Не-закон, Un-Law

Личность — околичность,
Если Зла цикличность
Впечатляет з`ело:
К Свету путь несмелый.



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Пожирание эмоциями и чувствами Разума в Земном Аду

Оболванены и оболганы,
Но прикрыто всё ЧУВСТВОМ — "долга" ли,
"Справедливости" или прочего,
До Разумности в Тьме охочего.




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Объекты внимания — псевдо-реальность.
Его направляют, куда нужно Тьме.
Всегда управляет дурьём Инфернальность,
И мало кто в мире сём в здравом уме.




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Долбленье стен — народный спорт:
В устройстве норок он упёрт.
А то что разум в черни стёрт —
Фигня: всех мыслящих за борт!..




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Клизмы "измов" и всеобщий кретинизм

Алкоголизм и кретинизм,
Долготерпенье Зла, фашизм.
На ярлыках сплошь гуманизм
Как мимикрия. Новый "изм" —
Промывка мозга: много КЛИЗМ.




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Кот становится сильнее —
Позабыл, как был он хлипк.
Люди, что кругом, "важнее" :
В Ад_Шанс_Мизерный ты влип.



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Подорожание ****ятины —
Довольно мрачный экс-бандиту факт.
Хоть сторонился он тухлятины —
Напрасных жертв — подвёл его вновь  такт.



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Кучно бьют слова по цели —
Знатно мрази дурням мелют:
Получается "народ".
Мало кто в нём не урод.


Вариант. Лихо мрази дурням мелют:




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Не-закон

"Кто не обладает мужеством рискнуть жизнью для достижения своей свободы, тот заслуживает быть рабом".
Георг Гегель.


Гегель риск возвёл в закон —
Отменённый, так как он
Применим лишь к одиночками,
На народцах ставя точку...




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Новый Ку-клукс-клан


Ку-клукс-клан имеет план:
Сократить побольше белых,
В Лжи не видящих аркан,
Злу покорных и незрелых.



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Молчание поэта
Средь Страхов, Лжи и Бреда —
Не Мерзости победа:
Наверно, ПЕСНЯ спета...



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Wall-Banging — a People’s Sport

Wall-banging — the people’s sport,
Each builds a burrow, digs for fort.
That common sense is crushed to naught?
Who needs the thinkers — cast them out!



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Enemas of “-Isms” and Mass Idiocy

Alcoholism and idiotism,
Long-suffering evil, fascism.
“Humanism” shines on every prism—
A mask, a trick, a hollow ism.
Brainwashing comes: one more enema—
More “isms” pumped into the schema!



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The Cat Grows Stronger

The cat grows strong — no longer weak,
He’s forgotten frail days gone by.
But humans claim the “greater” peak:
You’re caught where Hell-chances die.



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The Cat Grows Stronger

The cat grows strong — forgets the weak;
His feeble past is out of sight.
But “humans” rule the world we seek—
You’re trapped where Hell has odds too slight!



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A Word Barrage

Words strike thick and hit their mark—
Scoundrels feed the fools their spark.
Thus a “people” comes about:
Few escape the ugly crowd.



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



Words Hit Home

Words come hammering in a swarm—
Scoundrels preach, and fools conform.
That’s how “the people” come to be:
Few in the herd are truly free.



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Personality — Periphery

Selfhood turns to mere absurdity
When Evil thrills by its cyclicity;
Yet through the darkness, faint and slow,
A timid path leads toward the Glow.



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The Poet’s Silence

The poet’s silence, still and deep,
Amid the Lies and Fears we keep—
Is not the Filth’s triumphant cry:
Perhaps the Song has passed us by…



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Un-Law

Hegel made risk a law of freedom—
Then quietly repealed the creed:
It works for those who stand alone,
But fails where crowds are made of stone.



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The New Ku Klux Klan

The Ku Klux Klan has hatched a plan:
To thin the Whites as best they can—
Those blind to lies, who miss the snare,
And bow to Evil everywhere.



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Objects of Attention

Objects of attention — a pseudo-reality,
Their gaze is steered wherever Darkness decrees.
Infernal forces rule the fools with finality,
While few in this world keep their minds truly free.



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Objects of Attention

Pseudo-reality captures the mind,
Darkness directs what the masses will see.
Hell rules the fools, who are easy to bind—
Few in this world are truly free.



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



Reason Devoured by Feeling in Earthly Hell

Duped and deceived, yet all is dressed
In “duty,” “justice,” “nobleness” at best.
By feelings blinded, minds obey—
While Reason fades in Hell’s own play.



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Reason Devoured by Feeling

They’re fooled, they’re lied to—yet emotions
Are draped as “duty,” “just” devotion.
“Justice” and such become the veil
That hides the Mind’s collapse in Hell.



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The Poet’s Madness

A poet’s madness may touch the Soul—
Then it is no harm: just let it roll.
In other words, there’s more “meaning” to find,
Yet dry as numbers, they wither the mind.

When Reason dries, the Spirit shrinks too;
Words turn to mockery, false and untrue.
But the Path is simple, if only you heed
The poet’s rhythm, the poet’s wild creed.

Like wedge against wedge, madness fights madness—
A cure for the world in its infinite badness.
A mad, mad world, mad from the very start:
If Reason is poor, yet the Spirit has heart,

Then your road is clear, and the answer is plain:
Leave this wild world, its horror and stain.
The Spiritual World has Rhythm—not sense,
And Resonance there needs no verbal defense.

No words there—numbers are phantoms of Night,
Darkness invents them to veil the true Light.
No mind-made barriers, no walls to transcend:
No-Mind joined with Spirit—the Super-Mind’s end.

No thoughts spoken aloud—they are feeble and small:
Through Resonance, vast Meaning answers the call.
On ANOTHER TURN, numbers lose all their might—
They crumble to shadows beyond thought and sight.

Seek the Source! All else is error and heresy.
That is the Path’s final certainty.
Trust the spark of the God that dwells within,
And through Inner Light let the journey begin.

The Path is complete—and another unfolds:
Forget this Hell, its Lies, its Mists, its Folds.
Step out of the darkness, leave falsehood behind—
And enter the New Path, beyond the Mind.



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The Rising Price of Trash

The rising price of fucking crap—
A grim ex-bandit’s bitter fact.
Though he had shunned the rotten lot,
His rhythm failed him—once again caught.



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The Price of Filth Goes Up

The price of fucking filth goes high—
A grim fact no ex-bandit can deny.
He kept away from rotten acts,
Yet once again his rhythm cracked.








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