




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



Картина _Урикова

Уёбок
В сугробе —
То прошлое. В Лжи
Сегодня придурки —
Кругом Миражи.




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



"Реформы" в формы декаданса —
Для черни не оставить шанса!..




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



Гонка в тысячах стихов:
Выхованец — он таков.




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



Словно птичка я пою,
Думая — почти в раю.
Но откуда, к чёрту, клетка?!
Не в бровь — в глаз — бьют черти метко.
Ошибаешься нередко,
Посчитавши домом Ад.
Если так, не птичка — гад.




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



One-Way Ticket

A one-way ticket, no regrets,
Straight to the Station "Final Threat."
All aboard! The train rolls on—
Horned One waits, his cauldron warm.



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



One-Way Ride

A one-way ride—no turning back,
Bound for Doom on Devil's track.
Everyone aboard—move on!
Horned One waits with boiling pot.



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



One-Way Ticket

One-way ticket—final stop,
Where all hopes forever drop.
Forward! Every soul's on board—
Horned One waits with seething cauldron stored.



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



"Life's Little Wagon Rolls Downhill"

Down the grade
Rolls the ride.
Grab a doughnut,
Smile with pride.
Then—the abyss:
No more bliss.



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



"Life's Little Wagon Rolls Downhill"

Downhill goes
Life's little cart.
Grab a donut,
Have your part.
Soon—the drop:
No more stop.



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



"Life's Little Wagon Rolls Downhill"

Rolling, rolling,
Down the grade.
Eat a doughnut,
Music played.
Then the fall—
That's all.



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




Gangrene
Of betrayal:
So much was cut away—
So little left today.



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




Gangrene
Born of treason:
They carved away the best;
So little now is left.



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




Gangrene
Of deceit:
They hacked off nearly all—
What's left is poor and small.



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




Gangrene
Of betrayal:
They cut away too much—
What's left has lost its touch.



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



Ruining the Beast

Morons, falsehoods, filthy lies—
Feuds with neighbors, distant fights.
Evil storms on every side:
Morons kneel in fear and fright.

Then comes "Rise up from your knees!"—
Sold as life of perfect ease.
Every lie they'll glorify;
Darkness heaps its mountains high.

Neck-deep in that reeking mound,
Morons slowly sink and drown.
Fear has burst beyond all bounds,
Lies outgrow corruption's crown.

Sane minds now are all too few—
So the homeland vanished too.
Soon the whole world's marched away
To a Camp of Digital Sway,
"Brilliant" in its high-tech gray,

Where the broken march in line.
Till that day, they spend their time
Crushing every simple soul,
Turning humans into shoals.
Make them cattle, dull and tame—
Then they're easy all to maim.

---

Variant of the last two lines.

Turn a man into a beast—
Then it's easy to destroy the beast.



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



The Zombie Box

The newsman drones
His endless lies.
His program grinds
Through vacant minds.
Like a sawmill's scream—
A fool's undead.



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



The Zombie Box

The "special" host
Serves nonsense most.
His TV show
Cuts minds down low.
Like timber split—
A zombie's fit.



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



The Idiot Box

The anchor's spiel—
Another sham.
His nightly show
Reshapes the damned.
Like blades through oak,
It carves the fool
Into a ghoul.



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



The Zombie Box

The newsman lies,
His broadcast grinds.
For boors and fools
It saws through minds.
Like timber felled,
The fool is shorn—
A living corpse is born.



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



_Urikov's Painting

An asshole,
Snow-buried—
That's history's role.
Today, through lies,
The fools survive
In endless mirage skies.



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



_Urikov's Canvas

A bastard,
Snow-bound—
That's yesterday.
Today the fools
Through lies are ruled;
Mirages lead the way.



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



_Urikov's Picture

A fool lies
In the snow—
That's long ago.
Now lies prevail,
And idiots hail
Mirages everywhere.



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




Kefir, marshmallow, cultured cream—
Looks like that's our happy dream.



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




Kefir, marshmallow, curds and cream—
Seems that's all we're meant to dream.



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




Kefir, marshmallow, clabbered milk—
Our life's delight, so smooth as silk.



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




Kefir, marshmallows, yogurt too—
Seems that's all our dreams come to.



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




The sucker's sore—his "sacred ties"
Outlast the flock through war and lies.
An endless war against the Soul,
To drag us downward, lose us whole.



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




The fool feels pain, yet still obeys;
His "creeds" survive through bloody days.
The Spirit's under constant fire—
Till all descend into the mire.



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




The sucker's hurting—"values" stay,
More loyal than the pack at bay.
The Spirit fights an endless war,
Till all sink lower than before.



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




The sucker aches—his "sacred creed"
Outlives the pack in times of need.
A ceaseless war against the Soul—
To drive mankind into the Hole.



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



The Mythic Power of Poetry

The Black Lyre
Like a black briar—
No, like an axe—
Strikes evil's cracks.
Cuirassiers flee,
Shunning the free.
Yet myths expire:
All lost in Mire.



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



The Mythic Power of Poetry

The Black Lyre,
Like an axe of fire,
Hacks at the mire
Corrupting the choir.
Cuirassiers fear it,
Never come near it.
But myths deceive—
In Murk we grieve.



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



The Mythic Power of Poetry

The Black Lyre
Burns ever higher.
Like a battle axe
It shatters the cracks
In the world's foul mire.
The cuirassiers quail,
Turn silent and pale.
But myths still conspire—
All fade in the Mire.



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




"Reforms" reshape Decadence—
To leave the masses with no chance!..



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




"Reforms" refine Decadence—
The crowd is stripped of every chance!..



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




"Reforms" take shape as sheer decay—
So common folk are swept away!..



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




"Reforms" become Decadence's art—
To tear the common folk apart!..



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



Freedom as "Conscious Necessity"

"I understand" the "need" at last,
And cherish tolerance unsurpassed.
A mindless slave is what remains—
The final fruit of all these chains.

No escape from the creatures' press,
If "freedom's" growing foolishness
With every year strikes harder still,
And bends the world beneath its will.



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



Freedom: "Conscious Necessity"

"I've learned" the "necessity,"
And worshiped false tolerance endlessly.
A stupid slave—the final stage,
The end result of a modern age.

No way to flee the beasts of press,
When "freedom's" fake absurdity's excess
Each year grows stronger, strikes more deep,
And chains the minds it claims to free.



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



The Bird in Hell

Like a little bird I sing,
Dreaming I'm on Heaven's wing.
But where the hell did come this cage?
Demons strike with perfect rage.

Not the brow, but straight the eye—
Their sharp arrows never miss by.
Often one mistake is made:
Hell is thought a home and shade.

If that's true, then hear the word:
You're no longer a free bird.



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



A False Paradise

Like a bird, I sing my song,
Thinking paradise belongs.
But who built this cursed cage?
Devils strike with deadly rage.

Right in the eye, not on the brow—
They know exactly where and how.
One may think, deceived and glad,
That Hell itself is home, not bad.

But if such a fate you choose to serve—
You're not a bird, but something worse.



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



A Hundred Words on a Spool Inside the Skull

"A hundred words, wound on a spool inside the skull"—
There stands the tiresome fool.
What more is there to say?
Add "sacred bonds," fear, "patriotism"—
And watch: wild idiocy goes over the limit.



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



The Spool Inside the Skull

A hundred words, a little spool
That spins inside the empty skull—
Behold the tiresome fool at last;
No need to add another cast.

Just add some "bonds," some fear, some pride,
"Patriotism" poured inside—
And suddenly, before your eyes,
Mad idiocy begins to rise.



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



The Fool's Inner Reel

A hundred phrases, tightly wound
Inside his skull, forever round—
A boring fool, a talking shell,
Repeating nonsense very well.

Add "sacred ties" and fearsome cries,
Add "patriotism" in disguise—
And there you see the final goal:
A raging idiot takes control.







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



Похерить: верить, подчиняться,
За "счастием" в Дурдоме гнаться.
И если так, то может статься,
В Аду начнёшь ты просыпаться.




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



Уёбки как пробки
Тупы, "простодушны".
Достали ушлёпки —
Тошнотно, не скучно.




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



Серая масса:
Рабский труд, касса,
Ложью прикрасы —
Зла биомасса.




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



Реал Дерьма

Мираж — реал:
Во Лжи пропал
Убогий мир.
Реальны сыр
И мышеловка.
Манок — обновка.
Идеи — чушь:
Гнобленье душ.
Играйте туш —
Мы ТВАРЕЙ куш:
Земля — тюрьма,
РЕАЛ ДЕРЬМА.



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



В Жопе

В Жопе Мира страшно, сиро.
В ней находится квартира
И работа — идиотам,
Тварям, дуракам, уродам.
Не уродцев очень мало,
Потому Земля пропала.
Ненавижу тварей: много!,
"Бытиё" от них убого.
Но смягчается тревога,
****еца ведь ждать не долго:
Солнце светит всё сильнее.
Мир во Зле тупей, подлее
С каждым днём, ведь Дурь не чует —
Поиск Щастья обоснует,
И давай к нему ползти
На коленях. Дух, прости!
Надо Мерзость всю! смести,
Единичность в Тьме спасти.
Зла цикличность. Единичность —
Сохранили Ум и Дух
Среди Ада пошлых слуг.
Прекращай во вне потуг
Ерунду — мирок в Бреду.
Лишь Внутри Явь, Свет найду —
Главный лозунг. Все угрозы
Устарели — лабуда! —
Начинается Страда:
Овощ к овощу и в Ад
Новый. Если ты не гад —
Отыщи пути к Истоку,
Покидая АДА! Жопу.




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



Уебоны как препоны:
Масса в времени урона,
Истощенье нервов, сил —
Хуже ворога дебил.
Зад над креслом свет затмил.
Зада два, в них в вход и выход:
Челюсть, анус. В кресле — лихо,
В пропаганде упыри.
Не видать в Дерьме Зари.



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



Спасение в Говне

Ушёл в Непал
И там пропал.
Не горы — дно:
Спасёт Говно!




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



Единственная тема

На Дне, в Говне,
Бабло в цене.
Вовнутрь извне —
Там только "не".

Не надо лгать
И предавать —
Явь, Свет искать,
Себя спасать.

На Дне, в Говне,
Свет не в цене.
В Говне — во сне.
Кошмар — на Дне.

Вгоняет в сон,
Гоня Дух вон,
Коробя ум,
Привычный хрум.

На Дне, в Говне,
Исчезла Явь,
Нет новизне —
Уродство славь.

Уродство сплошь —
Народ как вошь.
"Меня не трожь!" —
Девиз тех рож.

На Дне, в Говне,
"Заботы" сплошь:
Говнид их перл —
Но лишь до жерл.

Война на Дне
Всегда в цене.
Тупая чернь,
Начальству верь!

Погонят в бой
Под СМРАДов вой.
Смерть, коль гурьбой,
Ништяк. Собой

На Дне, в Говне
Остаться — труд,
Но не вовне.
Пусть ТВАРИ врут

Дурью опять,
Поставь заслон.
Ум, Дух спасать,
Пославши вон

Докуки, Ложь,
Тлетворный страх —
Задача. Множь
Усилья, прах

Мирка долой!
Так вновь собой
В Дурдоме стать —
Из Тьмы сбежать.

Во Тьме умы,
Слепые мы
Средь кутерьмы.
Страшней чумы,

Коль к Свету слеп,
На Дне нелеп.
Мир — тёмный склеп.
В нём Ложь как хлеб.

На Дне, в Говне,
Лишь Луч в цене —
В Исток тот Луч,
Исчез средь туч.

Взлёт по Лучу
К Души Ключу!
Всем! заплачу —
Тогда умчу...

Плати же всем! —
Нет больше тем...




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



Котики морские —
"Бодрые"-тупые.
Мурочки обычные,
К Явищу привычные,
Фору им дадут —
В Лжи не бздят, не врут.




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



Магистры Страха и ****и пропаганды

Кудесник Страха, жизДни Плаха
Тобой изучена, и гнать
Придуркам Чушь с большим размахом —
Как два-три пальца обоссать.
Ссыклявый мир: в нём лже-кумир
"Отдушиной" в Кромешной Тьме.
Везде протух бесплатный сыр —
Страх лучшим средством, чтоб в уме
Осталось только "выживать!"
И пара-тройка лже-идей.
"Идеи" в Дурку будут гнать
Другие — много в Тьме ****ей.
А цель одна — недолюдей
В скотину БЫСТРО превращать.
Говнид пример, как надо БЫСТРО —
Кудесник вырос до Магистра.




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



Доставай из широких штанин кое-что другое...

"Я достаю из широких штанин..."
В.Маяковский


Паспортина для кретина:
Получил, подставишь спину
Под тюки — век напрягайсь.
То похабный аусвайс:
Для ТВАРЬЯ ты лишь девайс.


Вариант предпоследней строки.
То позорный аусвайс:



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



Уебонский мир позорный:
Благостный почин в нём вздорный,
Мерзость прёт на всех парах,
Ложь и страх во всех щелях.




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



"Достойного мэра!"
Иная химера:
"С умом — в президенты".
Другие моменты:
"Порядочных — в Думу",
"К контролю все суммы
Бюджета". Тьма бреда —
В реальности следа
Подобного нету.
"Ворюг всех к ответу!":
Ну прямо Советы —
По Чуши и Шуму.
Дерьмо к тугодуму
Из всех утюгов
Летит. Дураков
Ничто не меняет:
Вновь в Чуши лажают,
Служа Непотребе
С мечтами о хлебе
Насущном и прочем.
Мирок скверен очень:
В нём ум обесточен,
А Дух обречён, —
Дерьмища вагон.




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



"Рост" и вонь фашистского режима

Режим "цветёт".
Придурок ждёт,
Когда запахнет —
СМРАД вонью жахнет.
Уродец ахнет,
Впитавши Бред.
Один ответ
Режиму: "Нет!!!"




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



Чинуша

Семён силён —
Он в кресло влез:
Дурью — "закон".
Над ним лишь бес
И _Пантелей.
_Тот выше — злей.




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



Чинуш артель, или Многоголовая Гидра
 
Семён силён —
Он в кресло влез:
Дурью — "закон".
Над ним бог-бес
И _Пантелей.
_Тот выше — злей.
Но Фрол подлей —
Начальник он,
Чрез мзду силён —
Наверх несёт,
Глав-что-то ждёт.
В Тьме много глав,
Глав-беса сплав, —
От Зла орав
Раздрай. Расправ
Над Мыслью тьма —
Ад без ума
Среди дерьма
Чинуш без душ:
Сума, тюрьма
Разумных ждёт,
Коль пикнут. Сброд
В послушный скот
Сплошь превратить,
Затем сгнобить, —
Глав-беса цель.
Чинуш артель
В том главный ход.
И Лагерь ждёт —
Загонят скот,
Ещё немного
В мирке убогом
В Зле подождать —
Терпеть и Жрать...



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



Гаргулии согнули ли,
Иль сплошь маячил флаг:
В Лжи, в Страхе утонули мы —
"Идеи" худший враг.




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



Ошейник раба и Отстойник Мира

Урод не ждёт,
Ведь Тьма ведёт
За поводок
В Огромный Сток,
А "ум" жесток —
Днесь он ошейник,
Сдавивший шею
Души. Спеши
Понять сей Ад —
Тогда не гад.




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



Врут и Запад, и Восток.
Сей мирок — в отстойник сток.
Раб в Неведеньи убог,
А Рогатый Бог жесток.




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



Гордость строем боевым,
Ум в котором столь! гнобим,
Что "ау!" кричать пора.
Отзывается нора...
Ум по норам — приговором.
Чернь нагнута диким вздором —
Под откос пошёл мирок.
Впрочем, похуй, главным — прок.




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



Котлета на столе,
И водка ждёт в стакане.
Родился коль в Говне,
Убогий быт не ранит.




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



Жлобский "рай"

Напиваясь до усрачки,
Ум отдавши на прокачку,
Коль купил в Бедламе тачку —
Человек. Найди заначку
И так дальше продолжай —
Недолюди,  жлобский "рай".




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



Киска близко,
Дуб далёк.
Если в целом,
Нормалёк
ЖизДнь поэта
В захолустьи —
Меньше бреда,
Больше грусти.




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



Up Shit's Creek

Up Shit's Creek the world is dreary,
Cold and rotten, bleak and weary.
There's your flat and there's your trade
For the fools and freaks they've made.

Few are left who aren't deformed,
So the Earth has been transformed.
I despise the crawling vermin—
Life beneath them is determined.

Yet my fear begins to fade:
Doom won't keep us long delayed.
Sunlight burns a little stronger,
While the world grows worse and wronger.

Day by day it's meaner, duller,
Chasing "Happiness"—no fuller—
Crawling to it on its knees.
Spirit, pardon such disease!

Sweep the filth from every street!
Save the ones who won't retreat.
Evil circles, ages turn—
Still a few refuse to burn.

Mind and Spirit, standing fast
While the vulgar demons last.
Stop your struggles with the show—
Madness is the world below.

Only inward lies the Real,
Only there the Light I feel.
All old threats are worn and hollow—
Now the harvest comes to follow:

Vegetable next to vegetable,
Marching Hellward, interchangeable.
If you're not one of the swine,
Seek the Source, the truth divine.

Leave this Hellhole, dark and deep—
Climb out of this Shit's Creek.



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



In the Pit

The world's back end is bleak and bare;
My home and work are hidden there.
A realm for fools and twisted minds,
For crawling beasts of every kind.
The decent few are hard to find—
No wonder Earth has gone blind.

How I loathe the vermin swarm!
They make existence dull and worn.
Yet fear grows weaker day by day:
The final crash is on its way.
The sunlight burns with fiercer glow,
While evil drags the world below.

Each day it's meaner, duller still,
Yet madness justifies its will:
It calls its cravings "joy" and "light"
And crawls on knees toward its delight.
Forgive us, Spirit! We must rise
And sweep corruption from our eyes.

Save the spark that darkness spares,
The single flame still burning there.
Evil circles, round and round,
But Mind and Soul remain unbound
Among the servants Hell has bred,
Among the living, walking dead.

Stop wasting strength on outward strife—
The world's a fever-dream of life.
Within alone are Truth and Light;
There shines the beacon through the night.
The threats are relics, empty noise,
Old illusions, broken toys.

Now comes the harvest of decay:
One vegetable leads the way
To yet another newborn Hell.
If you're no fiend beneath the spell,
Then seek the Source, the primal Hope,
And leave behind Hell's filthy hole.



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



The “Growth” and Stench of Fascist Rule

The regime “blooms.”
The idiot fumes,
Waiting for the stench to rise—
Then the media sprays the flies.

The freak cries out,
Swallowing doubt.
One answer still remains in sight,
One answer to the regime:

“NO!!!”



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



East Lies, West Lies

East lies, and West lies too—
Everywhere the lies accrue.
This poor world’s a dumping bog,
Man’s a slave to darkened fog.

Blind in ignorance, he crawls,
While the Horned God rules and lords.
Cruel the master, bleak the lot—
Truth is buried, fear is taught.



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



Gargoyles Bent, or Flags Afloat?

Were gargoyles bent low,
Or did the banners flow?
We drowned in fear and lies—
And “Ideas” were the worst disguise.



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



Proud in Battle Formation

Proud in ranks, they march in line,
While their minds are crushed like mine.
So oppressed, the mind must call:
“Hey! Is anybody there at all?”

Echo answers from the hole—
There, they’ve buried mind and soul.
Brains in burrows: that’s the law;
Fools bow down to fear and awe.

The mob is bent by savage lies;
Down the slope their little world flies.
But who the hell cares where it goes?
The main thing is—the profit grows!



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



Pull Something Else from Your Pants...

“I pull something from my pants...”
— V. Mayakovsky


A passport for a fool in hand:
You get it—and you're at command.
Bend your back and haul the pack,
Work till death, and don't look back.

Then comes the filthy Ausweis:
For the vermin, you're a device.
A number, stamped and classified—
A useful thing, then cast aside.



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



“A Worthy Mayor!”

“A worthy mayor!”
What an absurd fantasy!
“Put the wise in the presidency!”
And other grand decrees:

“Send decent men to Parliament!”
“Track every budget cent!”
“Make every thief repent!”
Oh, what a torrent of nonsense—
Yet not a trace of it exists
In the world beyond the rhetoric.

“Make all the crooks stand trial!”
Why, that sounds like the old Soviet style—
A paradise of noise and guile,
Where bullshit travels every mile.

From every screen and every press,
The sewage pours in endless streams;
It floods the minds of fools and drones,
And feeds them counterfeit dreams.

Nothing changes fools, it seems:
They swallow nonsense, serve the schemes,
While dreaming of their daily bread,
Of something warm, of something ahead.

This little world is foul indeed:
The mind is unplugged, the Spirit bleeds.
And everywhere, from end to end,
A freight-train load of shit is sent.



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



The Only Theme

At the Bottom, in the Shit,
Money rules the whole damn pit.
From outside, deep within—
Only “No” is found therein.

Do not lie,
Do not betray.
Seek the Real,
Seek the Light,
Save yourself,
And find your way.

At the Bottom, in the Shit,
Light is worthless in the pit.
Shit becomes a waking dream—
Nightmare reigns supreme.

It drives the Spirit out,
Puts the mind to sleep, no doubt,
Bends the brain to mindless chew—
Same old crap, again and through.

At the Bottom, in the Shit,
Reality has lost its grip.
Nothing new is allowed to grow—
Praise the ugliness they show.

Ugliness from wall to wall,
People crawling like a louse.
“Leave me be! Don't touch me!”—
That's the creed within this house.

At the Bottom, in the Shit,
“Caring” fills the place a bit.
CowID—what a shining pearl!
Till it reaches every throat.

At the Bottom, war is gold.
Always bought, and always sold.
Stupid rabble, trust the chief!
Follow orders, mock belief!

They will drive you into war,
While the media screams some more.
Death in crowds? Well, that's just fine—
“Better them than you or mine.”

At the Bottom, in the Shit,
Staying sane is quite a feat.
But the Light is not without—
Let the vermin scream and shout.

Let them lie and spread their rot;
Build a wall around your thought.
Save your Mind and Spirit still:
Send the lies straight where they will.

Send away the nagging noise,
Fear that poisons, empty voice.
That is your task—so multiply
Every effort, do or die.

Cast this rotten world away!
Take yourself back, day by day.
Then, within the madhouse gloom,
Find the door and leave the tomb.

In the Darkness minds are blind;
We are lost in noise and grind.
Worse than plague, the deepest curse:
To be blind when Light is near.

Blind to Light, the world looks mad;
At the Bottom, all is bad.
This whole world—a shadowed crypt,
Where lies are bread and truth is stripped.

At the Bottom, in the Shit,
Only one bright ray is fit.
Follow that ray to the Source—
Though the clouds obscure its course.

Rise along that slender beam,
Find the Key to Soul and Dream!
Pay the price—and then be gone,
Fly beyond the dusk of dawn...

Pay it all, to everyone—
Then the themes are finally done.
Nothing left to add or say.
Only Light. And walk away.



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



The Greedy “Paradise”

Drink yourself completely flat,
Give your brains a little “upgrade” at that.
If you bought a car in Bedlam—what a catch!
Find your hidden stash and spend the batch.

Keep it going, day by day—
That’s how human trash gets made:
A half-human, greedy “paradise,”
Where empty heads call crap “a life so nice.”



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



Pussy Near, Oak Far Away

The pussy's near,
The oak's away.
All things considered—
Not bad today.

A poet's life
In some backwater place:
Less bullshit to swallow,
More sorrow to face.



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



Sea Kitties

Sea kitties, bold and bright—
“Brave” as fools who cannot fight.
Common pussycats, calm and wise,
Used to seeing through disguise.

They'd beat the seals by far—
No flinching, no deceit, no fear.
When Truth comes staring eye to eye,
They don't bullshit. They don't lie.



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



Born in Shit

A cutlet on the plate,
A vodka glass awaits.
If you were born in shit,
A shabby life won’t grate.



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



Masters of Fear and Whores of Propaganda

Master of Fear, magician grim,
The gallows-world is known to him.
To fools he feeds absurdities
With such a flair and such great ease—

As pissing down two fingers wide:
No skill, no thought, no need to hide.
A frightened world, a false idol,
Its “comfort” in the Dark eternal.

The free cheese rots on every plate;
Fear is the finest tool of state.
To leave the mind with one command:
“Survive!”—and nothing else at hand.

A couple of fake ideas,
A handful more to feed the fears.
Some “ideas” drive the fools insane;
The Dark has plenty who remain—

The whores who serve the one design:
Turn human beings into swine.
And make it happen FAST—indeed:
CowID showed how to do the deed.

The Wizard rose, with every trick,
From fear-mongering—Master quick.



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



The Slave’s Collar and the World’s Sewer

The fool won’t wait—
Darkness dictates
And pulls the leash
Toward the great sewage.

The mind, once prized,
Is now devised
As a collar tight
Around the soul’s plight.

Hurry—wake up!
Look at this Hell.
Understand it well,
And break the spell.

See what you are,
See where they lead.
Know this abyss—
And don’t become shit.



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



To Hell with Believing

To hell with believing and blindly obeying,
Chasing “happiness” where fools keep decaying.
Keep running that road, and one day you may find
You’re waking in Hell with your eyes open wide.




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



The Reality of Shit

A mirage called “real”—
In Lies, this world has lost its feel.
A shabby little world of fear,
Where cheese and mousetraps both appear.

A lure, a shiny little bait,
A brand-new trinket at the gate.
“Great ideas”? Just empty crap—
Soul-crushing schemes inside the trap.

Play the march! Let trumpets roar!
We feast on vermin by the score.
The Earth’s become a prison pit—
A REAL OF SHIT.



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



The Gray Mass

Gray mass, gray haze—
Slave labor, cash,
Lies for a gloss—
A biomass of evil.



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



The Gray Mass

Gray mass, gray class—
Slave labor, cash,
Lies as a mask—
Evil’s biomass.



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



Salvation in Shit

He went to Nepal—
And vanished without a trail.
Not mountains, but the pit:
What saves you? — Shit!



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



Assholes Like Plugs

Assholes like plugs,
Dumb, smug little thugs.
Those bastards exhaust—
They’re nauseating, not lost.



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



A Shameful Fucking World

A fucking world of shame and blame,
Where noble beginnings end in flame.
Filth comes roaring, full of spite,
While lies and fear infest the night.



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



Assholes as Obstacles

Assholes stand like walls of stone,
A mass of damage, flesh and bone.
They drain your nerves, they drain your will—
A fucking idiot’s worse than ill.

A fat ass blocks the office chair,
While two rear exits wait down there:
One mouth to enter, one ass to leave—
The chair’s a throne for fools who grieve.

Propaganda ghouls all thrive,
Feeding the lie to keep it alive.
No dawn can pierce this endless gloom—
No sunrise shines through piles of doom.



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



The Officials’ Gang, or the Many-Headed Hydra

Semyon is strong—
He seized the throne:
With nonsense for law,
He rules from his own.

Above him stands
A demon god,
And Panteley—
More cruel, more odd.

But Frol is worse,
For he commands;
Through bribes he thrives,
And climbs the ranks.

He carries gifts
Up to the top,
And waits for some
High chiefdom’s lot.

In Darkness, heads
Are never few—
A demon Hydra,
Black and cruel.

A howling pack
Of Evil’s brood,
Spreads strife and ruin,
Feasts on thought.

Darkness attacks
The human mind—
A Hell of fools,
Of souls confined.

Amid the shit
The soulless clerks
Turn every sane
Man into wrecks.

A prison cell,
A beggar’s fate,
Awaits the wise
Who dare to state

A single thought.
The rabble’s aim:
Turn all mankind
To obedient game.

Then crush them all—
That is the plan.
The Hydra’s heads
Devour the man.

The officials’ gang
Plays the chief role;
The Digital Camp
Awaits the whole.

They’ll herd the cattle,
Drive them in—
Just wait a little
In this grim

And wretched world,
Beneath the yoke:
Endure the evil,
Chew and choke...



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



The Bureaucrat

Semyon is strong—
He grabbed the chair:
Nonsense is law,
And fools obey there.

Above him—a fiend,
And Panteley:
The higher he climbs,
The worse he’ll be.







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



Не по фени ботать
И не "правду" кнокать,
Также не работать,
Не мечтать, не ждать —
Вирши сочинять,
Чтобы не страдать.
ЖизДнь без них — страдание:
Ложь, Муть, Жуть — заклание...




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



Скука-мука псевдожизни.
Коль не сука, Ярью брызни!
Не поймут под солью слизни —
"Вдаль" идут, в пути помрут.
То исторьей назовут:
Лжеучёный — баламут.



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



В конце Зимы нет трын-травы.
В тоске "умы". "Поэты" мы —
Посадим сад из слов, и гад-
Читатель рад — прям Зоосад.




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



Течёт река Волга.
Крепят МАРАЗМ долго.
Река впадёт в Каспий.
МАРАЗМ уйдёт в "счастье".




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



Без тернового венца

Мера веры, подчиненья,
Чуши, страхов, разложенья
Изменяется в веках.
Тьма оставит в дураках,
Превращая Душу в прах,
При любых раскладах. Гады
"Новшествам" БЕЗУМНО рады.
"Господа" сейчас, "комрады"
В прошлом. Страны-зоосады
Опрокинуты _говнидом
Были — мало кто не гнида.
_Прекратился вмиг — война
Тоже способ тварей Дна
Проверять и опускать:
"Ближних" может убивать
Лишь больной. Но СМРАДов вой
"Нормой" сделает любое —
Даже нечто голубое.
Мера веры, подчиненья,
Чуши, страхов, разложенья
Днесь в зашкале — поколенья
Завершают в Мерзость путь:
Дале Лагерь — Ложь, Муть, Жуть.
Лагерь новый, цифровой
Для ущербных головой,
Неприступный — мировой.
С Мерзостью вступая в бой,
Сохраняешь Душу. Стой
До конца, и без "венца" —
Украшения лжеца.
Сплошь "идеями" война —
С ними мы достигли Дна.
Яро_Слово возрождай —
Ложь повсюду обличай.
Пусть эффект обычный пшик,
Без венца увидишь Лик
(Первозданный образ свой),
Противленья Злу герой.




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



Тупо, грубо, беспардонно
ТВАРИ гонят мегатонны
Лжи тотальной боевой
С Разумом в последний бой.
Оставаться в Тьме собой
Трудно — доконал чернь СМРАДов вой.




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



Самопорождающийся цикл

Ребёнок с пелёнок
В толпе мудозвонов.
Защитный слой тонок
В Сознаньи — подонок
Иль пошлый дурак,
Раб Страха и Врак,
Обычно предстанет —
На Дно Чутких тянет.




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



Большое котячее счастье —
Лишь люди в том счастье ненастье:
"Хозяин" не сможет напасти
Все схлопнуть, коль кот чёрной масти
И ходит во дв`ора все части.
Котяра мой ныне — тигровый,
Во двор, в дом — поел, и по-новой.
И сердце щемит от тоски:
Опасности сплошь — ДУРАКИ!..




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



Строй — на бумаге, фашизм — в сердцах

Не _строй — толпой
Всегда гнобим:
_Бумажный! Вой
Злых СМРАДов — дым,
Коль не ведутся —
Прозрев, очнутся_:
То миф_ — В Тьме гнуться
Судьба уродца.





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



"Защита" недоотечества

После намордников в атаку
Иль в оборону не пойду:
И там, и там ублюдков Враки —
Мирок находится в Бреду.




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



"Смысл" псевдожизни

— В жизДни смысл есть? Обоснуй!
— С гулькин нос, нет! — с гулькин ***!!!
Жри баланду — не психуй:
Кости — Ложь, а Страх — водица.
В Аде не к чему стремиться —
Всё иное дурням мнится.




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



Губозавёртыватель с детства
Храни как главный инструмент:
В продажном мире ты лишь средство.
Иначе — "образумит" мент.




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



Without the Crown of Thorns

The measure of belief, submission,
Fear, decay, and superstition
Changes as the ages turn.
Darkness fools us, makes us learn
How to let the Soul be burned,
Crushed to dust by every scheme.
Scoundrels cheer the “New” regime.

“Lords” today, “comrades” then—
Different masks, the same old men.
Countries turned to zoos of doom,
Overthrown by CowID’s gloom.
Those were days when few were clean—
Most were scoundrels on the scene.

Then the war was stopped at once—
Another trick of Hell’s advance:
The way the creatures of the Pit
Test the weak and bury it.
“Only sick men kill their kin”—
Yet the media’s roaring din
Will make “normal” out of all,
Even what should shock us all.

The measure of belief, submission,
Fear, decay, and superstition
Now has gone beyond the scale.
Generation after generation
Finishes the road to degradation.
What comes next? The Digital Camp—
Lies and terror, murk and damp.

A brand-new Camp, a digital cage
For minds crippled by the age—
Worldwide, sealed and fortress-strong,
Built for those who’ve followed wrong.
Fight against the spreading blight:
Guard your Soul with all your might.

Stand your ground and to the end—
No false crown for you, my friend:
No “holy” wreath, no liar’s crown,
No borrowed glory handed down.

War is waged with “ideas” now—
And with them we have reached the low.
Raise the Word, let Truth revive;
Expose each lie that stays alive.

Maybe all you do seems small,
Maybe it’s a drop—that’s all.
Still, without the crown, you’ll see
The Face of what you used to be—
Your primordial, living form,
The Soul that rose before the storm.

Stand against the Evil’s reign:
Keep the Light alive through pain.



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



A Cat’s Great Happiness

A cat’s great joy is bright and sweet—
But human beings spoil the treat.
No “master” can come rushing in,
Or shut the whole world down for him,
When black as night he roams around
And claims the whole backyard as ground.

My tiger-striped tomcat today
Goes out, comes in, then goes away.
He eats his fill, then out once more—
Through yard and garden, door to door.
And still my heart is gripped with pain:
For dangers lurk in every lane—

A sea of fools! A world gone mad!
And every fool’s a danger, bad.



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



At Winter’s End

At Winter’s end, there’s no green grass,
Our gloomy minds just sigh and pass.
We “poets” plant a garden—words,
Where every verse grows beasts and birds.
And readers cheer, delighted too:
A perfect garden—
A perfect zoo!



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



Learn to Bite Your Tongue

Learn from childhood, keep it near—
That handy skill to hold your fear.
In this corrupt and crooked land,
You’re just a tool at someone’s hand.
Forget to keep your mouth in check—
The cops will teach you what comes next.



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



“Defense” of a Half-Fatherland

After the muzzles, I won’t go
To charge—or stand and “guard” the show.
On either side, the bastards lie:
Their world is drunk on its own lie.



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



To Rhyme, Not Rot

No slang to spout,
No “truth” to shout,
No work to slave,
No dreams to crave,
No waiting round—
Just write my verse
To dodge the curse.

For life without rhyme
Is suffering all the time:
Lies, murk, and fright—
A slaughterhouse night.



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



The Self-Generating Cycle

A child from the cradle,
In a crowd foul and fabled.
His shield is too thin—
The rot settles in.

A bastard, a fool,
Soon submits to the rule:
A slave to fear,
To lies ringing near.

And once he is broken,
The pattern is spoken:
He drags down the tender,
The sensitive, slender—

Down into the mire,
Into lies, fear, and fire.
Thus each ruined soul
Helps the next lose control.



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



Boredom, Torment, Pseudo-Life

Boredom and torment—this fake life!
If you’re no bitch, then blaze and bite!
The slugs won’t understand your flame;
They crawl ahead, then die the same.

They’ll call that journey “History,”
A grand and glorious mystery—
While some fake scholar, smug and sly,
Will twist the truth and tell you why.



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



The “Meaning” of Pseudo-Life

— Is there a meaning to this life?
— Not a bit. Not worth a dime!
— Eat your gruel and don’t ask why:
Bones are Lies, and Fear is thin.

In this Hell, there’s nothing to win—
Nothing worth the striving, none.
Everything else is what fools dream:
They call the darkness something else.



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



Order on Paper, Fascism in Hearts

Order on paper, fascism in hearts—
Not “order” built by marching crowds.
We always crush those who resist:
Paper! The howl! The media’s mist!

When they refuse to swallow lies,
When suddenly they wake and rise,
We brand their waking as a myth—
Their fate is still to bend beneath.



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



The Volga Flows

The Volga flows along.
They prop the MADNESS strong.
The river reaches Caspian blue—
The MADNESS finds “happiness” too.



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



Megatons of Lies

Bluntly, roughly, without shame,
These beasts unleash a megaton rain—
Megatons of combat lies,
Waging war on Reason’s eyes.

To remain yourself in the Dark
Is hard when the media dogs bark.
Their filthy howl, their endless din—
Leaves little room for Truth within.







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



Шагреневая кожа и Непривязанный Ум

Мосье Бальзак,
Без кож — бардак:
Пошёл дурак
Вразнос. Не так
Устроен Ум —
Отдай без сумм
Учёта => квота
Тогда огромна —
Что взять с "бездомных"?!



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



"Родина"-уродина —
Скопище говна.
Грош тебе цена
В Лжи, в Маразме Дна.
Дном днесь целый мир —
"Здравие" кумир
(Плюс шмурдяк, намордник);
Войны. "Второгодник"
Чушь вновь повторяет
И во Тьме лажает —
Разум добивает.




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



Путь, кот и идиот

Прибился кот.
Он ласки ждёт.
Затем лишь — корм.
А идиот
Чрез Чуши шторм
За мздою прёт:
МАРАЗМ — прикорм.
Гаввах — в прокорм:
Мы пища Зла;
ЖизДнь — путь Осла.
Духовный путь:
Отринь Муть-Жуть,
Исток ищи,
Иль не взыщи —
Поглотит Тьма
Средь Лжи Дерьма.


Вариант третьей строки.
Лишь после — корм.




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



Шмурдяк в барановирус

Тощий гриф клюёт добычу.
Мертвечина как обычай.
Гриф — ТВАРЬЁ. Мертвяк — дурак.
Индикатор Зла — шмурдяк:
Обкололи дураков —
Провели всех мертвяков.




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



Говноеды ждут "победы"
В Чуши, Бреда накопленьи,
В Страхе, Лжи и Разложеньи.
Повторенье в поколеньях
"Возрожденья" на... коленях.
Даже втюхают вставанье
Посреди Фашистской Срани
С них — и вновь проглотит псих
Чушь голимую, терпимую
Только дурки пациентом
Или в Срани экскрементом.




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



В Последний Круг

Белке стрелка не нужна —
В Колесе бежит она.
Не нужны Ум, Честь, Явь, Дух
В Круге Энном Ада слуг.
Слуги Ада — это мы,
Псевдо-страны как круги.
Ад — Земля. Исхода нет —
Чушь, Ложь, Страх, Голимый Бред
Захлестнули и согнули,
В белок дурней превратили.
Нет скончанья кутерьме
В СМРАДов вони и в дерьме
Уложений лже-законов
Для гнобленья мудозвонов.
Много всяческих препонов,
Мелочовка доконала,
Ведь её весьма немало.
Белке стрелка не нужна —
В Колесе бежит она.
Не нужны Ум, Честь, Явь, Дух —
Средь препонов дурень глух,
Слеп и нем: паскудный мем
Заменяет мысль, а страх
Лучше компаса Впотьмах.
Уплотняется Дерьмо,
Режет глаз Вонизм, и чмо
Опускается всё ниже —
Круг Последний много ближе.
Круг тот вовсе не "страна",
Это то, что ниже Дна —
Новый лагерь цифровой
Ждёт ущербных головой
"Граждан" зверских псевдо-стран.
Уж не белка, а баран
"Гражданин", а пан — варан,
Зверь Комодский. Идиотский
Мир к Падению готов —
Будет знатным Тьмы улов.
Белке стрелка не нужна —
В Колесе бежит она.
Не нужны Ум, Честь, Явь, Дух
Баранью в Последний Круг.



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



Мораль господ, мораль рабов —
Везде забвение Основ,
Приукрашение оков.
И то, и то — для дураков.

Основы — Явь и Дух, они
Не в рабском мире, а Внутри.
Похерив мир, в себе узри
Их — не видать мирку Зари.




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



Не ТВАРИ в ответе
За Хлевы и Клети —
Тупые рабы,
Уёбки "судьбы".




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



Стоп-кран сорвало: Поезд Зла
Летит в овраг. Сгорит дотла.
Иначе не могло и быть —
Нельзя без пауз Дух гнобить.




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



Группа Пу, она же Му,
Поклонения Дерьму,
Невозможности Уму,
Духу опрокинуть Тьму.
 




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



Into the Final Circle

A squirrel needs no arrow’s sign—
It runs forever on the line.
No Mind, no Honor, Truth, or Soul
Are needed in Hell’s numbered hole.
Hell’s servants? That is what we are,
While pseudo-states spin round like tar.
Hell is Earth. There is no escape—
Just Lies and Fear in every shape.

Nonsense floods us, bends and drowns,
And turns bright minds to foolish clowns.
The rotten stench of media,
The dung of false laws, every day—
New rules and orders, lies on lies,
To keep the brainless pacified.
A thousand petty walls arise,
A thousand traps in small disguise.
The little things become the chains—
Their endless swarm destroys the brains.

A squirrel needs no arrow’s sign—
It runs forever on the line.
No Mind, no Honor, Truth, or Soul—
The fool is deaf inside the Hole.
Blind, mute, he follows every meme;
A filthy slogan kills the dream.
And Fear, when everything is black,
Becomes the compass on his track.

The Dung grows thicker, foul and wide;
The Stench cuts through from every side.
And lower still the human slime
Descends toward its appointed time.
The Final Circle draws more near—
The very bottom waits down here.

That Circle is no "country" known;
It lies beneath the deepest stone.
The New Digital Camp stands ready
For broken heads and minds unsteady—
For "citizens" of beastly lands,
Controlled by invisible commands.

No longer squirrels upon the wheel—
Now sheep who neither think nor feel.
The "citizen" becomes a ram,
While every lord becomes a scam—
A Komodo, cold and grim,
With reptile eyes and serpent grin.

This idiotic world prepares
To fall through every last of its layers.
The Darkness spreads its waiting snare—
And finds its finest harvest there.

A squirrel needs no arrow’s sign—
It runs forever on the line.
No Mind, no Honor, Truth, or Soul—
Just sheep stampeding to the Final Hole.



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



The Shit-Eaters Await “Victory”

The shit-eaters wait for “Victory,”
Swimming deep in fools’ absurdity,
In Fear and Lies, in moral rot,
In all the garbage they have got.

From age to age they kneel and cry,
“Rebirth!” beneath a fascist sky.
They’ll even sell them “rising” tall
While fascist filth devours them all.

And once again the mental wreck
Will swallow every load of crap—
The kind that only madmen bear,
Or turds can stomach in a lair.

They’ll call it “truth,” they’ll call it “light,”
They’ll call the darkest dung “the right.”
And generation after generation
Will praise the same degeneration.



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



The Pu Group — Also Mu

The Pu Group — or simply Mu,
In worship of the rotten goo,
Where Mind itself is barred from view,
And Spirit cannot pierce the Dark through.



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



Pu — or Mu

The Pu Group — also Mu,
Bows to every heap of goo;
Mind is banned from breaking through,
Spirit’s chained and Darkness rules.



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



The Morals of Lords, the Morals of Slaves

The morals of lords, the morals of slaves—
All bury the First Principles in graves,
Then gild the chains and praise the flaws.
Both serve the fools, both serve the cause.

The First Principles: Truth and Soul—
They dwell within, beyond control.
Forget the world; look deep inside:
There Truth and Spirit still abide.

But while you seek them in the night,
This little world shall miss the Light.



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



Not Creatures, in Reply

For sties and cages—
You’re dumb, chained slaves,
You worthless fucks,
The bastards of luck.



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



No Answer, Beasts

For sties and cages—
You dull-minded slaves,
You miserable freaks,
That Fate itself breeds.



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



The Cat, the Fool, the Way

A stray cat came.
He wants your touch,
Then food—no more,
He needs not much.

The idiot, though,
Through storms of lies
Keeps chasing pay,
With empty eyes.
Madness is bait,
Delusion’s feed—
A feast for fools
Who never heed.

Gavvakh feeds evil,
Day by day:
We are its food,
The ass’s way.

The spiritual path
Demands you see:
Reject the muck,
The fear, the lie.
Seek the Source
Or never cry—
For Darkness waits
Where falsehood thrives,
And dung of lies
Devours our lives.



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



“Motherland” — Mother-Scar

“Motherland”—Mother-scar,
A cesspool from near and far.
Worth a penny, maybe less,
In the Bottom’s Lie and mess.

Now the whole world’s sunk below—
“Health” the idol, masks in row,
Cheap booze, muzzles, endless war;
“Second-grader” chants once more
Ancient bullshit, stale and grim,
Stumbling blind through darkness dim—
Killing Reason, limb by limb.



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



The Train of Evil

The emergency brake has torn away—
The Train of Evil speeds to clay.
It hurtles straight into the flame,
To burn to ash—and that’s its fate.

It could not end another way:
You cannot crush the Spirit day by day
Without a pause, without restraint—
The soul will break, and Evil’s train will break.



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



The Chagrin Skin and the Unattached Mind

Monsieur Balzac—
No skin? What a mess!
The fool runs wild,
A mindless excess.

But Mind is not made
To be bound by a sum:
Give nothing, count nothing—
Let freedom become!

No quota, no debt,
No leash on the brain—
Then what can you take
From the homeless and sane?



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



Shmurdyak into the Ram-Virus

A gaunt vulture tears its prey,
Feasting on the dead each day.
Vulture—VERMIN. Corpse—a fool.
Shmurdyak marks Evil’s rule.

They jab the fools, then count the dead,
March the lifeless where they’re led.
Shmurdyak—Evil’s calling card:
A poisoned world, a graveyard yard.








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



"Думу" думает урод
Среди страха, лжи, невзгод.
Не пошёл, как встарь, "в народ":
Нет народа — мерзкий сброд. 




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



Кузница кадров:
Ушлая падла
Быстро "наверх".
Ник её "Стерх".
Если "Синица" —
"Стерха" возница.
Всюду подлоги —
"Люди" убоги.




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



Для стихов нет батраков —
Все повадились в царьки:
"Мысли" больно глубоки...
На поверку — ДУРАКИ...




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



Дно поэзии

По наклонной жизДнь пошла:
Путь "бандита" — не осла! —
Оборвался, в кода яму
Вмиг упал. Но то не драма:
Песни начал сочинять —
Опустился. И спасать
Поздно, ведь пошли стихи
Чередою. Не легки 
Дни поэта среди Бреда
Мирового, коль оковы
Лжи он станет обличать:
Ниже только — НАСТУЧАТЬ.



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



Спотыкач "культуры" в Свиноферме Мира

Стоножка шагом строевым
Вдруг озаботилась, а с ним
Задорной песней боевой —
Не дружит с детства с головой.
И спотыкач напал на дуру —
Он называется "культурой".
Таких метафор очень много
В мирке тлетворном и убогом.
Но самой страшной — свиноферма,
Не бережёшь коль больше нервы.
Откормом станет "воспитанье",
Проверкою — "образованье":
Свинья набрала впору веса —
В мирке не смыслит ни бельмеса.
Качать гаввах с неё не сложно —
Опять наври свинье безбожно,
И одурмань вновь страхом Хлев,
Тогда отравленный посев
Свободой хрюшкам будет мниться.
Окорм-убой веками длится.
Убой Души — гаввах ядрёней.
Коль смерть Ума, сидр ухищрённей,
А Свиноферма всё зловонней...




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



Чипированные

Смартфоном словно чипом с Ложью
Снабжен придурок — и несложно
Днесь стало ТВАРЯМ управлять:
Геолокацию снимать,
Вполне мобильно дурням врать.




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



Как ветер странствий выдувает остатки ума

"Странно ли, что тебе нет никакой пользы от странствий, если ты повсюду таскаешь самого себя?"
Сократ.


"Себя" таская по лже-странам,
Лишь отражение найдёшь
Того, что грезится баранам
Повсюду: чуть иной ****ёж

Не затушует ту картину,
Что мир — Загон Огромный. Тьма
Внушила, загнобив скотину,
"Разнообразие" — без Чести, Духа и Ума.




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



Архив спецслужб, ментов покажет
Такие! стороны Дерьма,
Что топит нас, что "внешний враже" —
Шалун песочницы. Сплошь Тьма...




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



Гуттаперчевые люди,
На шарнирах бюрократ.
Куклы пляшут, но на блюде.
Заправляет цирком Гад,
Жрать гаввах от кукол рад.




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



"Выживаньем" на закланье
Посреди Фашистской Срани:
Страх в душе, а ум бараний,
Наглой Ложью истязанье.
Перспективы никакие —
Столь! пугливые, тупые...




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



Манна Жоп

Одно Дерьмо ты видишь в жизДни,
А коль проверишь те слова,
Что впечатляли, то Фашизма
Найдёшь прикрытие. Молва

Слова разносит, искажая —
С пелёнок ты в объятьях Лжи.
Но обещают кущи рая
Покорным — только... Тьме служи.

Служенье Тьме во Лжи, в Дерьме
Судьбой иль жизнью назовут.
Раб пошлый, не в своём уме,
Поверит в это — грубо врут.

А умный, коль кругом Дерьмо,
Слова меняются, а строй
Вновь рабский, окруженье — чмо,
В зашкале Страх и СМРАДов вой,

Оценит всё, и перспектив
Он не увидит — никаких.
Земля — один большой нарыв,
А скальпель — Злу покорный псих.

И брызнет Гной, и он собой
Накроет всё — таков Потоп. 
Пока же плотною гурьбой
Бредут за Щастьем — Манной Жоп.




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



Кошачий фастфуд

На фастфуд подсевший кот —
И "хозяин" в страхе ждёт
Неприятностей больших:
В геноциде мир злой лих.
То коснулось и котов.
Не спасти и ДУРАКОВ...



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



Лжи зашкал — мирок пропал =>
Страха вал девятый —> пал...




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



Карусельная Ложь

Карусели канитель:
Для придурка словно трель
Ложь. С конвейера идёт —
Пипл убогий ньюса ждёт
И за "счастием" бредёт.
"Счастье" — в Лжи, и ****ежи
С небоскрёбы. Миражи
Сущность жизДни никакой.
"Скрепы" — Страх и СМРАДов вой.




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



The Secret Files

The secret files of cops and spies
Reveal such depths of filth and lies,
That all the “foe from foreign lands”
Seems like a child with toys in hand.
We drown in darkness, foul and deep—
No light, no dawn, no wake from sleep.



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



The Secret Files

The secret files of spies and cops
Reveal such filth, such sewer-drops,
That any “foe from foreign ground”
Seems like a sandbox brat around.
All darkness… darkness without end—
And Hell itself seems just a friend.



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



“Survival” on the Slaughter Block

“Survival” — their only creed,
In Fascist filth they rot and bleed.
Fear in hearts, and sheep for brains,
Brutal Lies become their chains.

No prospects, nowhere left to go—
So timid, stupid, bent and low.



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



Gutta-Percha People

Gutta-percha people sway,
A bureaucrat on hinges plays.
Puppets dance upon command,
While a Devil runs the band.
He feasts on all their cheap display—
And laughs as puppets waste away.



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



Gutta-Percha People

Gutta-percha folks on strings,
Bureaucrats with jointed wings.
Puppets dance upon the tray—
A Devil runs the circus play.
He gorges on their groans and acts,
And feeds on fools in cheap theatrics.



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



No Serfs for Poets

No serfs are meant for poets’ pens—
Yet all would rule as little kings.
Their “thoughts” are deep, or so they claim…
Look closer—FOOLS are all the same!



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



Poets Have No Serfs

No serfs for poets—none to spare;
Yet every fool would rule from there.
“Profound” their thoughts? They proudly croak…
Just test them out—they’re bloody yokels!



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



The Bottom of Poetry

Downhill my life began to slide—
The “bandit’s” road, not fool’s, went wide.
Then suddenly I hit the pit,
The coding pit—and sank in it.

But that was hardly cause for tears:
I started writing songs for years.
Then poems came, a steady stream—
Too late to save me from the dream.

A poet’s days are hard indeed
Amid the world’s delirious creed,
When Truth exposes chains of lies:
The only lower step—to snitch.




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



A Fool’s “Thought”

A wretch sits thinking, lost in fright,
Amidst the lies and endless night.
He won’t, as once, go to the crowd—
There is no people, just a mob.



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



How the Winds of Travel Blow the Last of Reason Away

“Is it any wonder that travel does you no good
if everywhere you go, you carry yourself along?”
— Socrates


You drag yourself through lands of lies,
And find the same reflection there
Of what each sheep beneath the skies
Dreams to be true — some fresh affair.

A different lie, a brighter scheme,
Can never change the final scene:
The world’s a vast and wretched pen,
Where darkness breeds its cattle-men.

It crushes Spirit, Honor, Mind,
Then calls the sameness “Diversity”—
And leaves the herd, both deaf and blind,
To graze in chains eternally.



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



Carousel of Lies

Round and round the carousel spins,
A lullaby for fools begins:
Lie after lie rolls off the line—
The wretched crowd awaits “news” time.

They chase the “happiness” ahead,
By every hollow promise led.
“Joy” is built from lies and schemes,
With skyscrapers of falsehoods’ dreams.

Mirages rise, then disappear—
No meaning waits behind them here.
The “sacred bonds” that hold the herd?
Fear—and the media’s endless word.



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



Cat Food Fast-Food

A cat hooked on fast-food fare
Leaves his “master” trembling there.
He fears some awful trouble’s due—
The world grows mad, and cats do too.

Genocide has touched them all,
No creature’s safe when madness calls.
Not even cats can dodge the trend—
And FOOLS? There’s no one left to mend.



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



The Cadre Forge

A crafty lowlife,
Sharp as a knife,
Climbs to the top—
Won’t ever stop.

His handle: “Stork.”
If “Tit” gives the word,
The “Stork” rides high—
And spreads his lie.

Fraud everywhere,
Fakes fill the air—
And the “people” below
Are wretched and low.



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



Lies Overflow — the World Is Gone;
The Ninth Wave of Fear Rolls On.



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



Manna from the Ass

You see just filth in daily life,
Yet check the words that once impressed—
Behind the pomp, behind the strife,
You’ll find Fascism, dressed as best.

Rumors twist the words they spread;
From childhood, Lies become your guide.
Yet promised are the fields ahead—
For those who serve the Dark inside.

To serve the Dark through filth and lies
Is called “your fate,” or “life,” or “choice.”
A vulgar slave, with vacant eyes,
Believes the lie because they voice.

But one who thinks, when all is shit,
Knows words may change, while chains remain;
The slave-built order, piece by bit,
Returns—and Fear and Media reign.

He weighs it all and sees no road,
No future anywhere in sight.
The Earth’s one giant festering sore—
The scalpel’s wielded by a wight.

The pus will burst, engulfing all—
A Flood of filth, a final drop.
Meanwhile, they march in one great throng,
Chasing their “happiness”: Manna from the Ass.



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



The “Culture” Tripwire in the World’s Pigsty

A centipede in marching stride
Suddenly swells with martial pride,
And belts a bold and battle song—
It’s had no sense since life began.

Then “culture” trips the stupid beast—
A stumbling block, a rotten feast.
Such metaphors abound and thrive
In this decrepit world alive.

But worst of all—the global sty,
Where frayed-out nerves just slowly die.
“Upbringing” turns to force-fed swill,
And “education” checks the fill:

The pig has reached its proper weight,
Yet knows no shit about its state.
It’s easy, then, to make it cheer:
Just lie to it and feed it fear.

Drug the whole pen, deceive the swine,
Pour poison into every mind—
And freedom, dreamed through smoke and dread,
Will seem like slop the pigs are fed.

For centuries the cycle rolls:
First fatten bodies, butcher souls.
Soul-slaughter makes the loudest cheer;
When Reason dies, the cider’s clear.

And still the Pigsty grows more foul—
A stinking monument to all
That passes for “culture” and “care,”
While empty heads just breathe its air.



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



Chipped

With smartphone-chips of Lies installed,
The fool is tracked at their command.
Today the Bastards find it easy
To steer the fools and keep them queasy:

To trace their every step and roam,
To track their whereabouts at home,
And feed them lies, both fast and slick—
All through the little glowing brick.







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



Морок, порох и шмурдяк —
Результат Тотальных Врак.
Деградация, Бардак
Цель и "смысл" всех Зла атак.




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



Уёбки навстречу,
Ушлёпки сплошь ждут —
Как Ада предтечи —
Потворствуя, врут.




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



Мыслить боятся
Больше, чем _Ада:
Может так статься —
В _нём ты, и ГАДОМ.




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



Пэ-Мэ-эР-ня

Пэ-Мэ-эР-ня — МАРАЗМ, ***ня.
Говно вонять и четверть дня
Не заслужило. Но дебилы
Гниют в Дерьме десятки лет:
Там "русский мир" — там Страх, Ложь, Бред.




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



Литературные сайты

Украинский сайт похуже,
Чем российские, хотя
Там "крамолы" нет. Что ж, друже,
Матом крыть низзя! НИЗЗЯ!!!

Но без мата в мире гадов —
Как без лжи в отраве СМРАДов.



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



Партизанская метафора

"Пущи" гуще. "Партизаны"
Как покорные бараны:
Завели детей, скотину —
Это "граждане"-кретины.




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



Венил не сгнил:
С цензурой плыл
В порты "Ништяк",
"Окей, дурак!".




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



"Страж" "порядка", л`охов грядка,
На "раскрытья" разнарядка.
На хабар ублюдок падкий.
В околотке мерзко-гадко.




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



Есть Право СУДИТЬ —
Единая Нить,
Иначе ты ТВАРЬ,
Пусть в Аде ты "царь".




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



Секрет "страны":
Рабы сильны
Тотальной Ложью —
Гнобить несложно...
Обрыдли рожи...



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



Живодёрня. Раб покорный
Превращается в скотину.
Поиск "счастия" упорный —
Гвоздь в мозги вбит всем кретинам.



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



Уёбищный мирок:
Служить ***НЕ зарок
Навязан дурням с детства.
В нём человек лишь средство.
Что ж, никуда не деться?
Творить — и тем согреться.
Искать — чрез Явь спасаться.
Мирок и Явь — антонимы.
"Народ", рабы — синонимы.




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



Умора:
"Мажоры"
В... Говне,
"Не на ДНЕ".
Мразь в цене...




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



Гадюшник бездушных,
Тупых и убогих.
— Где люди?! Удушье!!!
— Осталось немного...


Вариант последней строки.
— Их очень немного.
— Их стало немного.



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



Новый вид искусства — трубадуры-трубочисты

Трубадуры-
Трубочисты,
Нет культуры,
Мир нечистый.
Песнь для шкуры,
Гимн речистый —
Трубадурам.
Трубочистам —
Желчь в потоке
Слов-мелодий:
Нет искусства благородней.
Пусть труба метлою станет —
Часть Мерзоты в лету канет.




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



Мерзость — кучно,
Позже — тучно.
Единицы —
По темницам,
Иль в фантазиях — Явь мнится.



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



Адские песни и пляски

Мизантропы, в три притопа!
Песню Ада запевай! —
Заглушайте СМРАДов хай!!!
Песнь иссякла — наливай:
Ад презрением встречай!!!




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



Hellish Songs and Dances

Misanthropes — stomp three times!
Sing the songs of Hell tonight!
Drown the mass-media in noise —
Hail! Hail! Hail! — you hellish boys!
Song has dried? Then pour some more:
Greet the Hell you so abhor!



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




Misanthropes — three stomps! Hurrah!
Sing the song of Hell! Ha-ha!
Drown the media — HAIL! HAIL!
When the song runs dry — refill!
Raise your glass and sneer at Hell!



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



Vinyl Never Died

Vinyl lived —
Never grieved,
Sailed through censors,
Port by port:
“Pretty sweet!” —
“Okay, you fool!
What a feat!”



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



Vinyl

Vinyl — not spoiled,
Through censorship sailed,
To ports called “Not Bad!” —
“Okay, you fool!”



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




Vinyl stayed chill,
Never quite killed,
Past censors it sailed
To “Pretty Good!” ports:
“All right, you dumb fool!”



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



A Nest of the Soulless

A nest of the soulless,
The stupid, the low—
“Where are all the people?”
“Not many, you know…”



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



Where Are the People?

A snake-pit of fools,
Of the soulless and small—
“Where are all the people?”
“Few remain… if at all.”



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



The Right to Judge

There’s one Right to judge—
One thread, one true grudge;
Without it, you’re vile,
Though crowned king of Hell’s isle.



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



The Slaughterhouse

A slaughterhouse. The meek obey,
And slowly turn to beasts each day.
Their stubborn quest for “happiness”
Drives nails of madness through the brain.



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



The Slaughterhouse

A slaughterhouse — the willing slave
Turns into the beast they crave.
The endless hunt for “happiness”
Drives nails into each fool’s brain.



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



Literary Sites

Ukrainian sites are worse,
Than the Russian ones, my friend—
No “sedition”! What a curse!
Swearing? NO! It must not end!

Yet without a curse or two
In a world of filthy lies—
Like no poison in the brew
Poured by mass-media wise.



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



The Filth

Filth — in clusters,
Soon — it festers.
The few who dare
End up there—
Or dream their truth is everywhere.



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



The Filth

Filth — in hordes,
Then — in swarms.
Lone dissenters
Meet the jailers,
Or see Reality in dreamers.



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



Gloom, Gunpowder and Crap

Gloom, gunpowder, trash and crap—
The fruits of every Total Trap.
Degradation, chaos, rot—
The “goal” behind each Evil plot.



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



Gloom, Gunpowder, Shmurdyak

Gloom, gunpowder, Shmurdyak—
The end-result of lies gone black.
Degradation, sheer attack—
The “meaning” of all Evil’s knack.



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



Afraid to Think

They fear to think
More than they fear Hell:
For one may blink—
And find oneself there, as a fiend.



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



Afraid of Thought

They fear to think
More than Hell’s brink:
For it may be true—
Hell’s inside you.



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



A New Art Form — Troubadour Chimney-Sweeps

Troubadours—
Chimney-sweeps,
Culture? None—
The filth still creeps.
Songs for hides,
And hymns that roar—
That’s the art
They’re singing for.


To troubadours,
To chimney-sweeps—
Gall in every
Song they keep.
No art is nobler,
None more grand:
Let the chimney
Turn to broom—
And some of Filth
Will meet its doom!



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



Troubadour Chimney-Sweeps

Troubadours—
Chimney-sweeps!
No culture—
Filth just creeps.
Songs for skin,
And hymns that bite:
That’s their art,
Their grand delight!


Chimney-sweeps,
With bile for words,
Pouring poison
Through their chords.
Let the chimney
Turn to broom—
Sweep some Filth
Into its doom!



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



The Partisan Metaphor

The forests thick, the “partisans”
March like meek and mindless rams.
Raise their children, feed their kine—
“Citizens,” the great design!



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



Pe-Me-Er-Nya

Pe-Me-Er-Nya — pure lunacy,
A load of crap and idiocy!
Not even stench deserves a day,
Yet fools in filth for decades stay.


They rot away in muck and dread—
The “Russian World”: Fear, Lies, and Bred.



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




Pe-Me-Er-Nya — pure decay,
A load of crap in full display.
Not worth a stink for half a day—
Yet fools in filth for decades stay.

They rot in lies, in fear, in dread:
The “Russian World” — where madness spreads.



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



The Country’s Secret

The country’s secret:
Slaves grow strong
On lies so total—
Crush them? Not hard at all...
Those faces make me sick!



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



The Secret of the Land

The secret of the land:
Its slaves are strong
On Total Lies—
Oppress them? Easy!
Those faces sicken!



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



The “Guardian” of “Order”

“Guardian” of “order,” a garden of fools,
With quotas for “cracking” their suspects’ rules.
Greedy for kickbacks, the bastard goes harder—
The precinct reeks rotten, and nothing is darker.



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




“Guardian” of order—what a fraud!
A quota for arrests—how odd!
Greedy for bribes, the bastard’s game:
The precinct reeks of filth and shame.



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



A Godforsaken Little World

A godforsaken little world,
Where serving Crap is duty hurled
Upon the fools from childhood on.
Man is a tool — and then he’s gone.


So what — must we just take the blame?
Create, and warm your soul with flame.
Seek through Reality a way
To save yourself from the decay.


This little world and Truth oppose;
“People” and “slaves” — two matching names.



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



A Wretched Little World

A wretched little world of rot,
Where serving Bullshit is their lot,
Drilled into fools from childhood days.
Man is a means in all its ways.


So must we bow and just endure?
Create — and keep your spirit pure.
Seek Reality; escape the trance—
The world and Truth leave no romance.


“World” and “Truth” are opposites;
“People” and “slaves” — synonymous.



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



Harbingers of Hell

Scumbags come to meet you,
Low-lifes line the way—
Harbingers of Hell,
Welcoming decay.


They indulge the liars,
They dress falsehood as truth;
Harbingers of Hell,
Lies in every mouth.



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




Scumbags coming your way,
Low-lifes waiting in line—
Harbingers of Hell,
Who make lies seem divine.



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



What a Joke!

What a joke—
The “majors” choke
On piles of crap,
But “not the bottom”—
What a trap!


Scum’s in demand,
Scum’s highly prized—
That’s how the world
Gets “civilized.”



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




What a joke:
The “majors” choke
In their shit—
“Not the pit!”
Scum’s a hit!








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



Ненужность, натужность,
Безмерность страданья,
Ложь, страхи, бред, шкурность —
Не жизнь, а ЗАКЛАНЬЕ.




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



Космополиты чушью сыты,
А патриоты до блевоты
Обрыдли, ведь везде добиты
Лже-страны от ТВАРЬЯ "заботы" —
Говнид примером: лже-народы
Погрязли в Мерзости и Страхе,
А вместо мыслей охи-ахи.




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



"Патриоты"-ИДИОТЫ,
Видя "родины" "заботы",
Продолжают Чуши верить,
МЕРЗОСТИ открывши двери.




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



Долготерпение Зла

Перспективы — с гулькин ***,
Но терпенье обоснуй
Ахинеей из шаблонов,
Созданных для мудозвонов —
Для гнобленья идиотов
В школах, ВУЗах, на РАБОТАХ.




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



Не вразумить того, кто с детства
Считает, что силён, умён.
Силён в одном — как ТВАРЕЙ средство:
Толпой те гонят Разум вон.




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



Почти по Марксу

Искусством рабства "усиленье" —
России вечная стезя.
"Усилились" до РАЗЛОЖЕНЬЯ —
Уж пикнуть ВОПРЕКИ нельзя.




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



Псевдо-духовная братия

"Утончённости" "бездонность" —
В "высших сферах" царь иль крез.
ЧУТКИЙ чувствует ЗЛОВОННОСТЬ —
Без Ума и Духа без.




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



The Patience of Evil

Prospects? Tiny as a gnat,
Still, endure — and call it that:
Feed the fools with tired notions,
Stock clich;s and cheap emotions —
Made to keep the dullards tame,
In schools, at work, in halls of fame.



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



Cosmopolitans are stuffed with crap,
While patriots make me want to snap:
They’re sickening — and everywhere
Fake nations choke on “loving” care.
CowID shows the world’s disgrace:
Fake peoples drowning in Fear’s embrace,
While Thought gives way, in every head,
To moans and sighs instead.



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



You cannot teach the fool who’s sure
Since childhood he is wise and strong.
His only strength? To herd the herd —
And drive all Reason out with throng.



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



Futility, strain,
And suffering’s measureless pain,
Lies, fears, delirium, greed —
Not life, but a slaughter indeed.



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



“Patriots” — IDIOTS,
Blind to “homeland’s” loving plots,
Still they swallow every lie,
Letting Vileness waltz inside.



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



Almost Like Marx

The “art of bondage,” strengthened still —
Russia’s age-old, beaten track.
“Strengthened” till they rot from within —
And dare not even whisper back.