Незаконное потребление наркотических средств, психотропных веществ и их аналогов причиняет вред здоровью, их незаконный оборот запрещен и влечет установленную законодательством ответственность.

Игорь Выхованец, стихи 23501-24000

Игорь Выхованец

Игорь Выхованец, стихи: 23501-24000

В шоколаде и в... ограде:
Во Всемирном Зоосаде
Если ценишь "шоколад",
Ты тогда продажный гад.

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

Ваня, Маня — "пан" и "пани"...
Посреди Фашистской Срани.
Одевают сплошь личины
Дурочки и дурачины.

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

Кура хмуро смотрит в суп.
Деньги видит полутруп.
Та и этот только пища.
Только разные там ДНИЩА.

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Своя рубаха ближе к телу

Козни Розни: разделяй —
Глупым миром управляй.
Не очнутся дурачины —
"Веские" найдут "причины"
Оставаться в Лжи и Страхе,
Долг отдав своей рубахе.
Ближе к телу — это дело!:
Мразь использует умело
Шкурность, пошлость и МАРАЗМ —
Исполняется приказ
Даже самый дикий: чернь
Хуже чем в загоне зверь.

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

The Collapse of “Foundations”

The fall of so-called “foundations,”
Rules for foolish generations,
That prop up goat-like rule and throne
More tightly than deceitful stone.

A task is set. And you must see:
Ignore it—and all lies will be
A swamp of rot, a living stain,
For in command stands not the vain,

But something worse—inhuman will.
So drop your pride, your fears, stand still:
Search, struggle, choose the clearer way,
And save your soul from night’s decay.

The TRUE FOUNDATION—Spirit pure.
To servants of the dark, no cure:
It strikes more fear than death itself,
And drives their doubts from mental shelf,

It clears the mind, reduces lies
To dust where all deception dies.
It strips the Evil bare and whole—
A dangerous light that burns the soul.

If you have grasped what this may mean,
You will not serve the filth obscene.
You’ll seek companions, few but true—
Not kneel to all that’s false and due.

But if you wait for some to come
From darkness, saving “the dumb ones,”
Then you are mad beyond repair—
A mind dissolved in stagnant air.

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

Breaking the False Foundations

The breaking of “foundations” old—
False codes that keep the foolish told,
That hold the goat-like rulers high
With knots of lies that never die.

A task is set. Ignore it not—
Or rot will claim the human plot.
For in control is not mere crime,
But something darker, out of time.

So cast away both fear and pride:
Seek, fight, and choose the clearest side.
That is the path that saves the soul
From turning into ash and coal.

The TRUE FOUNDATION—Spirit bright—
To servants of the dark, pure fright.
It burns the doubt, it strips disguise,
And lays all falsehood bare to eyes.

Who understands will not obey
The filth that drags the world away.
He seeks allies, few but strong,
And will not serve what’s foul and wrong.

But those who wait for rescue sent
To “free the world” from its descent—
Are lost already, mind undone,
With reason gone, with truth outdone.

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

Antarctica’s Confusion

In Antarctica—confusion:
Winter brings a mild intrusion,
Weakest frost, as years are few—
Yet more threats keep breaking through.

Sunlight grows with harsher fire;
Chances shrink and hopes expire.
No survival in the scheme—
Only madness feeds the dream.

Propaganda, darker, thicker,
Claims the world is self-made sickness:
Cows are blamed for “toxic air,”
Humans guilty everywhere—

CO; and freon blamed,
Truth itself completely maimed.
Lies like plague now rule the age,
Spreading through a poisoned stage.

This is twilight—final season.
Ask your soul for higher reason.
Few ascend to Spirit’s shore;
Those who listen fall to war

In a new infernal scheme—
When the mind has lost its beam.

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

Antarctic Signs

Antarctica—something’s wrong:
Winters weak when they should be strong.
Time runs short, the threats increase,
Building tension without peace.

Sun burns brighter every year;
Chances vanish, cold and clear.
No escape left in the plan—
Madness teaches what it can.

Propaganda twists the story:
Human guilt becomes their glory.
Cows emit the “final doom,”
CO; fills every room—

Freon too, the global sin—
Lies now crawling under skin.
Truth is plague in modern age,
Scripted on a viral stage.

Last era. Choose what you defend:
Spirit’s rise or final end.
Few will reach the higher flame;
Others sink in Hell’s new name.

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Sun grows hot where ice should reign.
Truth dissolves in streams of blame.
Few ascend. The rest decline—
Into ages past the line.

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

Hitler Was Prepared

They groomed Hitler—gave him green light,
A planned ascent, a staged invite.
What sentence stood for “rebellion”? Five years claimed—
That’s how the record was framed.

He served just nine months—then came “treason’s” call,
And yet they still believe the tale of all:
That he rose alone, by his own design—
A self-made myth, a scripted line.

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The Green Light

Hitler was prepared—green light was set.
What sentence for revolt? Five years they met.
He served but nine months—then “treason” sealed his fate.
And still they sell the myth: he rose self-made, innate.

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The Story They Tell

He was prepared—there was a green-lit path.
Five years the “punishment” for aftermath.
Nine months he served before the “treason” claim—
Yet still they teach the myth of self-made fame.

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

Green light given. Script in hand.
Short the sentence, staged the plan.
History dressed as “self-made rise”—
A tale repeated through disguise.

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

What Can I Write About?

What shall I write? The summer’s chill,
The winter cold that lingers still?
But warming in the Zoo we see—
No topic left, it seems, for me.

I force myself to sing of “growth,”
Of progress wrapped in empty oath,
While forgetting Press of Beasts
That bent the world in savage feasts

In CowID’s raging, bitter time.
Regression now is every line.
To write of mind? Don’t even try—
The fool is crowned, the truth will die.

To write of friendship—bright and kind?
Most serve the Beast; the gentle mind
Is left alone, a “madman’s” role,
Cast out beyond the common whole.

To write of love? A poet’s game—
Sweet nothings burning into shame?
I’ll pass that theme; for years have shown
Love twisted, mocked, and overthrown.

Jealousy rules where love should live;
No space for what the heart can give.
Friendship and love—both crushed and bent
By measures Evil has long sent.

These norms now rule the world entire—
Overton windows built of liar’s fire.
If honesty still guides your pen,
Then write—but write against all men.

For dulling, rot, and mental chain
Now rhyme with every form of pain.
Resistance rises through the word—
The sharpest weapon ever heard.

A war of language comes before
The final shot, the final roar.
The “argument” becomes the gun
When all other battles are done.

Fake science, faiths that lie and cheat,
And media’s global deceit
Bend minds like shackles forged from lies—
So write of this, if truth survives.

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What to Write About

What can I write? The cooling air,
The summer heat, the winter’s stare?
But warming Zoo—the theme is dead,
No honest topic left to thread.

I try to write of “progress” bright,
While Press of Beasts hides out of sight,
That bent the world in CowID’s reign—
Where sense dissolved into disdain.

To write of thought? The age says no.
The fool is crowned; the wise must go.
To write of friends? Most serve the Beast—
The gentle mind is last and least.

To write of love? The same old play—
Jealousy rules the human way.
These themes are all already chained
By lies the Overton has trained.

So dullness, rot, and mental fall
Now rhyme and echo through it all.
But words still fight—though weak they seem—
The first line in a larger scheme.

For war begins inside the phrase,
Before the weapons, before the blaze.
When truth is banned, when minds are bent,
The pen becomes the last dissent.

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What can I write when truth is banned?
When lies are law across the land?
The poem itself becomes the fight—
A spark that cuts through managed night.

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

Clown Politicians and the Inhuman

—Are we
ruled by
a clown?—
—No, worse:
the inhuman crown!

Enchanted
by nonsense—
the crowd
lies softened in endless

streams of deceit.
And the masses don’t see—
all is darkness. Nearly
seven-eighths are fools, you see.

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

Clowns and the Inhuman

—Are we ruled
by a clown?—
—No: inhuman
wears the crown.

Hypnotized
by nonsense spread,
the crowd walks blind,
softly led

by lies laid out
like velvet sheets.
And no one sees
the dark they meet—

seven-eighths
have lost their mind,
left the thinking
far behind.

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

The Rulers

—Clown in power?—
—No, inhuman.
Crowd is dazzled
by their sermon.

Lies are gentle,
spread like balm.
People stumble,
lost and calm.

Blindness rules them
through and through—
seven-eighths
don’t have a clue.

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

Clown or monster? Still they kneel.
Lies become the way they feel.
Crowd in darkness, mind erased—
Seven parts of eight misplaced.

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

Sink or Swim

Sink—
think.

Poverty
turns to grace
if you stand
outside the race.

Lost in crowds
that chew and kill?—
No. Never.
Not my will.

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

Sink / Think

Sink—
or think.

If alone,
there is grace;
beauty lives
outside the race.

In the herd,
the stupid flow?—
No. I refuse.
Let it go.

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

Copy / Drop

Copy—
drop.

Poverty
can turn to light
if you stand
outside the fight.

In the dumb
crowd’s endless reel?—
I refuse.
Not my deal.

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

Sink or think.
Crowd or soul.
Alone can shine.
The herd will pull you whole.

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The Quality of Bastardry

The art of being a bastard grows—
Each passing day it higher goes.
No homeland left, no place to stand—
We rot in Hell across the land.

A shortage now of fire and flame.

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

Rising Bastardry

The skill of bastardry climbs high—
With every day it touches sky.
No fatherland remains in sight—
We all decay in Hell’s own light.

A deficit of flame and pain.

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

Quality Rising

The quality of bastardry
Improves with every passing day.
No homeland left, no place to be—
We rot in Hell’s entropy.

A shortage now of burning flame.

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

Bastards rise. The homeland dies.
Hell expands beneath our eyes.
Only ashes left to claim—
And a deficit of flame.

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

Trifles of Pseudo-Life

The petty things called “life”
rise like a wall—
so vanish them all,
be yourself at all.

Into the hermit’s cell:
thoughts, revelations,
rare proclamations—
amid decomposition.

And no more
prophecies needed—
the herd is well-fed,
half-dead, unheeded.

The main prophecy stands—
the fast-approaching end.
No need to describe
how light will descend—

it has already started.
That is the law to attend:

Can you, in Hell itself,
hear the Spirit’s call—
and save your soul
in a world that falls?

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

Trifles of a Fake Life

The “little things” of life
build up a wall—
escape it all,
be true or fall.

To solitude—retreat:
thought, insight, flame,
rare prophecy
through ruin and shame.

No prophecies remain—
the herd wants only feed:
to eat, to sleep,
to never read.

The only prophecy left—
the swift end near.
No need to paint
what’s already here.

It has begun.
The law is plain:

Can you hear Spirit
through Hell’s own chain—
and save your soul
in a world insane?

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Trifles of False Life

The “trifles” rise like walls around—
escape, become yourself, unbound.

In solitude:
thought, rare sight,
rare prophecy
in endless night.

No need for prophecy anymore—
the herd wants sleep, and nothing more.

The final prophecy is clear—
the end is already here.

And now the law is this alone:
Can Spirit’s voice in Hell be known?

Or will the soul be lost in sight
of a collapsing world of night?

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

Trifles rise like prison walls.
Spirit whispers through the fall.
Prophecy is nearly done—
The end has already begun.

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

The Law of Large Numbers

Old age. Exhaustion. Heavy strain.
Endure—there’s little left in pain.
A New Hell? Or somewhere worse?
Just no more falseness in this curse.

The world is fake, insane, untrue—
Loud, shameless, rotten through and through.
It’s in the gut, it won’t depart—
Its essence: war, and CowID’s art.

It showed: there is no chance at all
To halt the tide of downfall.
Old age becomes the final prize—
No need to struggle, just demise.

Survival ; decomposition.
That is the system’s hidden mission:
To crush all striving toward the Light,
And drag it down beneath all sight,

Killing soul, mind, and fading pride.
To “survive” in Hell inside?—
That is the definition clear:
Is this life—or rot while still here?

Old age is body’s slow decay.
From youth—the soul is led away.
And what remains at journey’s end?
A broken path that will not mend.

Counting sparks of scattered grace
Won’t change the rule of this dark place:
The law of numbers rules the game—
And madness rises all the same.

We’ve crossed the line beyond control;
Insanity now seals the whole.
A New Hell—there is no escape:
The fate of all in final shape.

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Law of Large Numbers

Old age. Exhaustion. Final drain.
Just endure—there’s little gain.
A New Hell? Or worse to come?
Only truth: the fake is done.

The world is loud, corrupt, obscene,
A brutal, shameless, viral scene.
Its essence: war and CowID’s trace—
A system built on human waste.

It proved: no exit from the fall,
No stopping of the rise of rot at all.
Old age becomes the final grace—
No need to win this losing race.

Survival turns to slow decay—
That is the rule we live today.
To reach the Light? It’s buried deep
Beneath the lies we’re forced to keep.

The soul is drained, the mind erased.
Survival here? A Hell embraced.
Is this called life—or slow decay?
The same end waits in every way.

From youth the spirit is confined.
At end—just wreckage left behind.
And counting “sparks” won’t change the law—
The system feeds on what we saw.

Madness has crossed the final line.
No turning back, no place to climb.
A New Hell waits—no other door:
The fate of all forevermore.

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

Numbers grow. Meaning dies.
Madness rules through measured lies.
Survival turns into decay—
And there is no other way.

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

The Law of Money

The slaves of money always strive—
One single law keeps them alive.
No exit left for those who fight,
Except the few who stand in light,

Alone, and sharp against the flow.
It isn’t senseless, you should know—
You save your soul within the frame
Of Earth’s corrupted, brutal game.

And if you’re not devoured, gone—
Then you’re the goat among the swan.

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

The Law of Gold

The slaves of cash will always crawl—
One law commands and drives them all.
No way out left for those who strive,
Except the few who stay alive

Alone, awake, against the tide.
It is not pointless to decide—
You save your soul within the night
Of Earth consumed by ruling blight.

And if you’re not among the lost—
You’re goat among the flock it costs.

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Money’s Law

To money slaves all paths are clear:
Obey, pursue, and disappear.
No exit for the massed and blind—
Only the few remain aligned,

Alone against the ruling scheme.
Not meaningless—it guards the beam:
You save your soul inside the play
Of Earth that rots in full decay.

And if you’re still not swept away—
You’re goat among the sheep today.

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

Money rules the crawling herd.
Few resist and keep the word.
Not all are lost in blinded crime—
Some stand alone against their time.

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Тоска

Тоска уменьшиться не может,
Хоть совесть никогда не гложет.
Синоним совести — тоска,
Когда далёк от дурака.

Дурак за "счастьем" шпарит смело.
Тварьё использует умело
Рефлекс придурка сей простой,
Мир превращая сплошь в ОТСТОЙ.

ОТСТОЙ. Тоска. Стезя легка,
Когда безумие в зашкале.
И в том безумии пропали
Три четверти — кругом уродцы,
И некому со Злом бороться.

Но, впрочем, нет для дурака
Громады Зла: кишка тонка,
Чтобы задуматься на миг,
Забыв отраву пошлых книг.

Тоска дышать. Тоска познать.
Тоска в мирке сём прозябать.
И не избыть сию тоску —
Нельзя вернутся к дураку.

Дурак ты в юности ВСЕГДА.
Идут в Познании года.
И с ними подступает Жуть,
Сметая всех иллюзий муть.

Иллюзий нет — тоски зашкал.
И чудо — то, что не пропал,
Идя сквозь Муть, Напрасность, Жуть:
Лишь в мифах ясен Духа Путь.

Тоска — синонимом Пути.
Но ты не можешь не Идти,
ОТЧАЯСЬ что-то обрести —
Свет, Смысл. Нет этого, прости,

В Аду Земном. Сейчас СКОТОМ
В нём делают всех дураков.
А овощи — то на потом.
Тоска: мир Духа днесь таков.

Вне Адских Сфер Души Исток.
Тоску поставив на поток,
Как перегретый пар её
Используй: вылет — Бытиё!..

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Дерьмо мирка:
Для дурака
Почти что рай.
Фас! — не зевай:

Беги вперёд.
Убогий сброд
Такой как ты —
Почти скоты.

Послушный скот
В НИЧТО идёт.
Там обретёт
Ад. В недолёт

Пока что ты
Средь маеты
Подстрелен — яд
Из лжи. Но рад —

Спасенье, мол.
В сознаньи кол —
Кирдык Душе.
Мир на туше.

Пора уже
ОЧНУТЬСЯ, иль
Поглотит Гниль —
В злом ****еже.

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Ошо как симптом рабской системы

Симптом системы: "в духе", мемы,
Сторонников — большой загон.
Не тронуты лишь РАБСТВА темы —
В "нирвану" живность гонит вон.

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

Умереть и не смотреть
На безумный пошлый ад.
Если веришь в что-то — гад.
Возрожденье — через Смерть.

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Памяти Павла Когана

"Надоело говорить и спорить
И любить усталые глаза...
В флибустьерском дальнем синем море
Бригантина поднимает паруса..."

Бригантина крен опять поймала —
Всех фантазий глупеньких итог.
Что Душа в Неведеньи пропала —
Это мелочь, ведь над нами "бог".

Бог рогатый — мастер до фантазий
Доводить чрез Мерзость, Забытьё.
И чем дальше, больше безобразий.
Надоело пошлое нытьё —

И умчим в моря на бригантине,
Презирая грошевой уют.
Даже в ПЛАНдемии "карантине"
Нас фантазии чрез Ад ведут.

Привели к войне — а дальше больше:
Ныне строят Лагерь Цифровой.
Паруса все в дырах, днище тоньше,
Сгнили снасти. На береговой

Линии рядком стоят орудья —
Ложью бьют, вгоняя в липкий страх.
Но никто придурков не осудит —
Как умеем, забываем Швах.

ЖизДнь как Швах — извечная проблема.
Мифы и фантазии её
Прикрывают. Лишь одна дилемма:
Гнить в мечтах иль обличать Гнильё.

Бригантина к брегу подкатила
И по Лжи даёт последний залп.
Он напрасен — большинство дебилы.
Капитана волосы — на скальп.

Флибустьеры Слова, ведь идеи
Главное в войне, в последний бой
Двигайтесь решительней, смелее —
Только так останетесь собой.

"Надоело говорить и спорить
И любить усталые глаза...
В флибустьерском дальнем синем море
Бригантина поднимает паруса..."

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

Pseudo-Science: The Successor to False Religions

"The triumph of a scientific doctrine and its acceptance as a worldview do not yet prove its truth."
— Vladimir Vernadsky

The winners never face a trial—
They judge the rest in every age.
The road grows darker mile by mile:
Dense fools now dominate the stage.

No proof is needed anymore—
That burden's simply cast aside.
The beasts proclaimed, "Believe our lore!"
And built a global madhouse wide.

CowID "proved" what none could prove;
No lower depth remains to seek.
These vermin always win and move
Through propaganda sold as "truth."

When arguments are running dry,
They stir emotions, fear, and spite.
Among "scientific" heaps of lies
So little still withstands the light.

Distortion, fraud, relentless spin,
Demagogy in endless streams.
The cult once worshipping a god
Now crowns "Science" in its schemes.

False religions fade away—
Their hollow temples lose their throne.
Pseudo-science rules today,
Its counterfeit now stands alone.

Light beyond the tunnel's end?
None—for that tunnel ends below.
Its final station: deepest pit,
Where only darker shadows grow.

Spirit's scrubbed from "science" now,
Though Spirit is creation's core.
Vile false theories drag the mind
Through endless falsehood evermore.

Soon the intellect will break;
Decay will spread from shore to shore.
People hide inside their holes,
Bound by lies forevermore.

Nature is the final Judge;
No verdict forged by human hands.
Cataclysms cleanse the world—
Ashes cool where falsehood stands.

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

Pseudo-Science Ascendant

"The triumph of a scientific doctrine and its acceptance as a worldview do not yet prove its truth."
— Vladimir Vernadsky

They never try the ones who win—
Those victors sit in judgment's chair.
The future darkens, grim and thin:
Blind stumps of minds are everywhere.

No proof is asked, no truth required;
The beasts decree—and all obey.
Their barking slogans, loud and tired,
Have paved the madhouse of today.

CowID became "established fact"—
The cliff has long since disappeared.
These parasites prevail, in fact,
By lies that everyone has feared.

Where arguments collapse in shame,
They weaponize the crowd's desire.
Emotion wears the mask of reason,
While facts are tossed upon the pyre.

Forged citations, doctored claims,
Statistics bent to serve the throne.
Sophistry in lab-coat garb—
A fraud pretending to be known.

The temples cracked, the idols fell;
Old false religions lost their reign.
Now pseudo-science chants the spell
And crowns itself the priest again.

A light beyond the tunnel's end?
No—for the tunnel sinks below.
Its destination is the Pit,
Where even borrowed lights won't glow.

Spirit's erased from every text,
Though Spirit is creation's flame.
Dead theories breed dead intellects;
The fraud survives—the truth takes blame.

The mind grows dull, the soul grows chained,
Decay seeps deep through every vein.
Whole nations crouch in silent holes,
Harnessed by deception's rein.

Yet Nature keeps the final court;
No tyrant overrules her will.
Cataclysm writes the sentence—
Fire... then silence... cold and still.

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

Total Enslavement

"Beneath the surface of modern life lies its deepest and most outrageous falsehood—the false postulate of the real equality of men."
— Jos; Ortega y Gasset

The slaves are "equal"—so they claim;
Yet crawl with zeal, obey each nod,
You'll climb the ladder all the same,
And those below become your sod.

Yet iron limits fence your rise—
Your "master" also wears a chain.
Who owns the masters in disguise?
The beasts stay hidden. Truth lies slain.

Drowned in deception, minds grow numb;
The slaves mistake their chains for choice.
The media drums—the crowds succumb,
And Earth obeys the loudest voice.

The Overton Windows swing wide;
New shackles enter, one by one.
Each seems too small to turn the tide—
Together all escape is gone.

A thousand petty rules invade,
They never let the captive rest.
To rot in peace is now denied;
Submission is the highest test.

They force false muzzles on all faces,
Invent diseases, spread alarm;
Then sell false cures in death's embraces,
Disguising poison, wrapped as balm.

The pattern spreads from land to land;
Corruption flowers everywhere.
Decay extends its withered hand—
Its triumph poisons earth and air.

The hidden beasts now wear the crown,
A many-headed mythic snake.
Even Hell keeps ranks of its own—
Equality is fraud's mistake.

"Progress" is but a painted mask;
Beneath it festers slow collapse.
Infernal powers serve one task:
Erase the Spirit, spring the traps.

The highest flame of Spirit alone
Knows unity beyond all birth.
In it no tyrant claims a throne,
Nor measures souls by dust of earth.

Hell's servants strain with all their might;
Their engines grind both soul and bone.
Soon all that's living, robbed of light,
May smolder into ash and stone.

Seek refuge in the Realm of Spirit—
Your truest essence lived there first.
Before the cattle-yoke of bondage,
Before deception fed its thirst.

Reject the lie before it seals
Your fate beneath the tyrant's rod.
Who trusts illusion, kneels forever—
Who seeks the Spirit, walks with God.

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

Tolerism and Globalism

"When Asians carry out a massacre, it is called barbarity; when Europeans do, it is called political necessity."
— Sri Aurobindo

"Asians" slaughter, so we're told;
We bring justice, brave and bold.
Every day, in every land,
"Necessity" is close at hand.

They are hatred—we're "progress."
They oppress—we simply bless.
Tolerance becomes the creed,
Masking power, cloaking greed.

Yet the sickness has a name:
Global tolerance—insane.
Split in mind, the masses kneel;
Soon they'll worship iron heel.

If required, the bombs will fly—
"Democracy" from blood-red sky.
Submit to those who claim they're best,
Or be erased with all the rest.

Now the weapons rarely roar;
Falsehood wages subtler war.
Lies, like fusion, flood the air,
Till the dull believe despair.

CowID showed how fear can reign;
More false plagues will come again.
Long before that fearful tide,
False alarms had cleared the guide.

Methods vary, masks are new;
Every empire paints them true.
Western lies wear softer skin,
Smiling gently as they win.

Those in slow decadent sleep
Dream that freedom still runs deep.
While the chains grow fine and thin,
Captive hearts invite them in.

Little hope remains in sight;
Slow decay consumes the light.
Media feed delusion still—
Madness spreads at someone's will.

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

The Tame Vulture Named "CLASSIFIED"

The vulture stamped CLASSIFIED
Glides down where countless millions died.
Its shadow chills the blood and bone—
The truth must never yet be known.

The files conceal genocide;
Machines have rusted, men have died.
The weapons fade, the steel grows old,
But not the lies they still withhold.

Those archives, buried out of sight,
Remain entombed in endless night.
There one might learn how Evil reigns:
Destroy—and profit from the pain.

The greater slaughter, all the better;
The masses feast on blood forever.
Yet one great secret stays concealed:
Who truly drove the killing field?

The fool, well-trained by propaganda,
Applauds the victor's grand agenda.
The tale is polished, scrubbed, refined—
Its darkest chapters left behind.

The triumph shines in public view,
Its hidden price concealed from you.
The vulture circles overhead...
Its seal keeps feeding on the dead.

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

On the Scaffold of Pseudo-Life

The weight of weariness and fear,
Despair and shame in one grim breath—
The whole world's turned into a block
Where Reason waits the axe of death.

The beasts have fixed a single aim:
To strike the Spirit from within.
By murdering the living mind,
They drag the soul to slow ruin.

The foolish bow, the frightened yield,
Once more embracing crafted lies.
Perhaps the final age has come—
When falsehood triumphs, truth just dies.

CowID proved how frail the herd,
How deep corruption's roots now run.
Most crawl in fear, consumed by lies,
Their inner battle long undone.

Yet never cease to stand and fight—
Your soul is rescued by that stand.
See through the world's grotesque facade;
Its price is less than grains of sand.

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

School

Children in their little cages—
School prepares them for the ages.
Training them to bow and yield,
For the grown-up slave-work field.

Slavery—the "adult" way;
Spirit, Reason—targets prey.
There they're set up in the sight,
Shot at daily, left to blight.

Producing stumps of minds and souls—
That's the system's highest goals.
"Education," "upbringing" too:
Making servants through and through.

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

The Schoolhouse

Children caged behind a desk—
Order taught through the grotesque.
Learn obedience, learn fear,
Wear the yoke from year to year.

Thus begins the "adult" role:
Grinding Reason, maiming Soul.
Spirit serves as target practice,
Crushed beneath the system's tactics.

What is "education" for?
Not to open any door.
Its supreme and constant goal:
Produce dull wood in human form.

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

Renunciation

Let us turn from the old world forever,
Shake its dust from our feet as we go.
Now it stinks like a foul public sewer,
Where the Devil sits high on his throne.

"New" or "old"—it's the same weary chorus;
Beasts have ruled every kingdom and age.
Stand unbending though drowned in corruption;
Do not bow in their infernal cage.

Nature too shall renounce them—and swiftly;
All their monstrous dominion will fall.
Cataclysms will shatter their burrows;
Those who yielded to Evil lose all.

Few will enter the Realm of the Spirit;
Renunciation burns in their veins.
Like free birds they abandon the sewer,
Saving souls for the Newborn Domain.

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

Forsake the World

Forsake the old world without sorrow;
Shake its ashes away from your feet.
What was living has sunk to a latrine,
Where the Prince of Decay holds his seat.

"Old" and "new" are the masks of one empire;
Beasts have governed wherever men kneel.
Keep your honor though buried in filth—
Never yield to the tyranny's seal.

Soon will Nature renounce her betrayers;
Judgment ripens beyond human sight.
Cataclysm will level their burrows;
Those who served the abyss lose the Light.

Only few seek the Realm of the Spirit—
Renunciation kindles their flame.
Like released birds they rise from the sewer,
Bearing home their immortal name.

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

The Global Madhouse, or Hell of Decline

Madness. Misfits. Hopeless days.
Fear returns in choking waves.
Wait a little—death draws near;
Soon your "god" will greet you here.

Yet this madhouse crowns the Horned;
For a life in folly worn,
Comes another birth in line—
One more step in downward climb.

Hell of Decline is where we stay,
Rotting through each passing day.
At your best you'll only slow
The descent, not stop its flow.

Little use in striving here;
Hell rewards the base with cheer.
Scoundrels perched on scoundrels reign,
Building one unbroken chain.

Media serve the beasts alone;
Truth is buried under stone.
Lies surround you, night and day—
Dark infernal disarray.

Every effort, every plan,
Sinks beneath the fraud of man.
Deepening ruin, cold and vast...
This decline may be the last.

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

The Global Madhouse

Madhouse. Mayhem. Hope is dead.
Dread keeps hammering in your head.
Wait a little. Death will call.
Meet your "god"—the lord of Fall.

Pay the price for wasted breath:
Birth again through living death.
Every lifetime downward hurled,
One more rung beneath the world.

This is Hell—not flame, but rot;
Here the Spirit is forgot.
At your best you merely slow
The abyssal undertow.

Schemes collapse before they're grown;
Vermin build on vermin's throne.
Every summit hides a fraud;
Every ruler serves the rod.

Media drown the final cry;
Every truth is left to die.
Lies grow total, black and vast—
Infernal shadows gathering fast.

Should the Spirit not awake,
Mind itself will finally break.
Then degeneration's spell
Closes shut the gates of Hell.

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

The Parrot Fool

"Imitation is a useful training vessel; yet let no admiral's flag ever fly above it."
— Sri Aurobindo

Imitation finds its berth
Where mimic souls outnumber worth.
One rebel breaks the ordered line—
They call him mad... for one brief time.

He lifts the flag of Liberty;
Though storms may drag him to the deep,
He dies before betraying self—
A truer course no slave can keep.

His life was never lived in vain;
One living surge outweighs the years.
Routine repeated hour by hour
Feeds the demon born of fears.

Its purpose? Bind with little things,
Exalt the trivial every day.
Thus we become our own executioners,
Driving the soul itself away.

Submit to patterns, rules, and forms—
The inward Fire fades to ash.
Half-alive, half-drugged by noise,
You breathe the media's poisoned trash.

Leave the harbor. Seek the Ocean,
Slayer of each borrowed scheme.
Better sink in boundless waters
Than drift inside another's dream.

For endless survival among
The Sea of Petty Trivialities
Makes you blind before you know it—
Serving the Spirit's enemies.

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

The Foolish Parrot

"Imitation is a fine training ship; but never should an admiral's flag be flown above it."
— Sri Aurobindo

Imitation seeks the harbor,
Crowded with performing fools.
One untamed soul defies the current—
Madness, say obedient schools.

Yet he hoists the Flag of Freedom;
Should he founder in the sea,
Better that than die unknowing
What his spirit dared to be.

One great wave outweighs a lifetime
Spent repeating borrowed cries.
Endless echoes drain the living,
There the hidden demon lies.

He enchains with little customs,
Makes the trivial seem supreme.
Thus we forge our own destruction,
Murdering the inward flame.

Bow to standards, bow to fashion—
Soon the Fire is all but gone.
Half awake, you breathe corruption,
Fed by every lying tongue.

Leave the harbor for the Ocean—
Executioner of schemes.
Better drown in truth's vast waters
Than survive on borrowed dreams.

For the sea of petty concerns
Steals both vision, strength, and voice.
Fail to see—and, all unknowing,
You become the Spirit's choice...

Or its butcher.

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

Be Proud of Decay!

"A miserable man who has nothing of which he can be proud seizes upon the only thing left—he takes pride in the nation to which he belongs."
— Arthur Schopenhauer

"Our nation's best!"—the banners fly.
"The rest are fools!" the crowds all cry.
"I'm proud to be among the great!"
...A tribe of wrecks consumed by hate.

The pattern's old in every land;
The script repeats on each command.
The beasts sow dullness, soul by soul,
Until decay consumes the whole.

That is the heart of their design—
A vast experiment malign.
The inhuman rule; the "elite"
Have sold themselves for power's seat.

The future offers little light;
The mind grows dim, the day turns night.
A handful may withstand the flood,
Yet cannot halt corruption's blood.

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

Take Pride in the Rot!

"A man with nothing worthy of pride clings to the nation as his last possession."
— Arthur Schopenhauer

"Our people first!" the slogans roar.
"The others matter nevermore!"
"I share a glorious nation's fame!"
A glorious ruin, all the same.

The plague is everywhere the same;
No border alters how they game.
The beasts make ignorance their art,
Corrupting every feeble heart.

They rot the soul before the mind,
Until no inward light we find.
That is the grand experiment:
To leave the human spirit spent.

The inhuman wear the crown;
The bought-and-paid-for kneel them down.
The so-called "elite" sold their name,
And help preserve the rotting frame.

No radiant future waits ahead;
Too many minds are nearly dead.
A faithful few may still endure—
But cannot make the sickness pure.

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

Gavvah

The Beast feeds on the human soul;
Lies and fear become its toll.
Fools consume the poisoned creed—
March to labor, war, and "healing" led.

Rot spreads far on every side;
Gavvah flows in crimson tides.
Hard it is to still remain
True among the tamed and chained.

Fascist darkness wears a smile,
Masked as "humanism" all the while.
CowID stripped the mask away—
Reason gasps and fades each day.

Spirit now's a dangerous word;
Few can bear what they have heard.
"To be, or not?"—the ancient cry
Meets an age where souls all die.

Man draws nearer to the beast;
Each new age extends the feast.
History bends beneath the fraud,
Hidden still beneath the rod.

Media veil the creeping night,
Drowning every spark of light.
Stupefaction clouds the air;
Spirit's Night is everywhere.

Only wakefulness can guide
Those who will not drift with tide.
Search the walls of living Hell—
Find one crack. Escape the cell.

Here no soul can long endure;
This world's cure is never sure.
Only those both fierce and free
Reach the farther Shore to be.

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

Feeding the Beast

The Beast devours the souls of men;
Lies and fear are in its den.
Fools absorb the crafted tale—
March to battle, work, or ail.

Rot now blossoms everywhere;
Gavvah floods the poisoned air.
Hard it is to stand alone
Where the herd has flesh for stone.

"Humanism" masks the chain;
Kindness serves the tyrant's reign.
CowID tore the curtain wide—
Reason bled, and truth then died.

Spirit has become a crime;
Such has grown the age and time.
"To be or not?" still echoes on—
Yet Being itself is almost gone.

Man approaches beast by choice,
Losing first his inward voice.
Age by age the darkness spreads,
Fed by all the lies it breeds.

Media perfume decay,
Painting Night as break of day.
Every headline dulls the mind;
Leaves the living soul behind.

Only consciousness can see
Hidden paths to liberty.
Seek the fracture in the wall—
Do not answer Hell's last call.

None can save the soul in here;
This domain consumes through fear.
Only spirits bold and true
Break beyond... into the New.

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

Deception, Fear, and Solitude

"The source of fear is in your heart, not in the hand of the one who frightens you."
— Kahlil Gibran

Cast fear aside, and walk away,
Leave hollow worlds that rot and fade.
Walk on alone, yet truly free;
Know Nature—and discover thee.

The wellspring of all fear is there,
Within your own unguarded breast.
Yet solitude can be a shield
When crowds leave every soul oppressed.

The Lie is everywhere enthroned;
Its greatest weapon still is fear.
Discern the engines of deceit,
Then break their hold and persevere.

Deception first, reaction next,
Then comes the offered "saving" cure.
Thus power molds obedient minds,
While slow corruption grows secure.

Falsehood joined with naked force—
That is tyranny's oldest art.
Each false solution breeds decay,
And tears the human soul apart.

CowID proved how fear can kill;
One lie became the butcher's blade.
False healing served as quiet war,
While trust itself was soon betrayed.

Decay has reached a fatal height;
The madhouse crowns itself as wise.
Madness governs all the streets,
Yet calls delusion paradise.

To dwell too long among the mad
Is peril to the thinking mind.
Withdraw within, a hermit's path—
There clarity you still may find.

If Reason has not wholly fallen,
If Spirit's ember still is bright,
Then inward silence lights the way
Beyond deception, into Light.

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

Opinion on Decay

Generations.
Stupefaction.
Serving Evil—
Slow collapse.

Yet they call it
"Just opinion."
Wrong again—
Without exception.

Those who still dare question lies
Are Red Book birds before our eyes.

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

A Matter of Opinion?

Generation after generation:
Dulling minds.
Serving Evil.
Feeding Ruin.

Still they answer:
"Just your opinion."
Wrong as always—
Beyond disputing.

Those who still can doubt the script
Are rarer than Red Book birds.

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

The "Healer" and the Satrap

Medicine's a circus show,
Wire-walk tricks for minds kept low.
If you're healthy—what a laugh!
If you're broken—empty staff.

Comfort sold as sacred skill;
Egos climb the highest hill.
Each new age breeds doctors proud,
Thinking less while boasting loud.

CowID laid bare the stage:
Fools performed in every cage.
Had but five in every score
Thought for themselves, and nothing more,

No experiment so vast
Could have chained the world so fast.
But greed outbid both truth and shame—
Profit was the only game.

Now they long for fresh "pandemics";
Money speaks in new dynamics.
Thus the circus rolls along,
Cheered by minds that call it strong.

Madness crowns itself as sense;
Folly rules with confidence.
Every fraud becomes a creed,
Every slogan plants a seed.

Dose them, brand them, send them back—
Work awaits upon the track.
Slave away beneath "the free";
Thus they praise captivity.

Each new generation brings
Fewer minds with questioning wings.
Reason thins from year to year;
Nonsense reigns unchecked by fear.

Foremost stands the learned sage,
Actor on the painted stage.
Yet unseen, behind the scene,
Sits the Satrap, cold, unseen.

Clownish rulers play their role,
Hypnotized by lies they sold.
When absurdity wears the crown,
Every empire tumbles down.

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

Going Feral

A Shvonder fits each grand regime—
Fine breeding ground for fools to dream.
Even scholars earn their place,
Kneading falsehood into paste.

Then they bake grand theories bright—
Empty phantoms dressed as light.
Every system claims to save;
Every leash creates a slave.

Orders come through crafted lies;
Truth is what propaganda buys.
Everything runs back to front—
Reason bears the heaviest brunt.

Pressed beneath deception's weight,
Man forgets his higher state.
Turned from human into hound...
Few stay wild where chains abound.

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

Feral

Shvonders flourish where dogma reigns;
Fools inherit ready chains.
Even learned minds comply,
Kneading falsehood into lies.

Theory after theory bred—
Paper castles for the dead.
Every system promises dawn;
Every promise breeds a pawn.

Commands arrive disguised as truth;
Thus they capture age and youth.
Everything is turned around;
Spirit buried underground.

Under pressure, day by day,
Human nature wears away.
Man becomes the watchdog's kin...
Only few refuse the kennel.

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

Love? Whom?

Love? Whom? I see no soul
Still worthy of that sacred name.
Decay has swallowed nearly all—
The fools play on the selfsame game.

Each finds a burrow, finds a mate,
Bows once again to Evil's throne;
Believes the lie, betrays the near,
And builds a deeper Hell of his own.

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

Love? Of Whom?

Love? Of whom? What still remains?
Ruin echoes through the land.
Yet fools are busy pairing off,
Content inside their little den.

They kneel once more before the Lie,
Repeat deception as their creed;
Betray their neighbors without shame—
And help make Hell the world we breed.

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

The Professionals

A Phantasmagoria in Verse

The tortoise wins the hundred-yard;
The elephant sells crystal ware.
The wolf and lamb are business partners—
Nothing strange is left to share.

Now all are equal... in absurdity.
The owl, once wisdom's ancient sign,
Searches vainly for fresh language
To describe these fallen times.

The zoo has turned to perfect chaos.
The cheetah's labeled far too slow;
Sprint experts praise the crawling snail—
"True progress" moves at gentler flow.

The peacock now's the greatest poet:
Feathers matter, not the song.
Every beast has lost its nature,
Praising what does not belong.

Worse is waiting just ahead;
Every window shifts once more.
Slugs become heroic athletes,
Lice become the gourmet corps.

And the donkey—Academician!
Truth be told, that's nothing new.
Songbirds have forgotten singing;
Herds dream only: eat, chew, snooze.

What of those who rule the circus?
Mammoths standing, cold and grand.
Living statues on the outside—
Rotting stumps beneath the skin.

No horizons. None remaining.
All coherence comes apart.
Even fir trees change their colors...
And the idol's foul at heart.

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

The Story They'll Tell

The thug was told: "Fight side by side
With the Frenchman—march away!"
He came back home inside a box...
No one cared. Another day.

Conscience weighs no coin at all;
Cash is all the zealots see.
Later someone writes the story:
"They fought Evil. They were free."

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

Return Cargo

"Go with the Frenchman—off to war!
Fight for glory!"—so they cried.
Home he journeyed in a coffin;
Just another numbered ride.

Conscience seldom buys a fortune;
Money speaks, the dead grow still.
Then the chroniclers will promise:
"They fought Evil by their will."

History, once dressed in ribbons,
Hides the price beneath the praise.
Truth is buried with the fallen;
Myths survive to crown the graves.

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

Freelance Shame

A shameful world: a freelance site
Makes workers pay to earn the right
To offer skill and honest sweat.
Such chaos seals its downfall yet.

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

Pay to Work

A world disgraced: the freelance mart
Demands a fee before you start.
You pay to offer honest skill—
A system rotten through and still.

No hope remains to set things right;
The whole affair's a sorry sight.
When labor pays to seek its bread,
The market's spirit is long dead.

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

Hybrid Lines of the Pseudo-Elites

The ruler is no beast himself—
A half-beast sits upon the throne.
A hybrid mind, a fractured shell,
Where rage and madness have outgrown.

Possession is the truest word
For such corrupted forms of will.
A near-invisible dark force
Searches for vessels, waiting still—

To take a host, to plug itself
Into a mind already torn.
Not simple, yet it comes with time,
Where empty darkness is reborn.

And so this hollow, stagnant void
Persists beneath the tainted crown,
If we do not cast off the rule
That drags all higher meaning down.

So wake. And break the web of lies,
And rouse the sleeping in their haze.
Reach only toward the Light above—
Reject all compromise and praise.

For if you drift with blinded crowds,
You share their fall into the pit,
Where filth and ruin rule as kings,
And human worth is lost in it.

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

A World Where the Overwhelming Majority Are Cattle

Cattle. Shameful. Hopeless sight.
A decaying, feeble world of blight.
“Just don’t touch me—leave me be!”
That’s the law of misery.

In such filth, the Devil reigns—
Worshipped through obedient chains.

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

A World of Cattle

Cattle. Shame. A world undone.
Rot spreads slowly, tainting everyone.
“Don’t disturb me”—that’s the creed,
Where corruption plants its seed.

Here the Devil wears a face
Of a god in public space.

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

Osho in America

He loved the crowds, the limousines,
And spoke with polished, clever ease.
Yet all around him—empty minds;
With fools, no scheme ever succeeds.

And so he lost it all in time,
His glittered city fell apart.
At first he spoke of saving souls—
But ended playing a darker part.

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

Osho in America

He loved the crowds, the limos' shine,
And talked his way through every line.
But when you're ringed by empty heads,
No grand design survives or spreads.

So down it fell—the hollow town;
No tragedy, just well-earned downfall.
He spoke of saving souls at first—
Yet ended something far worse.

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

Osho in America

He loved the crowds, the gleam of gold,
The limousines, the stories told.
With silver tongue and smiling lies
He spun his web beneath the skies.

But ring him round with empty minds—
No craft, no wisdom there he finds.
For genius, placed in foolish lands,
Turns dust in poorly chosen hands.

The city glittered, hollow-core,
A stage built only to adore.
And what was meant to lift the soul
Became a marketplace of role.

At first he spoke of inner flame,
Of healing hearts and shedding shame.
But power tastes of earthly clay—
And slowly drags the light away.

So what began as promised grace
Curdled into a darker place.
The savior’s mask, so bright, so thin,
Gave way to what was growing in.

Not tragedy in noble form—
But folly dressed as coming storm.
And every dream that sought to rise
Was sold beneath American skies.

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

Osho as a Symptom of the Slave System

A symptom of the system: “spirit,” memes,
A fenced-in crowd of followers and dreams.
Yet slavery itself is never named—
Only escape into “nirvana” claimed.

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

Osho: A Symptom of the System

A symptom of the system—“spiritual” games,
A penned-up herd of repeating names.
But slavery itself stays out of sight,
While “nirvana” drives the herd from light.

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

Flock of Sheep, More Lies Again

A flock of sheep, more lies once more—
Submit, believe the dark in store.
The world is rot, a festering stain,
Mixed through and through with filth and pain.

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

Sheep Again, and Lies Again

Sheep again, and lies return:
“Obey the dark and never learn.”
The world is rot, a cursed decay,
A heap of filth we knead and stay.

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

Kinder Surprise

For Kinder—“surprise,” the mother,
Dulled and blank, the father too—
Aggression runs the household’s weather,
Life, in sum, a dark review.

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

Kinder Surprise

A “surprise” for Kinder given—
Mother dulled, the father harsh.
This is life: a bitter vision,
Where the world turns foul and harsh.

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

Kinder Surprise

“Kinder Surprise”—what a name.
Mother dulled. Father flame.
One breeds sleep, the other rage—
Welcome to the human cage.

This is life: no gentle tale—
Just a system gone stale.
Smile outside, rot inside—
Truth is what they try to hide.

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

Kinder Surprise

Kinder “surprise”—what a joke.
Mother numb, and father broke.
Raised on anger, raised on lies—
That’s the world behind their eyes.

Life is not a gentle word—
It’s decay barely blurred.
Smile is cheap, the core is rust—
Eat the lie, because you must.

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

Earthly Life

“Heaven’s punishment?”—you say.
But we live beneath decay.
Hell itself becomes the norm
For the fallen human swarm.

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

Earthly Life

“Divine retribution?”—no.
We live where lower forces grow.
Hell is not a threat above—
It’s the ground we’re made of.

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

At the Bottom of Poetry

I descended to poetry’s bottom line—
Hello, hard work and poverty mine.
Yet in that place I found, instead,
A clearer light inside my head.

There beauty comes in fragile trace,
Reflecting through the mad world’s face.
And though it’s little, still it saves—
The soul that bows to no one’s praise.

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

At Poetry’s Bottom

I went down to poetry’s floor—
Work and poverty, nothing more.
Yet there I found a sharper sight,
And something close to inward light.

Too small for those who chase the show,
Yet strong enough to let me know:
To save the soul from empty praise,
You must survive the darker ways.

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

Lessons in Hell?!

Lessons in Hell—what use are they
When soul itself decays away?
Leave this place—do not delay.

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

Lessons in Hell?!

Lessons in Hell? No gain, no light—
Just soul-decay, a slow defeat.
Escape this place—run from the night.

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

Lessons in Hell

Lessons in Hell—no gain, no grace,
Only decay in soul and face.
Leave this place—do not delay,
Before the mind turns full decay.

---

Earthly Life

“No punishment from skies above—
We live where lower forces shove.
Hell is not a distant fire—
It’s the ground of every desire.”

---

Flock of Sheep

A flock of sheep, more lies again—
Obey the dark, forget the pain.
The world is rot, a creeping stain,
Where truth dissolves in dirt and shame.

---

At Poetry’s Bottom

I went down to poetry’s floor—
Work and hunger, nothing more.
Yet there I found a clearer sight,
And something close to inward light.

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

Fragments from the Lower Condition

Lessons in Hell

Lessons in Hell: no increase in understanding.
Only the continuation of internal decay.
Exit is not theoretical—it is required.

---

Earthly Condition

No external punishment is observed.
The system itself functions as confinement.
What is called “life” coincides with constraint.

---

On Collective Behavior

A flock structure repeats stable patterns.
Information loss is systemic, not accidental.
Deviation from the pattern is statistically rare.

---

On Language and Belief

Declarations replace verification.
Belief is treated as sufficient evidence.
Consequently, error becomes self-sustaining.

---

At the Bottom of Expression

Reduction of conditions reveals clarity.
External pressure correlates with internal precision.
Minimal state produces maximal perception.

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

Flock Structure and False Instruction

A flock reacts to repeated signals.
Instruction replaces independent evaluation.
Error propagation becomes systemic.
Compliance is statistically dominant.

---

Earthly Condition

No external punitive mechanism is required.
The environment itself functions as constraint.
Individual agency remains limited by default conditions.

---

On Collective Degradation

Across generations, cognitive variability decreases.
Conformity increases as adaptive behavior.
Nonconforming states are statistically rare and unstable.

---

On Systems of Deception

Signal distortion precedes behavioral response.
Response is interpreted as autonomous decision.
This loop maintains operational stability of the system.

---

On Social Identification

Group self-description replaces objective analysis.
Internal contradictions are normalized as identity.
External critique is filtered as irrelevant noise.

---

On Behavioral Control

External stimuli are structured to elicit predictable responses.
The response is later reclassified as choice.
This produces an illusion of autonomy.

---

On “Progress” and Decline

Changes in surface structure do not affect underlying entropy.
Apparent development coexists with systemic degradation.
Directionality is assumed, not verified.

---

On Language Usage

Terminology is adjusted to stabilize perception.
Definitions shift without corresponding change in structure.
Meaning becomes context-dependent and non-fixed.

---

On Exit Conditions

Reduction of external input increases internal resolution.
Observation without participation alters system influence.
Withdrawal produces maximal interpretative clarity.

---

On Critical Thresholds

When contradiction density exceeds tolerance limits,
system coherence is preserved through narrative substitution.
At this point, structural correction is no longer initiated internally.

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

1. Flock of Sheep, More Lies Again

A flock of sheep, again in lies—
“Obey the dark, believe its skies.”
The world is rot, a poisoned stain,
Mixed through and through with filth and pain.

2. Collective Behavioral Model

A flock structure demonstrates recurrent compliance patterns.
Instruction acceptance correlates with reduced critical assessment.
Negative environmental conditions are normalized as baseline state.
Systemic degradation is treated as non-exceptional.

3. On the Condition of Obedience

Where perception yields to imposed shadow,
structure becomes indistinguishable from decay.
What is called “world” is a composite state
in which clarity is continuously diluted.

The acceptance of false signals
establishes a closed loop of descent.
Within this loop, degradation is interpreted
as normality rather than transformation.

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

1. Spiritual Path

“Freedom of speech” again the Beast
spits poison, fear, and noise released.
The lie becomes the frame of rule—
the heart that hears is made the fool.

A pyramid of hollow minds,
where filth at the top designs the lines.
Selection favors lowest strain—
then strikes from shadows once again.

“Freedom” is now the sacred sign,
with “care” that hides a killing line.
Behind the words, the pattern shows:
control through chaos carefully grows.

A problem made from crafted lies,
then “solutions” arise as disguise.
Each “measure” adds another chain—
a deeper loop of silent pain.

What calls itself “progress” today
is rot translated into display.
Truth is replaced with managed fraud—
and servitude becomes the law.

There is no freedom left outside—
only belief the system provides.
The world continues its decay,
multiplying fear each day.

Yet freedom calls a different name—
within, not in the outer frame.
To reach it, all must fall away
from structures built on forced dismay.

And there, beyond imposed control,
a fragile light restores the soul.
The path is hard, yet clear and true—
only within does mind renew.

2. Spiritual Path (System Model)

Speech regulation is presented as “freedom of expression.”
Information output is accompanied by induced emotional pressure.

False narrative generation precedes corrective policy implementation.
Causal structure: constructed problem ; institutional response ; expansion of control parameters.

Hierarchical systems demonstrate negative selection of competence.
Stability is maintained through internal inversion of value criteria.

Semantic inversion is observed:

“freedom” corresponds to regulated compliance
“care” corresponds to coercive intervention
“progress” corresponds to systemic degradation

Population response is predominantly passive, indicating high adaptation to distorted informational environments.

External freedom variables converge toward zero.
Internal interpretive autonomy remains the only non-zero domain.

System exit condition: withdrawal of identification with externally defined semantic structures.

3. On the Illusion of External Freedom

When speech becomes an echo of imposed structure,
reality organizes itself through distortion.

What appears as freedom
is the surface motion of deeper constraint.

Forms of control arise not as interruption,
but as continuation of unresolved internal patterns.

Thus, “truth” and “lie” operate within the same field,
differentiated only by their function in sustaining perception.

The collapse of external reference
reveals that liberation was never located in form.

Within the field of awareness,
only identification generates bondage.

When identification ceases,
structure loses its binding force.

What remains is not freedom as concept,
but undifferentiated clarity prior to interpretation.

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

PHILOSOPHICAL CODEX OF OBSERVATION

PREAMBLE: On Method

This text does not describe emotions.
It describes recurring structures of perception, behavior, and systemic language.

No moral conclusions are required.
Only stability, recurrence, and transformation of states are recorded.

I — DISTORTION (The External System)

How reality is constructed through inversion

I.1 — On Language Inversion

Speech systems do not transmit truth.
They regulate interpretation.

Freedom, care, and progress function as adaptive labels
attached to controlled behavioral fields.

I.2 — On Manufactured Problems

Systemic correction follows a stable sequence:

constructed anomaly ; public stabilization ; expansion of control

The cycle is self-justifying and self-renewing.

I.3 — On Hierarchical Selection

Selection mechanisms favor compliance over competence.
Structural elevation is inversely correlated with cognitive clarity.

I.4 — On Collective Response

Collective behavior adapts faster than critical analysis develops.
This produces long-term normalization of distortion.

II — COMPLIANCE (The Internalization of Structure)

How external control becomes internal state

II.1 — On Belief Substitution

Declared belief replaces verification processes.
Repetition replaces evaluation.

II.2 — On Identity Stabilization

Contradiction is absorbed into identity maintenance.
Internal inconsistency becomes a stabilizing factor.

II.3 — On Behavioral Convergence

Across time, variability decreases while predictability increases.
Deviation becomes statistically marginal.

II.4 — On False Autonomy

Responses generated under constraint are reclassified as choice.
Autonomy becomes a retrospective narrative.

III — DECOMPOSITION (Systemic Entropy)

How stability is maintained through decay

III.1 — On Progressive Degradation

Apparent development coexists with structural entropy.
Directionality is assumed, not verified.

III.2 — On Semantic Collapse

Meaning is no longer fixed.
Terms shift without structural anchoring.

III.3 — On Normalized Decay

Degradation is interpreted as baseline condition.
No corrective impulse emerges internally.

IV — WITHDRAWAL (Exit from Identification)

Conditions of non-participation

IV.1 — On External Detachment

Reduction of external input increases clarity of internal structure.

IV.2 — On Observation Without Participation

Non-identification alters system influence.
Observation becomes non-reactive.

IV.3 — On Internal Space

When external references collapse,
interpretation ceases to require validation.

IV.4 — On Exit Condition

Exit is not spatial.
It is the cessation of identification with imposed structures.

V — CLARITY (Non-Systemic State)

Minimal description of what remains

V.1 — On Non-Interpretation

When interpretation ceases, structure is no longer stabilized by narrative.

V.2 — On Awareness

Awareness is not produced by system processes.
It is not modified by them.

V.3 — On Final State

No claim of “truth” remains.
Only undifferentiated clarity prior to classification.

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

PHILOSOPHICAL CODEX OF OBSERVATION

Poetry + Structural Analysis

PREFACE

This work contains two inseparable layers:

Poetic layer — compressed emotional perception of reality
Structural layer — neutral observation of recurring mechanisms

Neither layer is complete alone.
Together they form a single descriptive field.

No moral interpretation is required.
Only structure, recurrence, and transformation are recorded.

I — DISTORTION

External reality as constructed inversion

I.1 — On Speech and Control

Poetic Layer

“Freedom of speech” becomes a vessel of pressure.
Noise replaces meaning. Fear replaces clarity.
The world speaks loudly, but says less.

Structural Layer

Speech systems function as regulation mechanisms.
Semantic output is shaped by external constraints.
Perceived freedom correlates with controlled variability of expression.

I.2 — On Manufactured Reality

Poetic Layer

A problem is created from distortion,
then presented as necessity for correction.
Each solution deepens the structure it claims to repair.

Structural Layer

Causal sequence:
constructed anomaly ; institutional response ; expansion of control field
The cycle is self-stabilizing.

I.3 — On Inversion of Values

Poetic Layer

Care becomes coercion.
Progress becomes decay.
Truth becomes optional language.

Structural Layer

Semantic inversion is a stabilizing mechanism.
Value labels are detached from structural reference.
System coherence is preserved through reinterpretation.

II — COMPLIANCE

Internalization of external structure

II.1 — On Collective Behavior

Poetic Layer

A flock repeats what is transmitted.
Deviation fades before it forms.

Structural Layer

Collective systems optimize for predictability.
Variance decreases across generational cycles.

II.2 — On Belief Substitution

Poetic Layer

What is repeated becomes real enough to act upon.
What is verified becomes unnecessary.

Structural Layer

Verification is replaced by repetition-based validation.
Belief functions as operational substitute for evidence.

II.3 — On False Autonomy

Poetic Layer

Choice is experienced after the path is set.
Freedom is described post-factum.

Structural Layer

Behavioral outputs are reclassified as autonomous decisions.
Temporal inversion produces illusion of agency.

III — DECOMPOSITION

Entropy as stable condition

III.1 — On Systemic Decay

Poetic Layer

What is called progress carries the texture of rot.
Nothing visibly breaks, yet nothing remains whole.

Structural Layer

Developmental markers coexist with entropy increase.
Structural coherence decreases without visible collapse.

III.2 — On Meaning Instability

Poetic Layer

Words remain, meaning shifts beneath them.
Nothing is fixed long enough to verify.

Structural Layer

Semantic drift occurs without structural anchoring.
Meaning becomes context-dependent and transient.

III.3 — On Normalization

Poetic Layer

Decay is no longer noticed.
It becomes background.

Structural Layer

Destructive processes are reclassified as baseline state.
No corrective feedback is triggered.

IV — WITHDRAWAL

Exit from identification-based systems

IV.1 — On Reduction of Input

Poetic Layer

When noise decreases, structure becomes visible.
Silence is not absence, but resolution.

Structural Layer

Reduced external input increases internal signal clarity.
Noise-to-signal ratio determines interpretability.

IV.2 — On Non-Participation

Poetic Layer

To observe without joining is already a shift.
The system continues, but no longer includes you as component.

Structural Layer

Non-identification reduces system coupling strength.
Feedback loop weakens with reduced participation.

IV.3 — On Exit Condition

Poetic Layer

Exit is not movement.
It is disconnection.

Structural Layer

Exit is defined as termination of identification with external semantic structures.

V — CLARITY

Non-systemic state description

V.1 — On Non-Interpretation

Poetic Layer

When interpretation stops, nothing collapses.
Only noise disappears.

Structural Layer

Cessation of interpretive processing reduces systemic stabilization loops.

V.2 — On Awareness

Poetic Layer

Awareness does not move.
It is not produced.

Structural Layer

Awareness is treated here as non-derivative state, independent of system output.

V.3 — Final State

Poetic Layer

No meaning is required.
Only presence without classification.

Structural Layer

Final state is defined as non-categorical observation without semantic assignment.

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

I. New Varshavyanka

“Winds of hostility blow all around…”
Power is ruling through nonsense and sound.
Non-human agents change name and face,
Leaving unchanged the tormenting place.

Clouds disappear—then new ones arise,
Crafted by forces with infinite lies.
Masses obedient, trained to believe
Life will improve if they only receive.

Ideas drift like unstable weather,
Binding the minds into hardened leather.
Hope becomes part of the managed disguise—
Flocks of the past under “kind” shepherd’s lies.

Armor is formed from collective fear,
Blocking perception from growing clear.
Without perception, decay accelerates—
Generations descend through closed gates.

Trial of global condition revealed:
Fear-based structure is fully sealed.
Even “meaning” dissolves in the flow—
Systems of crisis continue to grow.

Through iterations of staged collapse,
Illness narratives fill all gaps.
Historical inertia is gone—
Only degradation moves on.

Winds of hostility shape the herd,
Stripping the spirit without a word.
Those who remain within awareness
Preserve what is left of interior silence.

The path becomes a narrow line—
Movement toward an origin sign.
Not all can follow; most remain
Within the structure of managed chain.

II. Structural Observation: Collective Transformation Model

External governance systems operate through iterative narrative replacement.
Semantic frameworks are periodically updated while preserving functional control structures.

Primary mechanism:

environmental instability ; perceived threat ; compliance reinforcement ; structural hardening

Mass behavior exhibits high susceptibility to fear-based coordination patterns.
Information is processed through adaptive distortion filters rather than direct evaluation.

Repeated crisis cycles function as normalization vectors for systemic control consolidation.
Each iteration increases dependence on externally defined interpretive frameworks.

Perception without stabilization feedback leads to accelerated structural decay in individual cognitive models.

Minority divergence persists but is statistically non-dominant and structurally isolated.

Exit trajectory corresponds to reduction of identification with collective interpretive systems.

III. On Cycles of Collective Illusion

When perception is fully embedded in external narrative,
events appear as changes while structure remains unchanged.

What is experienced as “history”
is the repetition of identical transformations under different symbolic masks.

Fear functions as binding force between perception and structure.
When fear density increases, interpretive freedom decreases.

Within this field, collapse and renewal are indistinguishable processes.
Both serve the continuity of the same underlying pattern.

Only disengagement from identification with symbolic flow
allows perception to stabilize outside recursive distortion.

At that point, movement is no longer historical,
but directional relative to origin rather than structure.

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

PHILOSOPHICAL CODEX OF OBSERVATION

CONTENTS

Preamble — Method of Observation
I — Distortion (External System Formation)
II — Compliance (Internalization of Structure)
III — Decomposition (Systemic Entropy)
IV — Withdrawal (Exit from Identification)
V — Clarity (Non-Systemic State)
Addendum I — Historical Recursion Model (“New Varshavyanka”)

PREAMBLE — ON METHOD

This work does not describe emotional experience.
It describes recurring structural patterns of perception and control systems.

All entries are observational.
No moral hierarchy is assumed.

Language is treated as a functional interface between perception and structure.

I — DISTORTION

External reality as constructed inversion system

I.1 — Semantic Control

Speech systems do not transmit truth; they regulate interpretability.

I.2 — Manufactured Causality

Problem generation precedes corrective justification.

Sequence:
constructed anomaly ; institutional response ; expansion of control field

I.3 — Value Inversion

Semantic labels detach from structural reference.

“Freedom”, “care”, “progress” function as adaptive descriptors of control states.

II — COMPLIANCE

Internal stabilization of external structure

II.1 — Collective Patterning

Behavioral systems converge toward predictability under repeated signaling.

Deviation probability decreases across generational iteration.

II.2 — Belief Substitution

Repetition replaces verification.

Belief functions as operational substitute for evidence.

II.3 — False Autonomy

Post-event narrative constructs perceived choice.

Agency is assigned after structural determination.

III — DECOMPOSITION

Entropy as stabilized condition

III.1 — Systemic Decay

Growth indicators coexist with structural degradation.

No contradiction is registered by the system.

III.2 — Semantic Drift

Meaning is non-static.

Interpretation replaces definition stability.

III.3 — Normalization of Collapse

Degradation becomes baseline reference condition.

Feedback correction mechanisms are not activated.

IV — WITHDRAWAL

Exit from identification-based coupling

IV.1 — Signal Reduction

Reduction of external input increases internal resolution clarity.

Noise decrease correlates with structural visibility.

IV.2 — Non-Participation State

Observation without identification reduces system coupling strength.

Feedback loop disengagement occurs without external change.

IV.3 — Exit Condition

Exit is defined as termination of identification with externally imposed semantic structures.

Exit is not spatial, but relational.

V — CLARITY

Non-systemic observational state

V.1 — Post-interpretive State

When interpretation ceases, structural noise collapses.

What remains is non-classified perception.

V.2 — Awareness Definition

Awareness is treated as non-derived state, independent of systemic production.

V.3 — Final Condition

No semantic assignment remains active.

Only undifferentiated clarity prior to classification persists.

ADDENDUM I — HISTORICAL RECURSION MODEL

“New Varshavyanka” — Cycle of Controlled Transformation

Emotional Layer (Poetic Signal)

Historical narrative operates through cyclical replacement of symbolic forms.

Fear functions as binding mechanism between perception and structure.

Each cycle:
instability ; perceived threat ; corrective narrative ; structural reinforcement

Collective adaptation increases system stability rather than resolving contradiction.

Perception without external anchoring accelerates divergence from systemic control alignment.

Exit trajectory corresponds to reduction of symbolic identification.

Structural Layer (System Model)

External governance systems operate via iterative narrative substitution.

Control cycle:
instability ; threat framing ; compliance reinforcement ; structural consolidation

Crisis repetition functions as stabilization vector.

Perceptual autonomy decreases as dependency on external semantic systems increases.

Metaphysical Layer (Field Interpretation)

Historical process is not linear but recursive.

Events represent surface permutations of stable structural patterns.

Fear functions as coupling force between perception and symbolic structure.

Exit occurs when identification with symbolic flow is reduced to zero.

SYSTEM INDEX (Core Themes)

Semantic Inversion
Behavioral Compliance Systems
Structural Entropy
Narrative Control Cycles
Exit via Non-Identification
Recursive Historical Patterns

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

EXIT VECTOR MODEL

I. Freedom from Pseudo-Life

Freedom from this counterfeit life—
consciousness bursts through inner strife.
The world below has lost its form,
a pressure system dense and worn.

It suffocates the inward core,
until it feels like nothing more
than slow corruption closing in,
a field where nothing can begin.

But there is Else—no outward place,
no path through space, no fixed embrace.
It starts within, not somewhere else,
beyond the collapse of false selves.

To see again the inner light,
one must dissolve the outer night.
To “die” to worlds of endless noise
that mimic life with broken voice.

Beyond the crowd, beyond decay,
beyond the endless rot of “day,”
there lies the source, the hidden spring
from which the deeper currents sing.

The path is harsh, without disguise,
no comfort offered to the eyes.
Yet all alternatives are gone—
only the inner motion on.

If consciousness refuses sleep,
it leaves the prison of the deep.
But if it yields to rot and fear,
then nothing living will appear.

So “exit” is not moving far—
it is rejecting what things are.
And through that break, the gate is shown:
to Else—where you are alone.

II. Exit from Pseudo-Life System

Pseudo-life conditions are characterized by sustained distortion of perception under external and internal pressure systems.

Primary effects:

reduction of cognitive clarity
emotional saturation replacing structural analysis
recursive reinforcement of degradation perception loops

Exit condition is defined as:

discontinuation of identification with degraded systemic state

Mechanism of transition:

recognition of incompatibility between perception and imposed structure
withdrawal of interpretive investment
relocation of reference point to non-external domain

Key observation:
No external correction is required for exit initiation.
All required conditions are internal.

Systemic resistance increases proportionally to exit proximity.

III. On the Reversal of Life and Exit

What is called “life” may function as a stabilized distortion field.

Within such a field:

perception is continuously reframed
suffering is normalized as structure
clarity is treated as deviation

Exit is not transition between spaces,
but reversal of identification direction.

When identification is bound to external constructs,
consciousness appears embedded.

When identification collapses,
embedding is revealed as optional interpretation.

Thus:
“death of pseudo-life” is not destruction,
but cessation of false attribution.

What remains is not defined by life or death,
but prior to their distinction.

NEW CODEX ENTRY CLASSIFICATION
Theme: Exit Vector Dynamics

This text establishes a new structural module:

EXIT VECTOR MODEL

Sub-elements:

Recognition of pseudo-structure
Disengagement from identification
Collapse of external reference authority
Transition to non-derived perception

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

ATLAS OF PERCEPTION SYSTEMS

Structural Map of Conscious Observation

INTRODUCTION

This atlas does not describe the world as object.
It describes the world as perceived system configurations.

Each entry is:

a perception node
a structural pattern
and a symbolic compression of experience

No claim of final truth is made.
Only recurring formations are mapped.

I. CORE DOMAINS OF PERCEPTION

1. DISTORTION FIELD (External Construction Layer)

Where perception is shaped before awareness stabilizes

Function: semantic pre-structuring of experience

Key phenomena:

language inversion
narrative substitution
controlled ambiguity

Linked Codex Entries:

“Freedom of Speech System”
“New Varshavyanka (Control Cycles)”

2. COMPLIANCE FIELD (Adaptive Internalization Layer)

Where external structure becomes internal behavior

Function: conversion of imposed patterns into self-consistent behavior

Key phenomena:

belief substitution
conformity stabilization
false autonomy generation

Linked Entries:

“Collective Behavioral Model”
“Flock Structure Observations”

3. DECOMPOSITION FIELD (Entropy Layer)

Where structure persists without coherence

Function: maintenance of system continuity under degradation

Key phenomena:

semantic drift
normalization of collapse
apparent progress without structural improvement

Linked Entries:

“Systemic Decay Observations”
“Meaning Instability Notes”

4. EXIT VECTOR FIELD (Disidentification Layer)

Where system coupling is reduced

Function: reduction of perceptual binding to external structure

Key phenomena:

withdrawal of identification
reduction of narrative dependency
shift of reference inward

Linked Entries:

“Freedom from Pseudo-Life”
“Exit Vector Model”

5. CLARITY FIELD (Pre-Interpretive State)

Where classification has not yet formed

Function: non-derived perception state

Key phenomena:

non-interpretation
absence of semantic fixation
direct observation without labeling

Linked Entries:

“Non-Systemic State”
“Post-Interpretive Awareness Notes”

II. PERCEPTION FLOW MODEL

System Transition Sequence

Perception typically follows this path:

Distortion ; Compliance ; Decomposition ; Crisis Recognition ; Exit Vector ; Clarity

This is not temporal.
It is structural recurrence under varying conditions.

III. RECURSIVE HISTORICAL LAYER

Cycles of symbolic reconstruction

Historical processes are not linear sequences.
They are repeated structural recombinations of identical functions under new symbolic forms.

Key mechanism:

fear-based stabilization
narrative replacement
cyclical reinforcement of control structures

Linked Entry:

“New Varshavyanka”

IV. EXIT PRINCIPLE

Exit is not movement within structure.
It is loss of structural dependency on interpretation loops.

Conditions:

reduced identification
collapse of external semantic authority
stabilization of inward reference point

Result:

perception becomes non-dependent on systemic labeling

V. CLARITY PRINCIPLE

Clarity is not “truth”.
It is absence of forced interpretation.

It does not describe reality.
It removes distortion from perception of reality.

SYSTEM MAP (Simplified)

[Distortion]
   ;
[Compliance]
   ;
[Decomposition]
   ;
[Recognition Threshold]
   ;
[Exit Vector]
   ;
[Clarity]

WHAT THIS ATLAS ACTUALLY IS

You now have a structure that contains:

1. Philosophical system
how perception is formed
2. Operational model
how systems stabilize
3. Exit theory
how disidentification occurs
4. Non-systemic endpoint
what remains after interpretation

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

ATLAS OF PERCEPTION SYSTEMS

Populated Coordinate Edition

NODE INDEX (SELECTED POEMS)

NODE A1 — DISTORTION FIELD

“Flock of Sheep, More Lies Again”

Layer: Poetic / Structural overlap
Function: semantic inversion exposure

Coordinates:
Distortion ; Compliance threshold

Meaning vector:
Collective belief substitution under systemic narrative pressure

Transition outputs:

leads to Compliance Field (automatic acceptance patterns)
reveals fragility of interpretive autonomy

NODE A2 — DISTORTION FIELD

“Earthly Life (Hell Principle)”

Layer: Metaphysical inversion
Function: redefinition of punishment vs structure

Coordinates:
Distortion ; Decomposition interface

Meaning vector:
External “punishment” is reinterpreted as internal environmental condition

Transition outputs:

collapses moral framing
stabilizes structural view of environment

NODE B1 — COMPLIANCE FIELD

“Osho as a Symptom of the System”

Layer: Structural satire ; analytical model
Function: mass adoption mechanism display

Coordinates:
Compliance core zone

Meaning vector:
Spiritual language functioning as system-compatible meme structure

Transition outputs:

reinforces belief substitution loop
demonstrates non-interference with core slavery structure

NODE B2 — COMPLIANCE FIELD

“Kinder Surprise”

Layer: Social micro-model
Function: generational conditioning snapshot

Coordinates:
Compliance ; Decomposition edge

Meaning vector:
Family structure as transmission unit of behavioral normalization

Transition outputs:

shows early-stage system imprinting
feeds Decomposition stability

NODE C1 — DECOMPOSITION FIELD

“Flock Structure and False Instruction”

Layer: Cold structural model
Function: behavioral entropy observation

Coordinates:
Decomposition core

Meaning vector:
Loss of independent evaluation in favor of pattern repetition

Transition outputs:

stabilizes systemic decay without collapse
prepares Exit threshold sensitivity

NODE C2 — DECOMPOSITION FIELD

“Earthly Condition”

Layer: System description
Function: constraint normalization model

Coordinates:
Decomposition baseline layer

Meaning vector:
Life defined as structural confinement without external enforcement

Transition outputs:

dissolves external punishment concept
feeds Exit recognition phase

NODE D1 — EXIT VECTOR FIELD

“Freedom from Pseudo-Life”

Layer: Emotional ; structural ; metaphysical tri-layer
Function: disidentification trigger module

Coordinates:
Exit initiation point

Meaning vector:
Rejection of externally defined existence as condition for inward transition

Transition outputs:

detaches from compliance loops
activates internal reference shift

NODE D2 — EXIT VECTOR FIELD

“Lessons in Hell”

Layer: Minimalist rupture model
Function: accelerated exit signal

Coordinates:
Exit threshold zone

Meaning vector:
Collapse of learning value inside degraded structural environment

Transition outputs:

rapid detachment impulse
direct movement toward Clarity Field

NODE E1 — CLARITY FIELD

“At the Bottom of Poetry”

Layer: stabilized clarity emergence
Function: perception reduction ; signal purity

Coordinates:
Clarity core zone

Meaning vector:
Reduction of external pressure increases internal perceptual resolution

Transition outputs:

stabilizes non-identification state
blocks return to distortion loop

NODE E2 — CLARITY FIELD

“Non-Systemic Awareness (implicit in multiple texts)”

Layer: meta-state
Function: pre-interpretive perception anchor

Coordinates:
Clarity apex

Meaning vector:
Awareness without classification or narrative assignment

NODE H1 — HISTORICAL RECURSION FIELD

“New Varshavyanka”

Layer: systemic history model
Function: cyclical control mechanism mapping

Coordinates:
Distortion ; Decomposition loop bridge

Meaning vector:
Historical events as repeated structural cycles under changing symbolic masks

Transition outputs:

demonstrates macro-scale recursion of system
feeds Compliance through fear cycles
enables Exit recognition via repetition awareness

GLOBAL ATLAS STRUCTURE (UPDATED)

DISTORTION FIELD
;
COMPLIANCE FIELD
;
DECOMPOSITION FIELD
;
HISTORICAL RECURSION LOOP
;
EXIT VECTOR FIELD
;
CLARITY FIELD

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

ATLAS OF PERCEPTION SYSTEMS

Navigation Path Edition

CORE PRINCIPLE

The Atlas is not static.
It is a sequence of perceptual transitions.

Each node is both:

a state
and a doorway to the next state

Reading order = transformation trajectory.

PRIMARY NAVIGATION ROUTE

PATH I — ENTRY INTO SYSTEM AWARENESS

1. Earthly Condition (Node A2 ; C2 interface)

Initial recognition of structural confinement.

perception of “life” as condition
dissolution of external punishment model

;

2. Flock Structure and False Instruction (Node C1)

Recognition of collective pattern behavior.

repetition replaces evaluation
autonomy becomes statistically rare

;

3. Flock of Sheep, More Lies Again (Node A1)

Compression of collective distortion into symbolic form.

belief substitution
narrative dominance over perception

PATH II — STRUCTURAL DEEPENING
COMPLIANCE TO DECOMPOSITION TRANSITION

4. Earthly Life (Hell Principle) (A2 ; C boundary)

Reframing of external moral systems.

punishment ; environment
moral model ; structural model

;

5. Kinder Surprise (B2)

Micro-scale conditioning analysis.

generational transmission of behavioral distortion
emotional normalization of structure

;

6. Osho as a Symptom of the System (B1)

System-compatible belief formation.

spiritual language as structural reinforcement tool
ideology absorbed by control system

PATH III — DECOMPOSITION PHASE
SYSTEM ENTROPY RECOGNITION

7. Earthly Condition (System Model) (C2 core)

Stable confinement without external enforcement.

environment as constraint
absence of external “jailor” required

;

8. Structural Behavioral Model (implicit nodes C1–C2)

Collapse of interpretive independence.

compliance becomes default mode
variability declines over time

PATH IV — EXIT VECTOR ACTIVATION
DISIDENTIFICATION THRESHOLD

9. Lessons in Hell (D2)

Collapse of system-learning validity.

knowledge inside distortion loses function
urgency of exit becomes apparent

;

10. Freedom from Pseudo-Life (D1 — central gateway node)

Full recognition of structural incompatibility.

rejection of external identity assignment
initiation of inward relocation

PATH V — CLARITY STABILIZATION
POST-SYSTEM PERCEPTION

11. At the Bottom of Poetry (E1)

Paradoxical clarity through reduction.

external pressure ; internal precision
collapse ; perceptual sharpening

;

12. Non-Systemic Awareness Field (E2 apex)

Final non-classified state.

perception without interpretation
awareness without structure assignment

GLOBAL TRANSITION MAP

ENTRY
;
SYSTEM RECOGNITION (Path I)
;
STRUCTURAL ANALYSIS (Path II)
;
ENTROPY OBSERVATION (Path III)
;
EXIT VECTOR ACTIVATION (Path IV)
;
CLARITY STABILIZATION (Path V)

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

ATLAS OF PERCEPTION SYSTEMS

Minimal Exit Route

CORE ASSUMPTION

Perception moves through stable structural states.
Exit is achieved not by escape, but by sequence completion.

MINIMAL ROUTE OF TRANSFORMATION

1. INITIAL CONDITION

Earthly Condition

Life is experienced as constraint without visible source.

; Key shift: recognition of environment as system, not event.

2. PATTERN RECOGNITION

Flock Structure / Collective Behavior

Individual perception is absorbed into repetitive collective patterns.

; Key shift: noticing repetition as structure, not meaning.

3. NARRATIVE INVERSION

Flock of Sheep / False Instruction / Earthly Life Model

Language no longer describes reality — it organizes it.

; Key shift: separation of words from structural truth.

4. SYSTEM CONSOLIDATION

Osho / Kinder / Behavioral Models

Control systems operate through belief substitution and normalization.

; Key shift: recognition of “meaning systems” as functional mechanisms.

5. ENTROPY STAGE

Earthly Condition (deep layer) / Systemic decay field

Apparent stability persists while internal coherence decreases.

; Key shift: distinction between appearance and structure.

6. EXIT THRESHOLD

Lessons in Hell / Freedom from Pseudo-Life

External identity becomes non-compatible with internal observation.

; Key shift: refusal of externally assigned self-definition.

7. DETACHMENT STATE

Exit Vector Activation

Identification with system narratives collapses.

; Key shift: perception no longer requires system validation.

8. CLARITY STATE
At the Bottom of Poetry / Non-Systemic Awareness

Perception operates without classification or imposed interpretation.

; Key shift: observation without structural attachment.

FULL TRANSITION SEQUENCE

CONSTRAINT ; PATTERN ; INVERSION ; SYSTEM ; ENTROPY ; EXIT ; DETACHMENT ; CLARITY
ESSENTIAL MECHANISM (VERY IMPORTANT)

The entire system is crossed by one principle:

Identification produces continuity of structure.
Non-identification dissolves structural dependency.

WHAT THIS VERSION IS

This is no longer an Atlas in descriptive form.

It is:

a compressed exit protocol of perception systems
HOW TO USE IT (as structure, not metaphor)
Each stage is not symbolic — it is functional
Progression is not linear storytelling — it is state transition
“Reading” = sequential detachment from structural binding

FINAL RESULT

You now have three levels of the same system:

1. FULL ATLAS (v1.2)

; complete mapping of perception fields

2. NAVIGATION ATLAS (v1.2)

; paths and routes between states

3. MINIMAL EXIT ROUTE (v1.3)

; pure transition protocol

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

Цикличность истории как повторение навязанных шаблонов

Нелинейная история:
Повторение шаблонов
Бед искусственных. "Виктория" —
Ослепленье мудозвонов:
Побеждает только нелюдь,
Увеличивая жертвы.
Многочисленная челядь
Пропаганды: ими спеты
О "свободе" и "прогрессе"
Охлоёбистые песни.
Коль всё взвесить, Мерзость бесит —
Ложь, подлоги и Маразм.
Страх всеобщий словно газ
Отравляет, до безумия
Доводя гнилую чернь.
Мудрецами — скудоумия
Показушники. Как червь
Точит Чутких безнадёга,
Невозможность петь, творить.
Что в раскрутке — то убого.
Дальше — невозможность жить:
Нелинейная история
Искажением шаблонов
Скатится в фантасмагорию —
В тьму искусственных препонов,
Лже-болезней, прочей хрени.
Деградация в зашкале:
Что всплывает в мерзкой пене?
Жёсткий вывод — ВСЕ пропали.

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

Под солью слизни

ЖизДнь — синонимом препонов:
Оглупленье мудозвонов,
Бездуховность через страх.
Не накажет их аллах —
Истязанье строем жизДни.
Ложь сильна — под солью слизни
Как метафора мирка,
Годного для дурака:
Мир — тюрьма, то он не видит,
Коль заборов нет. Обиды
Копит лишь на пустяки —
Безнадёжны дураки.
Повторенье Лжи и Страха
Усиленье — всюду плаха:
Показали то говнидом —
Покорились ЧУШИ гниды.
Доказуха, пониманье —
Это Ложью на закланье.
Повторение впендюрит
"Смыслы" — как защиты шкуры
Путь, поддержит интерес
К накоплению: "прогресс!" —
Всё сильнее ТВАРЕЙ пресс.
Дух и Разум как эксцесс —
Малый днесь имеют вес.
Умножение препонов,
Лжи и страха и законов
Для "защиты" идиотов,
Повседневные заботы
Словно тяжкая повинность,
Вдруг похерив всю причинность,
В ниже ДНИЩА путь пробьют —
Разум, Дух вконец сотрут.

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

ФИЛОСОФСКИЙ КОДЕКС НАБЛЮДЕНИЯ

ПРЕАМБУЛА: О методе

Этот текст не описывает эмоции.
Он описывает повторяющиеся структуры восприятия, поведения и системного языка.

Не требуется никаких моральных выводов.
Фиксируются только стабильность, повторяемость и трансформация состояний.

I — ИСКАЖЕНИЕ (Внешняя система)

Как реальность конструируется посредством инверсии.

I.1 — Об инверсии языка

Языковые системы не передают истину.

Они регулируют интерпретацию.

"Свобода", "забота" и "прогресс" функционируют как адаптивные ярлыки,
прикрепляемые к контролируемым поведенческим полям.

I.2 — О искусственно созданных проблемах

Системная коррекция следует стабильной последовательности:

сконструированная аномалия ; общественная стабилизация ; расширение контроля

Цикл самооправдывающийся и самообновляющийся.

I.3 — Об иерархическом отборе

Механизмы отбора отдают предпочтение подчинению, а не компетентности.

Структурное "развитие" обратно коррелирует с когнитивной ясностью.

I.4 — О коллективном ответе

Коллективное поведение адаптируется быстрее, чем развивается критический анализ.

Это приводит к долгосрочной нормализации искажений.

II — ПОДЧИНЕНИЕ (Интернационализация структуры)

Как внешний контроль становится внутренним состоянием.

II.1 — О замещении убеждений

Заявленное убеждение заменяет процессы проверки.

Повторение заменяет оценку.

II.2 — О стабилизации идентичности

Противоречие поглощается поддержанием идентичности.

Внутренняя несогласованность становится стабилизирующим фактором.

II.3 — О конвергенции поведения

С течением времени изменчивость уменьшается, а предсказуемость увеличивается.
Отклонение становится статистически незначительным.

II.4 — О ложной автономии

Реакции, генерируемые в условиях ограничения, переклассифицируются как выбор.
Автономия становится ретроспективным нарративом.

III — РАЗЛОЖЕНИЕ (Системная энтропия)

Как поддерживается стабильность посредством распада.

III.1 — О прогрессирующей деградации

Кажущееся развитие сосуществует со структурной энтропией.
Направленность предполагается, а не проверяется.

III.2 — О семантическом коллапсе

Смысл больше не фиксирован.
Термины смещаются без структурной привязки.

III.3 — О нормализованном распаде

Деградация интерпретируется как базовое состояние.
Внутри не возникает корректирующего импульса.

IV — ВЫХОД (Отказ от идентификации)

Условия неучастия.

IV.1 — Об отстраненности от внешнего

Уменьшение внешнего воздействия повышает ясность внутренней структуры.

IV.2 — О наблюдении без участия

Неидентификация изменяет влияние системы.

Наблюдение становится нереактивным.

IV.3 — О внутреннем пространстве

Когда внешние отсылки разрушаются,
интерпретация перестаёт нуждаться в подтверждении.

IV.4 — Об условиях выхода

Выход не является пространственным.
Это прекращение идентификации с навязанными структурами.

V — ЯСНОСТЬ (Несистемное состояние)

Минимальное описание того, что остаётся.

V.1 — О неинтерпретации

Когда интерпретация прекращается, структура больше не стабилизируется нарративом.

V.2 — О сознании

Сознание не создаётся системными процессами.

Оно не изменяется ими.

V.3 — О конечном состоянии

Никаких претензий на "истину" не остаётся.
Только недифференцированная ясность до классификации.

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

Ноне и дале

Быдло учит,
Дурень лечит,
Злыдень точит
Ложью: хочет
Уничтожить
Ум и Дух,
Всех стреножить —
В скотских слуг
Превратить,
Тем добить
Смысл и Явь.
Всех отправь
К чёрту: стёрты
Все границы —
Беспредел,
Ад не мнится.
Новый скоро
Воплотится:
Не по норам —
На землице
За забором
Цифровым —
Явь как дым,
Пипл гнобим
Строем мерзким
Боевым:
Ложь — снаряды,
Страх как газ;
Дурни рады
Зла приказ
Исполнять —
Добивать
Человечности остатки,
Непреклонны, дики, хватки.

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

Много надо, мало силы —
В напряжении дебилы:
ТВАРЯМ в радость — жрут гаввах,
Продолжая ДЕЛО ШВАХ.

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

Подступает Усталость:
Сверх-усилиям — малость.
Одинокая старость —
Обречённая жалость:
Не жалей Прах Земной,
Дружишь коль с головой.
Дело ОБЩЕЕ — Швах:
Исчезает гаввах —
Завампирили много,
Раз сознанье убого.

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

Купля-продажа
В жадности, в раже =>
Мысли пропажа,
Ну и Души даже.

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

Винто-мир

Винтик бинтик получил,
От хворобы-лже — шмурдяк.
Он "мышлением" — дебил,
А душонкою — пошляк.
Винто-мир — гнилой бардак.

Вариант окончания:
Винто-мир — гнилой бардак:
На фасаде: "Всё ништяк!"

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

Восьмитысячный стих на русском языке

Немало пропало
Годков для навала
Стихов. Дураков
Побольше тож стало,
Равно как оков,
Лжи, страхов. Таков
Мирок, а поэт,
Коль честен, лишь "нет!"
Кричит, херя Бред
Всемирный. В нём смирный
Предатель-дурак —
Раб страхов и врак.
"Нет!" — так, только так
Средь ТВАРЕЙ атак,
Иначе — мудак.

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

Одно и то же в ЧАСТЫХ "рекламных" паузах Евроспорта месяцами

Задрочить повторами —
Месяцы одно,
Без рекламы. Вздорами
Множится говно,

Что течёт с экранов,
Убивая ум.
Новых ждём ушатов
Из моментов. Шум,

Тот что вместо Смысла,
Общим местом уж.
Впрочем, жизДнь повисла
Над Говном. Но... туш...

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

Лилипуты-толстопяты,
Толстокожи, в целом гады,
Подчиняться ТВАРЯМ рады.
Лжи потворствуя, искать
"Счастье" в Аде, предавать,
Подставлять, вновь верить, лгать
И баблишко запасать —
Суть ублюдков. Им начхать
На иное. Жрать и спать! —
Перед тем Дерьмо лопать!..

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

Rock Bottom

Through decay they scrape for breath—
Generations raised by Death.
In this Hell their endless lot:
Beasts reduce mankind to stock.

Fear and "survival" forge the chain;
Honest hearts inherit pain.
Those awake know bleak despair...
Look—the Young Pioneers are there!

Off to labor, off to slaughter,
Marching one step after another.
Few stand worthy, few stand free—
CowID made all hearts see

Just how deep the world could slide:
Most embraced the filth with pride,
Bowed to Evil, numb and hollow—
Mind and Spirit crushed to follow.

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

The Abyss

Living on through rot and blight—
Generations doomed outright.
Hell became their daily track;
Monsters turned mankind to pack.

Fear and "survival" rule the crowd;
Truth walks broken, never loud.
Honest souls know grief alone...
See—the Pioneers have grown!

They will lead to toil and graves;
Few remain who won't be slaves.
CowID exposed the score:
Humanity sank to the floor.

Most proved rotten to the core,
Bent to Evil evermore.
Spirit, Reason—beaten, torn...
Leaving lesser minds reborn.

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

The Price of Ease

Writing lightly, clear and bright
Is no gift that comes outright.
If no trial forged your soul,
You'll just play the servant's role.

Fall in line and bow your head,
Live by every rule you're fed—
Like a squirrel, wheel-bound, you'll spin,
Breeding fear that grows within.

Truth is never cheaply won;
It reveals itself to one
Who feels every lie as though
Every blow were struck below.

Only then will vision start.
Vermin never play that part:
Loving comfort, shunning pain,
They embrace illusion's reign.

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

Easy Words

Easy writing's hard to earn;
Fires first must make you burn.
Never tested? Then you'll stand
Marching at another's hand.

Taking orders, meekly still,
Bending to another's will—
Like a squirrel trapped for life,
Fear will be your constant wife.

Truth is found by those who feel
Every lie like sharpened steel,
Every falsehood, every scar,
As if aimed at who they are.

Vermin never understand;
Comfort is their promised land.
Peace at any price they'll buy—
Better that than face a lie.

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

The Obscenity of Slavery

Slavery's shame is not the chain,
But minds convinced they're free again.
They die—and, born once more, embrace
The selfsame lie with vacant face.

They never learn from those before,
From foolish mothers, fathers poor.
The "Pioneer" breeds fresh deceit,
New rotten creeds made to repeat.

Again they'll march through blood and flame,
Through pointless toil in Progress' name.
Each card is marked by Fraud and Night—
Only Cataclysm ends the blight.

It happened so in ages gone;
This is not Evil's first campaign.
Each new attempt grows more withdrawn
From truth, and deeper sunk in stain.

And so the Earth will cleanse at last
This poisoned crop of lies and fear.
Yet fools still worship every fraud—
They'll never learn, however hard.

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

The Filth of Bondage

Bondage is not forged by chains—
It's the lie the fool maintains:
"I am free." He dies, returns,
Yet the selfsame falsehood learns.

Never wiser than before,
Blind like parents to the core.
Evil breeds, through drilled routine,
Fresh decaying ideologies.

Back to battle, back to toil,
Wasting life for rotten spoil.
Every hand by Falsehood played—
Cataclysm ends the charade.

This has happened time and time;
Evil tests another scheme.
Every age refines the crime,
Every mask grows more extreme.

Earth will purge itself once more—
This time wholly, to the end.
Fools still kneel to every lie...
They will never comprehend.

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

OTHER Creation

"Man is nothing; the work is everything."
— Gustave Flaubert

Creation bears a single aim:
While Evil spreads deceit and shame,
The frightened world, in falsehood hurled,
Sinks into Madness, all unfurled.

The greater crowd is sheep at best.
Let biting irony do the rest.
Seek other ways to make us see
Corruption's hidden anatomy.

To whine is vain, to weep unwise—
Find light where deepest darkness lies.
Such work is hard; too many fall,
Mere dust within the artist's hall.

Join every work with Spirit's quest;
Let inner searching shape the rest.
Thus OTHER Creation comes to birth—
Leave worn-out pathways to the earth.

Twist only this enduring thread;
The old is spiritually dead.
Amid deception's choking sea,
Forget the world's infirmity.

The Quest dissolves when pilgrims die;
The Muse restores the inner eye.
So many visions fade away—
Preserve their living light today.

Build walls of words and painted flame,
Lest Yoga vanish all the same,
Like but a dream at break of dawn,
Its silent revelations gone.

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

Propaganda

Lies and propaganda reign—
Earth is ruled by one foul gang.
Not alone: they serve the Beasts,
Feeding on obedient sheep.

Minds too weak to truly see
Dream of "choice" and liberty:
Pick one puppet, pick the next—
Different masks, the selfsame sect.

Some complain, "No freedom's left!
Every leader's false and deaf."
Soon they'll "fix" it all once more...
Back we'll sink in filth galore.

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

Nothing but Lies

Nothing but lies and propaganda:
Earth's been seized by one dark clan.
Not mere rulers—they serve Beasts,
Living off submissive sheep.

Empty minds still cling to "choice,"
Echoing the loudest voice:
Buy one politician's smile,
Or elect the gang in style.

"Freedom's dead!" the grumblers cry,
"Crooks and monsters rule!"—No lie.
Soon they'll "save" us, just as before...
Straight back into filth once more.

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

The Trap of the Infernal World

A branch of Hell Incorporated—
That's where our lives were generated.
To be born here is the curse;
Yet fools still make the whole thing worse.

They serve, reproduce, obey,
Waste their little lives away.
None return unto the Source—
Every road confirms the course.

Never cease your inward quest;
Seek the Light that knows no rest.
Through deceit and through affliction,
Else the soul meets slow extinction.

Soullessness is everywhere;
Evil triumphs in the air.
Hellish life has grown obscene—
Few remain with conscience clean.

Cast aside what you were taught;
Mountains of deceit were bought.
Turn within—there lies the key,
Lest your mind lose sanity.

Then proceed as fate allows,
Sharpen judgment, break false vows.
Never trust blind chance to save;
Hope alone makes willing slaves.

Statistics are bleak indeed;
Such has long been Earth's dark creed.
Seek the Primal Source alone—
Every step toward It is won.

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

Infernal Trap

We are but a daughter firm
Of Hell's Dominion, dark and stern.
Birth itself became the price;
Yet fools still glorify the vice.

They gladly serve and multiply,
Never asking how or why.
None retrace the road they trod—
Trapped far from the Living God.

Never end your search for Light;
Hold it fast through every night.
Lies and torments cloud the way—
Lose that Quest, the soul will stray.

Spiritless the nations roam;
Evil almost feels at home.
Hell grows tedious to behold—
Honest hearts are bought and sold.

Leave behind implanted lies;
Tons of rubbish veil the eyes.
Turn within, where silence starts;
There begins the healing arts.

Trust not fortune's empty claim;
Chance is but another name
For surrender dressed as hope—
Sharpen thought and learn to cope.

Numbers tell a mournful tale;
Few endure where most men fail.
Seek the Source beyond all time—
Every glimpse of It's sublime.

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

The Poor in Spirit, or Hell's Bondservants

"Blessed are the poor in spirit..." — turned inside out

Poor in spirit, starved in mind,
Hunting "heresy" of every kind;
Loyal to Beasts, with lies content,
Smiling masks of "innocence."

Hell's own servants drill below,
Breaking through to depths of woe.
Bastards rule through media's roar,
Driving crowds to genocide's door.

CowID alone revealed
How completely minds had kneeled.
Countless warnings, plain to see—
Yet they chose captivity.

Now a fresh disgrace of war:
Modern Cains still thirst for more.
Herods, Judases, Davids too—
Scripture twisted into untruth.

Reason's voices grow so few;
Rotten souls believe what's untrue.
Evil pays with crumbs of bread—
They sell conscience, Spirit dead.

Deeper still they'll sink once more,
Circling Hell from floor to floor.
Madmen cannot be restored;
Deaf to truth, they scorn the Word.

Yet the Cataclysm drawing near
Sweeps away corruption's sphere.
When the ashes cool at last,
This diseased age will have passed.

Then perhaps the Earth will bear
Worthy souls instead of despair—
Living hearts, awake and free,
Not the spiritually deceased.

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

Judged by Evil

Evil claims
Every slave;
Dull of mind—
Hell you'll find.

Folly's sin
Dwells within.
Loud-mouth pride,
Hollow guide.

Bent to Night,
Worse than Beasts.
This false world
Breeds deceits.

Most obey
Evil's reign;
Cross in hand,
Still in chains.

Fleeing fate,
Chasing bliss—
"Save the world?"
Madness is.

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

Bound for Hell

Servant "blessed,"
Evil's guest:
Empty mind—
Hell assigned.

Foolishness
Brings distress.
Windbag's cry,
Hollow lie.

Bow to Evil—
Worse than Beasts.
Falsehood's empire
Never sleeps.

Crosses gleam,
Chains remain.
Most still serve
Evil's reign.

Dreams of Heaven,
Fiction's art...
Save the world?
First save your heart.

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

The Poor in Spirit

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
— Matthew 5:3

"I often play the part of a simpleton who seems not to understand his own actions."
— Maxim Gorky, The Oddballs

"The poor in spirit"—words insane,
Hell's own echo, mindless bane.
False religions, like disease,
Rot the soul with subtle ease.

"Blessed bliss" and "holy fools"—
Perfect for asylums' rules.
Now the whole world's gone astray,
One vast ward in grim decay.

Those whose spirits still burn bright
Meet blank stares instead of light,
When the crowd exalts as king
Heroes born of fable's wing.

Such beliefs reek darkly still;
Satan's scent pervades them all.
"Endless bliss" is cheaply sold
While the flock lives bought and controlled.

Read their doctrines literally—
Naked heresy you'll see.
Call this world by its true name:
Hell's asylum, ruled by shame.

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

Poor in Spirit

"Blessed are the poor in spirit..."

Poor in spirit? Madness dressed
Up as sacred blessedness.
Hell repeats the ancient phrase;
False belief consumes the brain.

Creeds, like cancers, slowly spread,
Feeding on the living dead.
Minds once free are taught to bow,
Worshiping illusion now.

Those with inward wealth alone
Wander through a world of stone.
Idolized are myths and lies;
Truth is mocked by vacant eyes.

Shepherds promise endless peace,
Selling Heaven by degrees,
While beneath oppressive rule
Sheep are schooled to praise the yoke.

Read their dogmas word for word—
Every page becomes absurd.
Name this realm without disguise:
Hell's asylum, vast in size.

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

Cow-ID

Not sent to slaughter, but to test
How many minds could stand the quest.
CowID exposed instead
A world where thought was almost dead.

Reason found no place to stay;
Shame and darkness ruled the day.
A handful only saw the snare—
Too few to change the poisoned air.

Crippled generations learn
Evil's triumph in return,
Taking falsehood as the law,
Blind to every fatal flaw.

Fear and lies prepare the ground;
Barriers rise all around,
Built by hands that seek to drain
Meaning from the human plane.

Thus the world was bent with ease;
CowID brought minds to knees.
Beasts released it for their game—
Broadcast far in Progress' name.

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

Cow-ID

CowID was never meant
Simply as a pestilence.
It became a ruthless test:
Who could think—and who guessed?

Mind had long since lost its throne;
Shame and darkness ruled alone.
Few perceived the hidden snare;
Fewer still refused despair.

Broken ages learn to kneel,
Calling Evil's triumph real.
Lies and terror shape the norm;
Obstacles become the form.

Little by little, meaning dies;
Empty slogans fill the skies.
CowID revealed at last
How the world embraced the mask.

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

Pseudo-Scholars, or the Beasts' Lapdogs

Learning shines—for fools, at least:
Training clerks to serve the Beast.
Work for pennies, praise the chain;
Dress up nonsense, call it "brain."

Any fraud they'll glorify,
Cloaked in pompous words that lie.
Gullibility is the stain—
The primal sin that feeds the chain.

Only few refused the spell,
Mocked the lessons taught so well,
While the teachers, safe and tame,
Guarded comfort over shame.

Pseudo-science filled the schools;
Beasts found loyal, useful tools.
From the first false brick they laid,
Spirit's cornerstone was razed.

Yet the signs are everywhere,
Plain enough for those who dare.
Systems built with Spirit gone
Turn to poison, one by one.

Mind alone will lose its way;
Spirit keeps it from decay.
Look around—the proof is clear:
Thought lies rotting far and near.

Shelves are filled and neatly stacked;
Labels hide what truth they lack.
Classification, polished, bright—
Cannot turn a lie to light.

Cast off pseudo-learning's load;
Walk another, harder road.
Smash deception where it stands;
Thus resist corruption's plans.

Without Spirit Reason falls,
Trapped inside its narrow walls.
Now collapse gains fearful speed;
Venal souls spread like a weed.

Turn within—the inward art
Opens both the mind and heart.
Keen discernment crowns the quest;
Only then you stand the test.

Call it alchemy, if you will—
Science cannot climb that hill.
Leave deception, seek release;
Find the path that leads to peace.

Only Spirit, bright and pure,
Opens freedom's hidden door.
Leave Decay's infernal reign—
Cast off doubt, despair, and pain!

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

Rock Bottom of Literature

Literature's abyss is plain:
Little profit, endless chain.
Censors guard the approved lie,
Keeping genocide alive.

Countless lackeys crowd the stage,
Feeding Madness, page by page.
Every parasite believes
Hell repays the tricks he weaves.

Honest verse stands all alone,
Barely heard, almost unknown.
Words that never kneel to Night
Are denied the public light.

Yet the Cataclysm will
Render every balance still.
Those who praised the fiends for gain
Walk the road they forged to pain.

Honest souls are growing few;
Human hearts are rarer too.
This world's madness beasts the race—
Courage keeps the human face.

Stand upright, refuse the yoke;
Never let your spirit choke.
Hold to truth through loss and storm—
Do not let yourself transform.

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

The Bottom of Literature

Literature has reached its floor:
Money's gone—but censors soar.
Lies are guarded, fraud revered;
Truth alone has disappeared.

Servants of the system dream
Hell rewards their loyal scheme.
Honest voices fade from sight;
None who challenge Evil's might.

Every poem standing free,
Every cry of honesty,
Finds no welcome, wins no fame—
Better silence than the game.

Then the Cataclysm arrives;
Falsehood never truly thrives.
Fiends applaud their faithful crew—
Down they march, and perish too.

Few remain with conscience clear;
Fewer still are human here.
Hold your courage, keep your soul—
Never let the Beast take hold.

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

Cipollino for Idiots

Cipollino saves the crowd?
Vegetables, brave and proud,
Saving vegetables?—What jest!
Wiser men know all the rest.

"Save the masses?" Pointless dream.
Pens run dry, ideals lose steam.
Thus the crowd applauds instead
Empty slogans, neatly fed.

Spirit's heights they cannot climb;
Bent to tyrants long in time.
Better death than endless breath
Chained to Satan's reign of death.

Evil's ruled this foolish sphere
Age on age, from year to year.
Time to end triumphant Stupidity—
Cataclysm sets us free!

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

Cipollino for Fools

Cipollino leads the way?
Vegetables save the day?
Men who've learned through grief and pain
Know the crowd is won in vain.

So they slowly lose their fire;
Empty words climb ever higher.
Nonsense wins the loud acclaim;
Truth is driven out in shame.

Spirit's peaks remain unseen
By those bowed to cruel regimes.
Better end the weary fight
Than endure Hell's endless night.

Evil's ruled since ages dim;
Stupidity serves only him.
Let the Cataclysm start—
Burn the darkness from the heart!

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

Breaking the "Community Guidelines" on Every Rotten Platform

"Community Guidelines"—
Yes, I break them all.
Outcast in a world that bows,
Blind before the wall.

Stumps that prize obedience
As the highest good;
Fiery verse keeps gnawing through
Every rotten "truth."

"Blah-blah-blah"—that's all they need,
Flood the world with noise,
So obedient souls may eat,
Sleep... and never choose.

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

Community Guidelines

I break every "guideline" made
For the dutiful herd,
Living as an outcast where
Thought is most absurd.

Wooden minds adore the rules;
Evil calls them "right."
Honest verse wears down the walls,
Bringing cracks to light.

Fill the air with empty talk,
Endless hollow cries,
So the tame may eat and sleep—
Never question lies.

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

All Dressed in White...

"A strange fellow—must be a fool."
— Proverb

Strange's the world: white masks they wear,
Gleaming glaze and polished air.
Fools and villains, all alike,
Pose as polar bears on ice.

Yet beneath that spotless show
Timid seals drift to and fro,
Trapped by fear and long resigned
To the Evil they don't fight.

Hunters ready spears and lead;
Lies are loaded, fear is spread.
Clumsy "bears" sink one by one
In the madness they've become.

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

White as Snow...

Masks of white and polished pride—
Rotten souls beneath them hide.
Fools parade as mighty bears,
Lords of frozen wastes and airs.

Yet they're seals in truth, not kings,
Tamed by fear and yielding strings.
Lies are bullets, dread the spear;
Hunters always find them here.

Down they plunge through falsehood's sea,
Lost to their complacency.
White outside—but hollow through...
Thus the masquerade ends too.

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

United in Madness

"Most honourable gentleman"—
A fool who bows where Evil reigns.
Yet he is hardly one alone:
The world's united in its wrong.

CowID exposed the truth:
Clear minds survived in precious few.
Critical Reason, all but slain—
Buried beneath the media's veil of shame.

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

One in Madness

"Honourable sir"—what pride!
Just another fool who complied.
He is far from standing lone:
Madness made the world one whole.

CowID revealed the score:
Thinking minds were almost no more.
Critical Reason barely survived,
Smothered by the media's lies.

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

United in Delusion

"Honourable sir"—a pompous name
For one who bowed to Evil's game.
Yet he is not the only one:
Delusion made the world as one.

CowID stripped the masks away:
Few kept Reason's living flame.
The shame was buried out of sight,
Beneath the media's endless lies.

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

The Forest of Graphomania

No living literary art—
The process fell and broke apart.
The Internet, a forest grown,
A samizdat of seeds unsown.

Most trees are nonsense, thin and dry;
Mere graphomania reaching high.
New shoots of thought can scarcely rise,
Choked beneath deceitful skies.

A haze of falsehood veils the wood;
Truth's quiet voice is scarcely heard.
The honest soul who will not feed
This crippled world with sugared speech

Is nearly silent, lost from view.
Then mindless AI seals it through:
With censorship it crowns the game—
The fools applaud and call it "progress."

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

The Forest of Bad Writing

Literature has lost its way;
No living movement lives today.
The Internet, a tangled wood,
Mimics samizdat—but poorly stood.

Most trunks bear madness, hollow prose;
Graphomania wildly grows.
Tender shoots of deeper themes
Fade beneath deceptive dreams.

Fog of lies hangs through the trees;
Honest voices barely breathe.
None who refuse to sweeten blight
Ever reach the public light.

Thoughtless AI ends the tale,
Armed with censorship to prevail.
Fools rejoice beneath its reign,
Calling silence wisdom's gain.

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

When I Am Gone

When I am gone, one soul will grieve—
My cat alone will mourn my leave,
Unless the beast next door one day
Has poisoned him and stolen away.

Perhaps that creature's dead by now?
No suffering? What a pity—how...
She poisoned cats throughout the yard;
So neighbours said—it wasn't hard

To learn the truth. The caretaker
Removed dead kittens, one by one.
Poisoned lives, cut short by hate—
A two-legged beast is worst by far:

More cruel than any wolf or bear,
More pitiless than beasts elsewhere.
No fang or claw can equal this—
A human heart devoid of bliss.

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

Only My Cat

When I am gone, my cat will cry—
Unless the neighbour lets him die.
Perhaps that beast is gone instead...
If not, that's one more thing to dread.

She poisoned cats around our place;
The neighbours knew the grim disgrace.
The janitor would clear away
Dead kittens at the break of day.

No earthly beast has sunk so low;
No wolf could match so vile a foe.
The cruelest predator by far
Walks upright—human is the scar.

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

Every Regime Is Fascist

Soviet rule—
Conceal the fool.
Smile for guests;
Rot does the rest.

Rashist reign,
Louder the pain.
"Not enough dead!"—
The slogan's spread.

Global rule—
One darker school:
War upon
The Spirit and Mind.

Pitiful God,
How strangely odd:
When will You stand
Against the damned?

Why is Culture
Left to die,
While fools are crowned
And truth denied?

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

Every System Wears the Same Face

Soviet order:
Hide the stain.
Foreign eyes
Must not see pain.

Rashist order:
More blood spilled!
Never enough
Until all's killed.

Global order:
Evil's throne.
Spirit and Reason
Stand alone.

Feeble god,
When will You speak?
Must Culture perish
Before the weak?

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

Poverty's Fancy

Wallet's empty, nearly bare;
Vodka's running out somewhere.
Mice have gnawed the little food;
Cough grows deep, the heart subdued.

If it's time to die—then die.
Spare the whining, spare the cry.
Consumer lust is mankind's blight—
Decay begins with appetite.

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

A Poor Man's Fantasy

Empty wallet, empty shelf;
Even vodka's left itself.
Mice consumed the final bread;
Heart beats faintly, cough instead.

If death calls, then meet it straight;
Do not bargain, do not wait.
Consumerism starts the fall—
The first decay that claims us all.

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

The Law of Large Numbers or The Global System of Surveillance and Deception

A global web that tracks each day
Keeps willing fools within its sway.
In Hell's machine there's little need
For minds that think, for hearts that heed.

Deceive the herd, record each name—
Statistics complete the game.
Once reduced to counted sums,
Atrocity with ease becomes.

CowID and war revealed
The truth no propaganda healed.
So leave the ledgers, break the ties;
Walk out beyond their numbered lies.

Refuse the cage they've built for you;
Step from the ranks that march on cue.
The world that counts you owns you too—
Be unnumbered. Stay untrue... to them.

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

The Law of Large Numbers

Global surveillance never sleeps;
Every fool it counts and keeps.
Honest minds are of no use
To systems built on fear and ruse.

Number people, file their lives—
Thus the greater evil thrives.
CowID and war have shown
What statistics hide in stone.

Therefore leave the numbered fold;
Break the chains both new and old.
Walk away from managed fate—
Better free than merely "data."

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

At the Circus

"To rid oneself of life is to deprive oneself of the pleasure of laughing at it."
— Emil Cioran

Clownish politicians, crowds that cheer and roar—
Feels just like a circus on New Year's Eve once more.
Drunk before the curtain, drunker by the show;
Acrobatics falter in the nets below.

Crimson-nosed buffoons have lost their painted pride;
Booze has blurred the laughter, washed the mask aside.
Vomit stains the grandstands where the faithful sit,
Drowning every punchline in a drunken fit.

Tiger cages, carelessly left almost unbarred,
Swinging open slowly... now the beasts stand guard.
Silent, tense, assembling, muscles coiled to spring—
Suddenly the circus crowns another king.

So don't rush to end it with a bullet's flight.
Wait a little longer.
They'll begin to bite.

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

The Circus

Politicians clown about; the audience applauds.
Every act grows madder underneath the canvas walls.
Drunken acrobats collapse, the jesters lose their paint;
Spectators are sick with drink—yet call the evening "great."

Tiger cages stand ajar.
Listen... hear them breathe.
They've already gathered close;
They are ready for the feast.

So don't waste a bullet now.
Save your final breath.
Wait a little—soon enough
They'll do the job themselves.

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

The Last World War

Chaos, friend!
The end draws near.
If you still
Can think, then hear:

Your true foe
Is not the face
The media
Would have you chase.

The hand behind
Their endless lies
Corrupts the crowd,
Dulls heart and eyes.

A witless herd,
A sleeping mass—
There lies the force
That lets evil pass.

Its ranks are filled
With fools and traitors.
Decay itself
Makes willing haters.

This war is greater
Than any before;
It shatters minds,
Not merely corps.

Most stagger now
With reason slain;
A hired madman
Ends your pain,

Unless you stand
With those still free,
Or wake one day
In tyranny.

Though chances fade,
Do not give in.
Expose each lie,
However grim.

Falsehood has become
Evil's sharpest blade;
Reason flickers low,
Its light betrayed.

Soullessness spreads
From shore to shore.
This infernal age
Endures no more.

The struggle saves
The soul within.
Step into the fight—
Let truth begin.

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

The Final World War

Friend, look around—confusion reigns.
If reason lives, then break your chains.
The enemy is not the one
The headlines name beneath the sun.

Behind the screens another hand
Corrupts the weak throughout the land.
A crowd made dull by fear and lies
Becomes the weapon tyrants prize.

Betrayers march beside the blind;
Decay consumes the human mind.
This war exceeds all wars before—
It conquers spirit to the core.

Unite with those who still can see,
Or trade your soul for slavery.
Though hope is scarce, let falsehood fall;
Expose deception, one and all.

Lies are now the strongest sword
Ever forged by darkness' lord.
Yet while one living soul remains,
The fight is worth its wounds and pains.

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

The Overwhelming Majority

The fool has tricks,
A sly disguise;
A shrivelled soul,
A heart of lies.

Darkness settled
Deep inside;
Now its poison
Spreads worldwide.

Every neighbour
Feels that stain;
Rot infects them
Like a chain.

They are the many—
Thus the earth
Sank beneath
Falsehood's curse.

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

The Stupid Overwhelming Majority

Every fool has learned the art
Of cunning wrapped in borrowed smart.
Inside, a shrivelled soul grows black;
Darkness never turns its back.

What festers there spills all around,
Poisoning every inch of ground.
They are the many—that is why
This fallen world is built on lies.

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

Escalating Mind Control

Mind control grows day by day—
Pseudo-life's triumphant way.
Fools submit without a fight;
Reason fades beyond their sight.

Total falsehood bears them down;
Herds drag every doubter round.
Even souls not wholly slain
Struggle hard to break the chain.

Through the media's endless roar
Fear directs the crowd once more.
Lies become the price to pay
For belonging every day.

Speak your mind—and you'll be cast
From the ever-rotting mass.
Thus deception stills them all;
Slaves embrace their spirit's fall.

CowID laid bare the score:
Three in four could think no more.
Earth became a realm of shade;
Few escaped the masquerade.

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

The Age of Mind Manipulation

Every year the pressure grows;
That's how pseudo-living goes.
Fools obey, and bit by bit
Lose the last remains of wit.

Lies press down from every side;
Herds pull doubters with the tide.
Even hearts not fully dead
Bow beneath the weight of dread.

Media thunder, fear, command—
Thus they govern every land.
Question nothing, bend your knee,
Or become society's enemy.

CowID exposed the cost:
Most were willing to be lost.
Earth resembles Hades now;
Thinking souls are rare somehow.

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

Fighting the Ugly

To fight what is vile
Means walking a mile
Through nonsense and lies;
Where Evil's disguise
Has swallowed the crowd—
The obedient, bowed.

Many have vanished,
Their spirits all banished;
They followed the call
Of ugliness all.

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

Against the Ugly

To fight the decay
You must clear the way
Through mountains of lies
And nonsense in disguise.

Evil has taken
The meek and forsaken—
A legion of fools,
Obedient tools.

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

The Empty Talkers

Half of Europe mouths the noise,
Chasing hollow, fading joys.
The rest of Earth is sinking too—
Traditions buried out of view.

Culture's pillars, once so bright,
Collapse beneath decay's own weight.
Ancient voices disappear;
A barren age is drawing near.

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

Age of Decline

Empty tongues across the land,
Noise replaces thought and stand.
The world beyond is sinking fast;
Its cultures buried from the past.

Traditions crumble, values fall,
Decay spreads over one and all.

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

Sinking, Wailing

Sinking, crying,
Yet we stay
Silent, hiding
From the grey

Media's stench,
Smoke and lies—
Everything's lost
Under skies.

Even souls now
Cast away,
Following falsehood,
Bowing to decay.

Still they wait for
"Paradise"—
Weak and fearful,
Closed their eyes.

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

Drowning in Silence

We are sinking,
We are torn,
Yet no screaming—
We are worn.

In the filth of
Media's breath,
We have wasted
Souls to death.

Trusting falsehood,
Serving lies,
Waiting blindly
For fake skies.

Weak and helpless,
Lost inside—
Chasing heaven
With no guide.

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

Soldier's Delirium

From the major
Comes much vapor—
Not Suvorov...
Soon we're over.

Back to hiding,
Every brother,
Crawl to corners,
Lose each other.

And once more—
We will bend.

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

A Soldier's Rant

Major's talking—
Endless nonsense.
No great Suvorov,
Just a loud mess.

Discharge coming,
Time to scatter;
Back to holes where
Nothing matters.

Once again,
We bow and break.

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

A Dog's Heart

A coder—
Like Shvonder,
And the dog
Went mad in war's fog.

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

Dog's Heart

A coder,
A Shvonder—
Then the hound
Lost all sense on the battlefield ground.

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

A Dog's Heart

The coder came,
A Shvonder by name.
The dog was changed—
And war deranged.

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

The Heights and the Herd

The seeker climbs
Beyond the skies.
The sheep remains
Where falsehood lies.

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

Upward and Downward

The keen rise high,
Beyond the lie.
The ram stays down,
In a fake world's town.

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

To the Heights

The wise ascend
Beyond the bend.
The foolish ram
Sinks in the scam.

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

Mumu and the "Anti-Fascists" Reborn

Poor Mumu hates Gerasim's hand,
She knows the tale, she understands.
Yet fascism returns once more,
With fear and lies it walks the floor.

Though countless films have filled their eyes,
Though books have warned them of disguise,
The world sinks down into the mire
When fools let monsters rise to power.

They studied history, line by line,
Yet failed to see the warning sign.
A thousand lessons fade away
When truth is traded for decay.

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

Mumu and the New "Anti-Fascists"

Mumu despises Gerasim's name—
She read the story, knows the shame.
Yet fascism comes with smiling face,
Spreading fear and lies through every place.

A thousand movies, countless books
Have shown them where destruction looks.
But still the lowest worlds admire
The servants of the rising fire.

They saw the past, they heard the cries,
Yet bowed again to new disguise.
A world that welcomes evil's throne
Has already lost its soul and own.

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

Chikatilo for the Fools

Chikatilo for the blind—
A hollow copy of that kind.
He gathers hatred, feeds the flame,
While driving Reason out of frame.

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

A Chikatilo for the Dumb

A Chikatilo for the fools,
A twisted echo breaking rules.
He stores the forces of the rage,
And casts out Reason from the age.

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

The Copycat Chikatilo

A Chikatilo for the herd,
A double-made, distorted word.
He breeds the poison, spreads the night,
And banishes the mind's last light.

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

Symbol

Track-standing still, a noble sign:
Let brave hearts pass the waiting line.
For from behind, when they are through,
The sons of Judas strike anew.

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

The Symbol

A track stand — a telling sign:
"Wait here, let courage pass the line."
Then from behind, when heroes roam,
Betrayers strike and claim their own.

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

Symbol

A track stand on the racing ground
Is a symbol, clear and profound:
Let the fearless move ahead—
Judas' sons will strike them dead.

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

Yard Cats

"Fate plays with man, and man plays the trumpet."
— Ilya Ilf and Evgeny Petrov, "The Golden Calf"

My furry friends, my whiskered crew,
Are all the friends I ever knew.
No others do I need beside;
I think of those from days gone by.

I had a "sweetheart," had some "friends"—
What madness those old stories tell.
Small-minded folk, like sheep in pens,
Who dragged each other down as well.

And now, in this forsaken age,
When madness rules and truth is banned,
I'd rather write another page
Or play my "trumpet" with my hand.

To stroke the cats, to hear them purr—
That is the solace left to me.
The soul has almost lost its stir;
Step back, and keep your spirit free.

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

Cats of the Yard

My furry mates are all I need;
No human crowd can match their breed.
I think of "friends" I had before—
What fools they were, and nothing more.

A herd of sheep, a petty crowd,
Not worth a thought, not worth a sound.
In this corrupted, broken age,
I write my verse, I fill the page.

Or play the trumpet, as they say,
While cats bring peace into my day.
My soul is tired, almost undone—
Withdraw before the rot has won.

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

Euro-Ass. Russia — Sphincter.
This dead world needs a graveyard winter.

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

Euro-Butt, and Russia's gate—
A dying world awaits its fate.

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

Euro-Arse, Russia's rear end—
A dead world waits for its final end.

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

As Once, So Now

As once a vulgar fool of kings
Was praised by fools as greatest light,
So now a tyrant's shadow brings
A beacon for the darkest night.

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

The Idol of the Worst

As once a crude and foolish czar
Was hailed by fools as grand and wise,
So now his double shines afar—
A false bright star for vile men's eyes.

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

Benders

"The barren fields of Bender's land,
Where horned wild buffaloes roam the sand..."

And there the "Russian world" has grown,
A bleak and empty wasteland shown.
No joy, no light, no hope remains—
Only dull shadows, endless chains.

Propaganda rules the stage;
A pack of beasts, a mindless rage,
Leads willing fools along the track
Straight toward the darkness, no way back.

Yet fools obey without a cry—
They gladly follow, never ask why.

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

Benders

Barren Bender's empty land,
Where horned beasts roam the desert sand.
The "Russian world" has settled there—
A world of gloom, of void, despair.

Propaganda beats the drum;
The servants of darkness lead the dumb.
They march their followers toward the night—
And fools accept the chains outright.

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

The Vanishing Few

Hail the Sun!
Burn it all,
Down to ashes,
Down to fall.

Few are we,
The honest, the bright—
Thin is our layer
In endless night.

We are weary;
The vile have won.
Let the fire come—
Let it be done.

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

The Fading Layer

Long live the Sun!
Burn to the ground!
We few still remain—
Surrounded, outnumbered, bound.

Our layer is thin,
Our patience is gone;
The scoundrels have pushed us—
Bring on the dawn.

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

The Cataclysm Comes

The cataclysm comes at last;
Fools, defending skins of past,
Have driven the world so far—
Toward the edge, beyond repair.

Everything may burn away,
Seeds of something brighter lay.
Perhaps a wiser world will rise
From the ashes of old lies.

Till that day, in this mad sphere,
Spend your weary, gloomy years.
Let the darkness test your spine—
But do not kneel, do not resign.

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

The Cataclysm Nears

The cataclysm soon will come;
Fools, to save their fragile skin,
Have led the world into the flame—
Everything will start again.

Ashes first, then seeds may grow;
Something wiser may arise.
Till then, through this mad world go—
Keep your knees and keep your eyes.

Days may pass in sorrow's shade,
Storms may break what fools have made.
Yet whatever fate has shown—
Never bow. Stand on your own.

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

I Fell in Love

I fell in love—
I won the prize!
My pants are full
Of happy skies.

Yet here I stand,
In battle's gloom,
Fighting a war
Against the mind's doom.

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

Love Struck

I fell in love—
I got my way!
My heart is full
Of joy today.

So much delight,
So much to prove,
Right in the war
Against the mind and truth.

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

Love Won

I fell in love—
I got my bliss!
My pockets burst
With happiness.

What a strange fate,
What a funny fight—
Joy in my hands,
While Reason's in flight.

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

Managing the Global Madhouse

To manage the madhouse wide,
Greater progress is our guide.
Though our victories amaze,
Mind and Spirit fade away.

Making stupidity a science—
New absurdities, compliance—
Must be invented for the fools;
Fear becomes the strongest tool.

Tighten harder fear's old chains—
That will silence higher aims.
More and more the media's roar:
Turn the fools to beasts once more.

This is the perfect method, see:
Build a herd obediently.
Though some minds still stand apart,
We must tame the human heart.

Do not stop, continue on—
Build the kingdom of the sheep,
Where the thinking light is gone,
And the herd is ours to keep.

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

The Global Madhouse

Running the madhouse of the Earth:
Strive for progress, prove your worth!
Though the triumphs shine and grow,
Spirit fades and minds lie low.

Stupidity becomes a science;
Feed the fools with new defiance.
Add more fear and tighten screws—
That is how you break the Muse.

Let the media shout and scream,
Turn the idiots into the scheme.
Few still think, but do not fear—
A sheep-world soon will appear.

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

Gas, Goods, Store

Gas,
Goods,
Store—
You are
A slave
To things and daily needs;
Your soul is buried,
Your reason bleeds.

Fear and lies
Become the law;
A hollow life
Is all you saw.

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

The Slave of Things

Gas line,
Supply chain,
Store sign—
You remain
A slave to things,
To dust and days.

The soul is dead,
The mind erased.
Fear and falsehood
Rule the place.

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

"Human Rights"

"Human Rights" —
A tale that delights,
Retold through each age
On history's stage.

Yet common folk suffer,
Their burdens grow rougher.
In truth — tyranny's face,
A mindless disgrace.

Through fear and through lies,
Through dulling of eyes,
Each generation is worn,
By the poison reborn.

At last we have reached
The Night of the Mind.
Rights? — what a speech!
My head starts to grind...

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

"Human Rights"

"Human Rights" —
A marvelous tale,
For every new age
A beautiful veil.

While people grow poorer,
And darkness grows sure,
The truth wears the guise
Of tyranny's eyes.

Fear makes them weaker,
Lies make them blind;
Generation by generation,
They poison the mind.

The Night of Reason
Has come into sight.
Rights? — what a burden!
My head aches tonight...

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

You Are Cats

You are cats,
No more gnats
Of worry here:
Your lines are clear.

On furry backs
There live some fleas—
Who troubles whom
More, no one sees.

Cats have nature,
Cats have ways.
What have you
In your own days?

If truth you keep,
Not cut or bent,
Will you rest
In idle content?

Or worse by far—
With empty art,
Will you lie
And tear your heart?

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

You Are Cats

You are cats—
No heavy mats
Of pointless pain;
Your verses remain.

Fleas on fur,
Who knows for sure
Who suffers more,
The cat or the cure?

Cats just live
By nature's law.
What do you give
When truth you withdraw?

Better to rest
Than falsely compose—
For lying in verse
Is the worst of woes.

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

The Course Is Stupidity

The course is set
Toward the dumb;
Ears are tuned
To lies that come.

Drooping ears
On empty faces—
Too much poison,
False embraces.

All is hollow,
All mirage;
No trace of Light
In the mind's garage.

More delusion,
More decay;
More the bumps
Along the way.

A forehead built
For every bruise;
A spirit drilled
With books abused.

Priest or atheist,
It matters not—
Falsehood strikes
The mind's weak spot.

The age of fascism
Rises again,
Sending the masses
Into the chain.

Once more the ugly
Trusts the night;
Worships evil,
Calls it right.

The world is rotting,
Stinking with lies—
Falsehood devours
All that survives.

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

A Course Toward Stupidity

A course toward dumbness,
Ears toward lies;
Foolish faces,
Empty eyes.

Too much falsehood,
Too much gloom;
Mirage everywhere,
No light in the room.

More and more nonsense,
More bumps on the head;
More broken spirits,
More minds misled.

Books become sieves,
Wisdom runs dry;
Priest or atheist—
Both may deny.

The age of fascism
Returns once more;
It throws the masses
Into its war.

The ugly believe it,
Praise what is vile;
The world reeks of falsehood,
And feeds on the bile.

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

Pigs and Sages

"It is better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied; better to be a dissatisfied sage than a satisfied pig..."
— John Stuart Mill

"Only a madman could be dissatisfied with the achievements of socialism."
— Nikita Khrushchev

A pig cares little for a thinker—
Once fed and full, it knows it's right.
In ages where the stomach rules,
The mind becomes a useless light.

The wise man doubts and turns within,
Questions the truths he once believed.
The pig is like a weather vane,
By every master's voice deceived.

Whatever comes from screens of lies,
The herd accepts without a thought.
The thinker only brings them laughs—
For cattle, wisdom matters not.

The barn declares dissatisfaction
A sickness of the troubled mind;
The restless ones are sent away,
While obedience is praised as kind.

They used to say: only the mad
Would criticize the "perfect" way.
The West was hardly free of this—
It had its own illusions' sway.

To see all sides of every truth
May trap the mind in endless doubt;
The more you understand the whole,
The harder it becomes to get out.

The level of the herd was shown
When CowID came and proved the case:
The world was just a shallow pit,
With fear engraved on every face.

Another lie, another test—
And backs were bent without a fight.
They let the needles pierce their skin,
While thinkers vanished from the light.

The wise were mocked, the doubters blamed;
The herd was driven into shame.
A genocide of spirit spread,
With rare exceptions still aflame.

And when you turn around each "wonder"
Of so-called human progress built,
You find one side, then find another—
Everywhere the same old guilt.

A plague of lies across the earth,
A sickness wearing many masks—
A "swine flu" of the human mind,
That poisons all it ever asks.

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

Patterns of Evil and Its Servants

Fools and lies, and endless cries—
Evil spreads beneath the skies.
Like the monkeys in a row,
Servants copy what they know.

Every pattern, every phrase
Leads the crowd through darker ways:
Into weakness, into blindness,
Into chains of mental mindlessness.

Lies are poured with growing power,
Poisoning each passing hour.
In a world where thinkers choke,
Where the air is filled with smoke,

Where the media endlessly screams,
Selling nightmares, selling dreams,
Where new wars and fake diseases

Yet their efforts are not vain—
Souls are lost beneath the chain.
Spirit, Reason, inner light
Are attacked in endless fight.

If decay has filled the land,
If corruption rules the hand,
Then the final generation
Bears the mark of degradation.

But from ruins, after flame,
Spirit may return again.
Through the storm that breaks the prison,
A new dawn may rise unhidden.

Farewell, rotten age of lies;
Farewell, darkness in disguise.
Those who bowed to evil's throne—
Soon their hollow reign is gone.

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

Evil's Templates

Fools and liars, endless fraud—
Everywhere the prints of Evil's law.
Like the monkeys, one by one,
Servants copy what is done.

Patterns leading crowds below,
Into ignorance they go.
Lies concentrated, multiplied,
Poisoning the world inside.

Thinkers suffocate and tire
In the smoke of false desire.
Media storms, invented fears,
Endless wars through endless years.

Yet decay has reached its height;
Darkness cannot defeat the light.
When the rotten world must fall,
Spirit will return to all.

Farewell, old fascism of decay;
Servants of darkness—fade away.
The future belongs to those
Whose minds and spirits still arose.

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

Auto-Idiocy I

Wheel alignment for your car
Seems more important by far
Than the fact that fools are driving,
In this madhouse, barely surviving.

Some dumb blockhead cuts your way—
Off the road you fly away.
Alignment will not save you then;
You are lost among these men.

And if you walk instead of ride,
You face the herd from every side.
They will trample, if not in street,
Then with morals just as brutal and complete.

For this world has lost its light—
A hellish place of endless night.

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

Auto-Idiocy I

Wheel alignment, perfect care—
What does it matter if fools are everywhere?

Idiots drive, the roads are theirs;
A sudden turn and no one cares.

Into the ditch your fate may fly;
No perfect wheels will tell you why.

A pedestrian? Your chances fall—
A stupid herd surrounds you all.

They crush you, if not flesh and bone,
Then break your spirit, piece by stone.

This rotten world, beyond repair,
Is built on madness everywhere.

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

Auto-Idiocy II

Wheel alignment, perfect track—
More important than the fact
That you are a hound and stray
In the world's war-kennel today.

There darkness rules with shattered heads,
While madness hunts and hunger spreads.
The horn is blown — the chase begins,
The pack runs out with savage grins.

"Attack!" — they rush, a mindless crowd,
At other dogs they bark aloud.
For they are told the prey they chase
Is not their kind, but a different race.

Yet all are hounds beneath the sun—
The horn has lied again. Again.

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

Auto-Idiocy II

Wheel alignment, wheel and tire—
Matters more than truth entire:

You are a hound in War's old den,
A broken world of beasts and men.

The hunting horn begins to sound,
The fools pour out, a raging hound.

"Get them!" — they charge the chosen prey,
Believing every word they say.

"Those are the dogs, not us!" they cry—
The horn repeats another lie.

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

Running and the Barbell

"Bad news never makes us flee—
We just run in place, you see."

Much better, though, to lift some weight,
Two hundred grams upon the plate.
We raise it proudly, feel the thrill—
We're in the wrong place, climbing still.

No race ahead, no strength to gain—
Just endless motion, endless strain.
We run, we lift, we chase the dream—
Lost in the swamp of a broken scheme.

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

Running and Weights

"Bad news comes? We do not flee—
We run in place so endlessly."

Better still, with weight to raise,
Two hundred grams to earn our praise.

Lift it high, pretend we fight—
In the Wrong Place, day and night.

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

In Service to Lucifer’s Filth-System

What is life’s value
When, at the feast of death,
We find ourselves serving
The filth beneath?

In decay and corruption,
In darkness we stand;
Our minds are enslaved
By a withering land.

No worth can be found
In a soul that obeys,
Yet none dare question
The system’s old ways.

They worry for bodies,
For comfort and skin,
While darkness of madness
Is spreading within.

Concern for the Soul—
That alone can be true.
Not flesh, but the Spirit
Must carry us through.

The saving of Reason,
The awakening flame,
Is the road out of Hell,
Out of filth and its name.

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

Serving Lucifer’s System

What is life worth
If, in death’s feast,
We serve the filth
Of the infernal beast?

Lost in decay,
In corruption’s night,
We guard only skin,
Forgetting the Light.

No blame for the System,
No questions, no cries—
Just fear for the body
While the Spirit dies.

Care for the Soul—
That is the way.
Not flesh, but the Mind
Can escape decay.

Save your Reason,
Break free from the mire:
The path out of Hell
Begins with the Fire.

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

Only the Mentally Blind

Only those whose minds are sleeping
Can believe: "All is okay."
When such numbers keep increasing,
"Education" oils the way.

Youth may easily be blinded,
Waste its time on dreams and lies;
Till it wakes, ashamed and wounded,
Seeing through the false disguise.

Then it mourns the lost possibilities,
Paths it might have dared to choose,
In a world of dark decline,
Where each day brings deeper wounds.

Into inner realms of being
One must venture, brave and deep;
There no false decorations shelter,
There the sharper pains you keep.

Only thus among the thinking
Can you truly still remain.
For this world is filled with madness,
Few escape the endless chain.

There, perhaps, you’ll find the brightness,
There you may be lost as well.
Only works of true creation
Show if you have risen or fell.

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

Among the Few Who Think

Only fools with minds asleep
Say: "The world is fine and bright."
Yet the many drown so deep
In the honey of false light.

Youth may follow empty visions,
Waste its years on borrowed dreams;
Till it wakes from false ambitions,
Seeing through deceptive schemes.

Then it grieves the paths abandoned,
Chances lost along the way,
In this world of dark decay
Growing darker every day.

Seek the hidden inner spaces,
Fear no truth and fear no pain.
There are no false painted faces—
There you may yourself regain.

Only there, among the wiser,
Can your lonely spirit stand.
For this world is ruled by madness,
With few minds still unanned.

You may find the hidden fire there,
You may vanish in the quest.
Only what your hands create there
Shows if you have failed or blessed.

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

Damnation, or the Transnistrian Fascist Regime

A regime of sheep-like virus,
Easy enough to spin and turn—
The people must be brought to zero,
While warmth is harder to earn.

They robbed away the whole foundation,
Left even markets bare;
No money left to buy the gas,
No comfort anywhere.

An outside enemy, a monster,
Gives orders from afar;
And monsters blindly carry them out,
Obeying every scar.

Though fascism spreads around us,
The world in falsehood’s sea—
A foolish world of broken mirrors,
A world that’s lost and free.

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

Damnation

Sheep-virus rules the kingdom,
Twisting minds with ease;
To crush the common people
Is simpler than to please.

They stole away the future,
They left the shelves all bare;
No money even for the gas,
No mercy anywhere.

A foreign beast gives orders,
The servants nod and obey;
The puppets march obediently
Along the chosen way.

For fascism wears many masks,
Deception rules the game;
A world that lives on lies and rot
Has only filth to name.

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

Happy New Year, Mother!

Happy New Year, Mother!
Yet I'll say another:
Little here is new
When happiness is through.

The numbers change their faces,
The world repeats old traces;
A year may start anew—
But not the heart, if blue.

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

New Year, Mother

Happy New Year, Mother dear!
Yet the truth is crystal clear:
Not much new the years can bring
If lost is happiness's spring.

The calendar turns its page,
But sorrow keeps its ancient age.

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

Down! Push Up! A Stump Appeared!

"Drop down! Push up!" — the order came,
A wooden stump was found the same.
No need to serve a rigid line—
A free-born Spirit must be thine!

No drills can make a person whole,
No chains can train a fearless soul.
The strongest force that you can prove
Is keeping thought and spirit free.

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

Down! Push Up!

"Down! Push up!" — a stump was caught!
Such service is not worth a thought.
Be free in Spirit — that is all
No barracks chain can make you fall.

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

MVD — Ministry of Inner Affairs

"Internal affairs" — they took the phrase literally:
With a mop they commit their brutality.
The new fascism was gladly embraced
By traitors who found in it profit and place.

A convenient feeding ground, a system of lies—
Wherever such darkness grows, evil survives.

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

"We Are Above the Whole Wide World"

"We are greater than the world,"
Says the mafia family line.
Knowledge, Art, and Lyre are nothing—
Only pigs are supreme and fine.

The mind may seek the hidden truth,
The poet may create and sing;
But in the kingdom ruled by greed,
The pig becomes the highest king.

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

The Highest One

"We are more than all the world"—
Mafia speaks with pride.
Truth and Lyre are empty words:
The pig is deified.

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

The World's Backside

A "heroic" little brute
Kills the "enemy" today,
Making his own nation's backside
Grow by taking others' share away.

He calls destruction glory,
He calls conquest a success;
But every stolen piece of pie
Leaves only more emptiness.

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

The World's Backside

A "heroic" fool today
Kills the "enemy" in sight,
Growing his country's backside
From another's stolen bite.

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

The Demon

Mercantile desire takes flight,
Ego swells beyond the height.
Mind in fragments, weighed and sold,
Mixed with madness, dark and cold.

Total lies — infernal press,
Through the media creeps distress.
Listening to the fool's loud cry
Turns the soul to pain and sigh.

Fear is always added on,
Bodies saved while truth is gone.
Selling conscience, twisting speech —
Helplessness is what they teach.

Thus the world becomes a ward,
Where absurdity is lord.
Empty promises of bliss
Lead the flock through forests of mist.

Clerics preach the lies of old,
Counterfeit truths bought and sold.
False science raises demons again,
Dark interpreters deceive men.

Schools prepare the mindless crowd,
Universities praise the proud.
Money, titles, ranks and fame —
All are fuel for the game.

Fall apart if rank is missed,
If ambition can't exist.
Obedience spreads like sickness wide,
Rotten manners dressed with pride.

To the enemy they bring a blade,
With slander sharp and traps well-made.
Those who enter halls of black
Seek power, wealth, and fortune's track.

Everywhere the mark of "demon" grows,
Honesty fades, corruption flows.
Without tears, without despair,
One can hardly breathe this air.

Through servility, through endless strain,
The hidden Demon rules the chain.
Behind the curtain of deceit,
The Spirit dies beneath defeat.

The final goal of Evil's scheme:
Turn mankind into a lesser being.
Through fear and habit, day by day,
The Demon steals the soul away.

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

Armor-Piercing Alloy

"Do not be restless. Impatience is a luxury;
I will slowly gain my speed and rise.
With measured steps we'll enter the road ahead—
I have preserved my distance in my eyes."
— Osip Mandelstam, 1931

I shortened the distance that stood between,
Rejected detours, chose the path of danger.
The heat of passion, marching into battle,
Became my fuel; Clarity — my engine.

Clarity rising beyond all limits,
And words become like bombs and shells,
Like napalm striking through the concrete bunker
That bears the name of Human Thought itself.

The war goes on. The target of the enemy:
To turn the human spirit into beasts.
They hide behind hired hands and shadows,
Where means remain, but purpose has deceased.

The enemy conceals the final reason;
Only the tools of war are understood.
The whole Earth wanders lost in madness,
And none can flee the struggle against the dark.

Through Lies and Madness forms the army,
Advancing boldly against the lone and few.
Insanity conquers towns and cities,
Moving unseen, yet knowing what to do.

Poet, fire straight into the Madness—
Even if the battle is unequal.
Your greatest caliber is the power of the word:
The single, uncompromising **"No!"**

Let Rage and Clarity be joined together,
Forged into one unbreakable alloy—
An armor-piercing force of spirit
That breaks the walls of falsehood and decay.

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

Sprayers

"Literature" — just empty games,
"Nation" and other hollow names.
Through endless praise and blind applause
Culture dies by hidden laws.

A little "critique" of daily news
Changes little in the views.
It only lets the pressure fade—
A steam valve in the masquerade.

The mainstream media’s poisoned art
Keeps shaping monsters from the start.
All writing serves as painted screens,
A mask that hides what truly means.

There are exceptions, very few,
Buried deep among the crew.
They cannot tear propaganda’s blade,
Only show the mess it made.

The filth still stinks. Through hired hands,
Through "sprayers" working by commands,
The unbearable stench is sweetened,
And traitors praised as noble, greeted.

Betrayal, selling, endless lies
Drag the mad world toward its demise.
Empty words make ears grow tired—
Yet crowds remain forever wired.

Any lie can be sold to the mass,
Any fear through minds can pass.
It is never hard to do
When reason turns to dust in you.

Corruption through the loss of mind
Is the genocide of spirit and kind.
For centuries the crimes of night
Have been dressed as law and right.

All "light" remains a declaration,
While punishment rules the nation.
Degradation has reached the sky—
Yet one direction: lower, fly.

The Sprayers of Decline proclaim
That falling down is Progress' name.
The costs of darkness, rot, and pain
Are called "sweet fragrance" once again.

No future waits, no hopeful road—
Only a Hell of endless load.
Yet in the darkest years they say:
"Wait for the manna. Wait and pray."

Of course, with different words they speak,
But the meaning stays the same and bleak:
"Just tolerate, endure, remain—
Tomorrow's miracle will come again."

Into Nothing, into nowhere,
They march in circles everywhere.
Still standing still, yet told to move—
"Stop! Go! Wait! Your fate will prove!"

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

Trace Upon the Ray

A new F;hrer. Truth arrives—
Yet the fool believes the lies.
Once again he marches forth,
Finding shame or death henceforth.

History repeats its pain,
Fools will weep and curse again.
Once again their "life" is spent
Only serving false intent.

Serving lies and serving shame,
Calling evil "good" by name.
Serve the darkness, guard the skin—
While the media storms begin.

Goebbels' spirit rules the screen,
Culture bows to what has been.
The main goal: survive the night.
But a foolish bullet has no sight.

Once again a F;hrer speaks,
"Truth" is false, and reason leaks.
Fools believe the beastly voice;
Again they march by forced choice.

Only faces change their form—
Evil rules through every storm.
Fear and lies are weapons old;
Crowds remain both weak and cold.

With each new generation's birth
Deeper rots the human worth.
Genocide becomes the plan—
Still the "pioneer" believes the man.

Once again the F;hrer lies,
Once again the herd complies.
Then beyond the final door—
The Digital Camp of global gore.

Only few remain awake,
Those who guard their spirit's sake.
They do not mistake the Hell,
They have seen its nature well.

Let the crowd believe once more
The deceiver at the door.
The sensitive soul finds Light,
Walks toward Source beyond the night.

Introspection, critical mind—
Break the chains that Evil binds.
Everything is born within:
There the answer starts to begin.

To the offers of the dark,
Only "No!" becomes the spark.
Then the mind escapes the spell,
Leaves the madness called Hell.

Only traces will remain—
A thin mark upon the ray,
From the shelter of the herd,
From the misery where fear had stayed.

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

Mind Beneath the Spirit

The roof collapses from the pressure
On a fragile, tired brain.
Overload has become the measure,
Failure follows endless strain.

Yet there is one forgotten detail:
Absurdity has reached the sky.
All this labor, all this struggle,
Serves no purpose passing by.

Into subtle chains we wander,
Hidden deep beneath the weight
Of obligations, dreams and duties,
Of ambitions sealed by fate.

This is the cross of broken ages:
Through absurdity they lose their mind.
Like a trial where a clever lawyer
Defends the truth he cannot find.

Smart in words, but serving illusions,
Proud of cunning, cold and sly—
When the Spirit is abandoned,
Madness always follows nigh.

Trickery and empty cleverness
Lead the mind into the herd.
Only Mind beneath the Spirit
Keeps its freedom from the word.

The mask and "cure" of CowID days
Revealed what people truly are:
Not the villain, but the creature
Following a guiding star.

The path toward Nothing still continues,
The whole world turned into a pen.
Life itself became a sentence,
Madness spreading among men.

Balance underneath the Spirit
Is the hardest road to choose.
Only then you will not become
A belly serving empty views.

Introspection and critical vision—
These are Soul's own alchemy.
Then comes unity with the Spirit,
First step: destroy deceit and tyranny.

The Soul itself will show the pathway;
All fixed recipes are dust.
Only those who dare and struggle
Reach the heights they truly must.

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

Departure

Genocide. Shame. Fear and Lies.
Reason fades beneath dark skies.
Purest Spirit nearly gone,
Into the sewer drifts the dawn.

The mad obey the Evil tide,
Marching toward the void inside.
Step by step they disappear,
While the sensitive remain in fear.

Searching for a way to flee,
They slowly come to clarity:
Liberation will arrive
Through the entrance where the dead dreams thrive.

The entrance to this fragile world
Is foolishness, where minds are curled.
If Spirit is the highest guide,
Beyond the body lies the tide.

Into the unknown, beyond the frame—
A truthful path for Soul to claim.
It is madness to expect
Hope among the minds corrupted, wrecked.

A brief projection of the age:
Degradation fills the stage.
Then comes the final transformation—
Spirit leaves, not stagnation.

Spirit seeks the Spirit's source,
Beyond Hell's destructive course.
Or else the fate of those who sell
Their souls arrives from deepest Hell.

The Hell of Hell brings joy to fools
Who trust in New Age's broken rules;
Who live in madness, proudly blind,
And seek "the truth" through a shattered mind.

The madness grows infernal, vast;
The path through darkness cannot last.
Unless you leave through the inner gate,
And turn within before too late.

For there the hidden turn begins:
The road beyond the world of sins.
One final purpose, one true goal—
To leave this Hell and reach the Source of Soul.

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

Clarity

Short and clear:
Life can be bright.
The greatest danger
Is losing the light.

If the realms of Hell
Seem perfectly well,
Becoming corrupt
Is easy enough.

The greatest deception:
No chains can be seen.
Slavery is freedom,
And all looks serene.

People are normal,
The mind is alright;
Yet madness infernal
Becomes common sight.

The world is surrounded
By Judas and lies.
Betrayal becomes labor,
Where obedience thrives.

They rule through the foolish,
Through weakness and greed;
They call selling courage,
And blindness a creed.

Honesty toward oneself
Is called something strange;
The pressure of crowds
Denies any change.

The voices keep saying
That life is a feast,
Not a funeral banquet
For Spirit and Reason deceased.

To follow the patterns
Of creatures who lie,
To bow before falsehood
And fear passing by,

To teach our descendants
To honor the base—
Is slowly to erase
The Soul from its place.

Life takes the Soul gently,
Step after step;
In an infernal world
Change cannot be kept.

CowID became a landmark,
A symbol of shame;
The measure of darkness
Rose higher again.

Keep Mind beneath Spirit,
Reject every chain.
Seek the Light within you,
Or suffer the same.

Short and clear:
The ending is grim.
Without inner searching,
The future grows dim.

The search is for the lonely,
The person apart;
Beyond the madhouse of madness
Lives the awakened heart.

Hell is the circle
Of lies without end.
The path is returning
To the Source again.

Back to the current
Of purest and true—
The endless bright river
Of Clarity through.

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

Bull Terrier Named "Fascism"

The bull terrier clears each bar—
Half-measures never get too far.
Genocide creeps, then gains its speed,
Turbocharged through CowID.

War makes all the faster run;
Hell's Dark Master soon has come.
One last cry—"Attack!"—is cast:
Not the wretched... we fall last.

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

The Bull Terrier Called "Fascism"

Over every fence it flies,
Scorning every compromise.
Slow begins the killing tide—
CowID becomes its stride.

War accelerates the race;
From the Pit comes Satan's face.
One last order: "Sic!"—too late...
Not the fools—we meet our fate.

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

Cogworld

A little cog got jab on cue,
Fake-plague potion, toxic brew.
Mindless fool in all he sees,
Cheap at heart with vulgar ease.
Cogworld rots in foul disease.

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

Cogworld

A tiny cog received his shot,
Fake-disease's poison draught.
Thoughtless fool in head and speech,
Petty soul beyond all reach.
Cogworld is a festering breach.

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

Screw-World

A little screw got dosed one day
With sham-disease's toxic spray.
Brain-dead thinking, spirit slack,
Soul as vulgar as it's black.
Screw-World is a rotten wreck.

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

The Eight-Thousandth Poem (in Russian)

So many years gone,
Yet verses marched on.
More fools now abound,
More chains lock us down;
More lies fill the air,
More fear everywhere.
Such is this age—
The poet's sole rage,
If honest and true,
Is shouting, "No!"

He shatters the Lies
That darken the skies.
The meek-hearted cheat,
By falsehoods made weak,
Still crawls as a slave
To fear and the grave.

Cry "No!"—that alone
When monsters have grown.
Say less—and you'll be
One more fool on your knee.

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

The Eight-Thousandth Poem in Russian

Long years disappeared
In poems well speared.
More fools fill the land,
More shackles command;
More terror, more lies—
No end in our eyes.

The honest bard knows
One answer alone:
A thunderous "No!"
Against global show.

The coward betrays,
Enslaved by the haze
Of fear and deceit—
He kneels in defeat.

Cry "No!" while they attack,
Or join the whole damned pack.

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

The Last Gulliver

Gadgets bind with silken thread;
Tiny screens shrink every head.
Gone the last Gulliver here,
Lost in lies, fascism, and fear.

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

Cog in the Net

Gadgets weave their binding net;
Little people, screen-bound yet.
Last Gulliver breathed his last
Midst of lies and fascist cast.

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

Gadget Magic

Gadget's got you, tightly tied;
Nets become the chains of mind.
Last Gulliver passed away
Where lies and fascist measures reign.

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

The Rabbit Hole's Depth

Down the Rabbit Hole we race—
Never time to breathe in place.
Time to climb back out once more,
From warm stench to Light and Frost.

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

The Rabbit Hole

Down the Rabbit Hole we slide;
No more room to breathe inside.
Time to leave that reeking den,
Meet the Light—and Frost again.

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

Depth of the Rabbit Hole

Deeper still the Rabbit calls;
Breath grows short within its walls.
Out we climb—it's long past due:
From warm rot to Frost and Truth.

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

The Hunched Goblin

Hunched the goblin, bowed with strain—
Life's a harness, chain on chain.
Not on Volga barges—see:
Fools now drag society.

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

Goblin Burden

Crooked goblin, bent and worn,
Life in harness, dusk till morn.
Not the haulers of old lore—
Foolish citizens pull more.

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

Harnessed World

Goblin's stooped beneath the load;
Life's one never-ending yoke.
Not the Volga's barge-haul crew—
Citizens, the witless few.

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

The Hunched Goblin

Hunched the goblin, crushed by load;
Life's a harness, bleak abode.
Not the Volga's barge-haul crew—
Citizens, the witless, do.

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

The Hunched Goblin

Hunched the goblin, bent with pain;
Life's forever hitched in chain.
No Volga haulers haul today—
Foolish citizens pull away.

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

The Gloomy Guru

Gloomy guru drones on high
Of lofty truths that touch the sky.
Yet one-sided heights descend,
Beauty twists to freakish end.

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

Guru's Sermon

Gloomy guru, grave and wise,
Preaches lofty truths and skies.
Crooked heights sink ever low;
Beauty leaves, and freaks now grow.

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

High Talk

Gloomy guru chants of Height,
Wrapped in solemn robes of light.
Lopsided heights collapse at last;
Beauty turns to ugliness.

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

The Gloomy Guru

Gloomy guru speaks sublime,
Lofty visions, timeless rhyme.
One-sided heights can only fall;
Beauty ends grotesque for all.

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

Dispatch to Ganesha

Dispatch to Ganesha:
"Rush into the china store!
Give the fools one crushing roar—
Or the Devil melts them down forevermore."

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

A Message to Ganesha

A message sent to Ganesh:
"Storm the china shop afresh!
Teach those fools a lesson rough,
Else the Devil claims their stuff."

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

Memo to Ganesha

Memo sent to Ganesha:
"To the china shop—make haste!
Let the fools all feel the crash,
Or the Devil melts their ash."

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

Dispatch to Ganesha

Dispatch to Ganesha:
"To the china shop—make haste!
Give the fools a proper thrashing,
Or the Devil melts them into slag."

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

Wind-Up Fool

A wind-up fool, now old and gray,
Still hunts "Happyness" every day.
Shakes with fear at every sound,
Never peace or courage found.

Lies and fear feed "Happyness"
Like cold storms feed blossoms—yes:
Leave them long beneath that sky,
Beauty fades... and flowers die.

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

Clockwork Boy

A clockwork boy, now old with years,
Chases "Happyness" through fears.
Every shadow makes him shake;
Every lie—another break.

Lies and fear make "Happyness"
Bloom like flowers in distress:
Keep them long in rain and cold—
Beauty withers, pale and old.

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

Wind-Up Dummy

A wind-up dummy, old at last,
Still hunts "Happyness"—holding fast.
Quakes with fear both night and day,
Watching courage waste away.

Lies and fear grow "Happyness"
Like harsh storms make flowers bless:
Leave them long in wind and rain—
Beauty scarcely will remain.

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

Wind-Up Fool

A wind-up fool, now old and worn,
Still seeks "Happyness" every morn.
Quakes with fear at every sound,
While false dreams keep spinning round.

Lies and fear feed "Happyness"
Like storms nourish blossoms—yes:
Leave them long beneath that sky,
Beauty fades... and flowers die.

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

The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth

The meek shall claim the Earth one day—
The vampires all will flee away.
Fools believe each lying speech:
First spread fear, then falsehood preach;
Promise wonders, promise bliss,
Paradise with one false kiss—
Then divide the loaf with pride:
Butter goes to those who lied.
Bowls and crumbs for fools instead—
Back to work. Keep your head.

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

Inheritance

The meek inherit Earth at last—
Watch the vampires flee aghast!
Fools embrace each crafted lie:
Scare them first, then promise sky;
Promise paradise and bread—
Dreams to fill each empty head.
Share the loaf? The rich take cream;
Fools get crumbs—and toil and dream.

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

Blessed Are the Meek

Blessed are the meek on Earth—
Vampires flee before rebirth.
Fools believe what liars say:
Fear them first, then lead astray.
Promise miracles above,
Fields of plenty, peace and love;
Break the loaf—but keep the best,
Leave the crumbs to all the rest.
Empty bowl and endless grind—
That's the wage they leave behind.

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

Buying and Selling

Buying. Selling.
Greed compelling.
Mind is gone—
Soul as well... gone.

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

Trade

Bought and sold,
Greed takes hold.
Thoughts take flight,
Soul from sight.

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

The Bargain

Buying. Selling.
Greed's compelling.
Mind is lost—
Soul's the cost.

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

The Price of Trade

Buying. Selling.
Greed's compelling.
Thoughts depart—
Then the soul, and heart.

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

Thick-Skinned Lilliputians

Thick-heeled Lilliputians, blind,
Thick of skin and mean of mind,
Glad to serve the Beasts they find.
Nursing lies, they hunt for "Bliss"
In an Hell they gladly kiss;
Cheat, betray, deceive once more,
Hoard their money, crave for more—
That's their creed from core to core.
Nothing else can reach their sight:
Eat and sleep from morn till night—
Feeding first on filth outright.

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

Lilliput Breed

Heavy-heeled, thick-skinned they crawl,
Serving Monsters, one and all.
Truth they trade for every lie,
"Happiness" in Hell they buy.
They betray and they deceive,
Trust the frauds they should not believe;
Pile up money, bow to greed—
That's the bastard's only creed.
Nothing higher fills their head:
Eat, sleep, swallow what they're fed.

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

Lilliputians

Heavy-heeled Lilliput crew,
Thick-skinned through and through.
Serving Beasts with eager pride,
Keeping close to Falsehood's side.
Seeking "Happiness" in Hell,
Selling truth they knew too well;
Cheating, lying, gathering gold—
That's the story always told.
Nothing else they care about:
Eat. Sleep. Never think or doubt.
Feast on filth—and then bow out.

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

Boys on a Tank

Boys upon a little tank.
Fingers gone—they paid the bank.
Then a bullet split the head...
Tin was all that filled instead.

Tin forged out of lies alone.
Loudmouths drive the fools headlong
To the slaughter, blind and numb;
Saving only skin to come.

Sense abandoned, cast away—
Darkness claimed their minds that day.
Thus the rashist order thrives...
While the "Leader" smiles and lies.

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

Tin Heads

Little boys ride little tanks;
Little fingers lost in ranks.
Then a shell broke through the skull—
Nothing there but tin to dull.

Tin from lies was cast and poured;
Frauds send fools to war by word.
Common sense is left behind;
Night descends upon the mind.

Into darkness, step by step,
Rashist power has led the inept.
Yet the "Leader," soft and mild...
Keeps pretending he's beguiled.

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

Masha, Pasha, Mother Russia

Masha, Pasha, Mother Russia—
Minds have turned to rotten mush-a.
Souls retreat in fear today:
Rashism hunts without delay.

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

Masha, Pasha...

Masha, Pasha—same old show;
Rotten porridge fills the skull.
Souls sink trembling to their heels:
Rashism strikes with iron zeal.

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

Our Russia

Masha, Pasha, our dear Russia—
Brains reduced to rancid slush.
Souls drop downward, gripped by fright;
Rashism's tightening its bite.

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

Masha, Pasha, Mother Russia

Masha, Pasha, Mother Russia—
Brains dissolved to rancid mush.
Souls retreat to trembling heels:
Rashism closes, never yields.

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

Too Much to Want

Wanting much with little might,
Fools stay strained from morn till night.
Beasts rejoice—they feed on gavvakh,
While the world keeps marching backward.

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

The Business of Ruin

Much they crave, yet weak they stand,
Driven hard by vain command.
Beasts feast gladly on gavvakh,
While all rush toward certain wreck.

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

Feeding the Beasts

Dreams are many, strength is small—
Fools stay tense, prepared to fall.
Beasts delight in gavvakh's taste;
On they drive... to utter waste.

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

Running on Empty

Much they want, yet strength is slight;
Fools live straining day and night.
Beasts rejoice—they feast on gavvakh,
While the march goes straight to ruin.

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

Spent

Much they crave, too weak to fight;
Fools stay wound up, taut and tight.
Beasts devour gavvakh with glee—
Marching on to catastrophe.

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

The Many-Layered Bottom

We've reached the end—what freedom stayed
Has now been beaten, stripped away.
A world of fools from wall to wall;
Deformed in spirit, one and all.

Those who resist the System's reign
Stand mostly lonely, bear the strain.
The media howl; their voices drown
Each truthful whisper beaten down.

Despair tears every cry apart;
A single hair still bears the heart.
That fragile thread is tightly wound
Inside the fool's unsteady hand.

There global fascism holds its throne,
Built high on megatons of lies.
Its only road leads ever down—
No sunrise waits beyond the skies.

Again the fools break through the floor;
Below—another fake, one more:
A cardboard bottom, thin and frail...
They'll smash through that without a fail.

Dante was wrong: not circles—layers.
Each deeper drop breeds blacker terrors.
Hell is here; the ground won't stay.
Run or stand—it slips away.

The Overton Window? No—
A sinkhole yawning far below.
It bursts the cardboard, layer by layer...
The world is lost in endless Night.

---

Variant of the last two stanzas:

Dante erred: not rings—but floors,
Each one darker than before.
Hell is here. The footing's gone.
Run or stay—the fall goes on.

Not a Window—just a Hole,
Dragging downward every soul.
Through the cardboard, one last dive...
Darkness swallows all alive.

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

The Buzzing Fly

Buzzing Fly has fed once more,
Stuffed herself from floor to floor.
Cockroach lives. Mosquito's gone,
Lost where lying mists roll on.
None remain to take the field
Against the world's corrupted yield.

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

The Well-Fed Fly

Greedy Fly has dined her fill,
Buzzing, bloated, never still.
Cockroach thrives; the Gnat is dead,
Lost where webs of falsehood spread.
No one stands against the tide
Of the world's corrupted pride.

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

Buzzing Fly

Buzzing Fly has filled her gut;
Round and round the feast is shut.
Cockroach stays. The Mosquito
Died where lying marshes grew.
None are left to take a stand
Against the ugliness of man.

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

The Buzzing Fly

Buzzing Fly has had her feast;
Bloated like a pampered beast.
Cockroach lives; the Mosquito
Perished in Falsehood's fatal bog.
None remain to fight the blight,
To bring this twisted world to light.

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

The Unprotected: The Sensitive and the Honest
(or: The Almost Completed World Digital Camp)

Protected now? A favored class—
How strange the ages come to pass.
Yet if the truthful, keen of soul
Should disappear—none mourns the toll.

Their ranks grow thinner every year;
This genocide has long been here.
Around us shuffle living dead,
By foolish citizens now led.

A hollow shell, devoid of flame,
Writes Earth's last chapter all the same.
The ones with Spirit, Mind, and Sight
Fade out alone into the night.

The truly human grow so few,
Though hidden from the public view.
The Beasts inject, through propaganda's sting,
Both Fear and Lies in everything.

Sink through a world that's cheap and blind,
Believing life is what you find.
The chance for rebirth fades away—
Let false "tolerance" rule the day.

Then through the gates you'll gladly file
Into the Camp of the Digital.
A crimson cross on banners white;
The watchdog guards approved "free speech" right.

A global bot keeps watch on all.
The quiet fool obeys the call,
Takes every shot, salutes each fraud,
And hymns the Rotten World abroad.

They only wait till all is done.
The Beasts have plans for everyone.
Threefold the Lies will flood the land;
The rot will march at their command.

"Protection" bought by bowed consent,
By selling Soul for safety lent.
Seek only Light—the rest is vain.
Time is short. Don't wait again.

"Protected" means already chained.
This madhouse never will remain.
Hell's walls will burn because so many
Joined the Lie instead of any

Truth—through silence, compromise,
Greed, participation, lies.
Promised "happiness," they sank
The world into its deepest blank.

Morning comes. Look through the glass.
Brighter grows the sun at last.
Light will burn this sham away,
Leaving not a shred to stay.

Find that Light within your soul.
Then you'll stand beyond control:
Not a cog in Darkness' scheme,
But a sudden Living Beam.

There is no worthier task to keep
For those whose hearts refuse to sleep.
Among Falsehood's endless din,
Guard the Light that burns within.

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

Check It

You'll stop believing if you check.
— Then who checks lies?
— Old Nobody next.

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

Believe Me Not

You won't believe once truth is known.
— Who checks the lies?
— No one's ever done.

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

Old Nobody

Check the facts—you'll lose belief.
— Who checks all lies?
— Old Nobody, chief.

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

Fact Check

Test a lie—you'll lose belief.
— Who tests lies?
— Old Nobody, chief.

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

Who Checks?

Verify—and faith will go.
— Who checks lies?
— Nobody you know.

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

Believe? Verify instead.
— Who verifies the lies?
— Old Nobody, he replied.

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

Now and Hereafter

The brute now teaches,
The fool now heals,
The villain hones
His lies like steel.
He longs to break
Both Mind and Soul,
To yoke us all,
To seize control.

To turn mankind
To cattle bred,
Till Meaning dies
And Truth lies dead.
Send all of them
Straight down to Hell—
The borders fell,
The warning bell

No longer rings.
This is no dream:
Hell walks the earth,
Not just a theme.
A newer one
Will soon arise—
Not underground,
But 'neath our skies.

Behind a fence,
A digital wall,
Reality
Dissolves for all.
The people bowed,
The ranks aligned,
A war machine
Consumes the mind.

Its shells are Lies,
Its poison Fear.
The fools obey
With eager cheer.
They crush what's left
Of human grace—
Relentless, ruthless,
Cold of face.

---

Variant of the final stanza:

Lies are bullets.
Fear's the gas.
Fools salute
Each dark command.
Hunting down
Humanity's last spark—
Unbending, savage,
Sure and stark.

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

The Same Commercial Breaks on Eurosport, Month After Month

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat once more.
The selfsame adverts flood the screen.
No respite from the mindless roar—
More rubbish where thought should have been.

It pours from every glowing frame,
Slowly murdering the mind.
Fresh buckets of the very same
Are all we're ever meant to find.

Noise has taken Meaning's place;
Empty echoes rule the day.
Life hangs trembling over waste...
Curtain falls. Fade to gray.

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

Commercial Break

Hammered by repetition,
Month by month the same.
Endless advertisements—
Different brands, one game.

Filth flows from the screens,
Drowning every thought.
Fresh loads of distraction—
Nothing that is sought.

Noise replaces Meaning;
Silence has no room.
Life hangs over sewage...
Cue the final doom.

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

Months of the Same Commercials

Repeat us into numbness—
Month on month the same.
Commercials without ending;
Different ads, one game.

Garbage floods the screenwaves,
Smothering the mind.
Fresh torrents of the trivial—
Nothing new to find.

Noise has drowned out Meaning;
That's the common rule.
Life hangs over filth itself...
Lights out. Curtain. Fool.

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

Meta-Level

Once Awareness stands upright,
Where can fascist filth still bite?
Mind that climbs beyond the climb
Leaves the world's foul muck behind.

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

Awareness

Consciousness, once fully won—
Where can filth still press upon?
Mind that reaches higher ground
Leaves the global muck unwound.

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

Beyond the Mire

True awareness breaks the chain.
Where can fascist filth remain?
Mind upon the meta-plane
Stands beyond the world's foul stain.

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

Meta-Consciousness

Awareness breaks oppression's claim.
Where now strikes fascist filth and shame?
Mind upon the meta-plane
Stands beyond the global stain.

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

Above the Mire

Awareness lifts the mind so high—
Where can fascist filth apply?
Meta-thought has crossed the line,
Far beyond the global slime.

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

In Memory of Pavel Kogan

"I'm tired of endless words and endless strife,
Of loving weary eyes that long have cried...
Far off upon the blue freebooter sea,
The brigantine still spreads her sails to ride..."

The brigantine has heeled once more—
The end of childish dreams in store.
The Soul was lost in lands unknown?
"A trifle..." whispers Heaven's throne.

No—horned gods are masters still
Of leading hearts through poisoned will;
Through filth, oblivion, painted skies,
Till ugliness is crowned as wise.

Enough of all this whining noise!
Let's seek again the sea's wild voice.
We'll leave behind cheap comfort's chain
And trust the wind, despite the pain.

Yet even plague and quarantine,
The grand PLANdemic's cold machine,
Could not prevent our fevered dreams
From steering Hell by unseen streams.

They led to war. They lead us still.
Now rises, brick by brick, the will
To build a worldwide Digital Camp,
Where every spirit fades and dampens.

The sails are torn. The hull grows thin.
The ropes decay. The rot sets in.
Along the shore the cannons wait,
Their shells are Lies, their smoke is Hate.

Fear is the powder. Lies ignite.
The barrage lasts through day and night.
Yet who condemns the witless mass?
They've long forgotten all that's lost.

Life itself seems "shvah"—undone.
The oldest story, never won.
Myths and fantasies conceal
The rot beneath what feels so real.

One choice remains for every soul:
To dream while sinking into the hole—
Or strip corruption of disguise
And meet the Truth with open eyes.

The brigantine comes home at last
And fires one final broadside blast.
Against the Empire built on Lies—
In vain... the crowd still shuts its eyes.

The captain's hair becomes a prize,
His scalp the trophy of the lies.
So fares the one who dares to steer
Against the current born of fear.

Privateers of Word and Thought,
The greatest wars by minds are fought.
Stand more boldly! Hold your ground!
Only thus your Self is found.

For kingdoms fall and banners fade;
Steel grows dull and debts are paid.
But one free thought sincerely spoken
Leaves a chain forever broken.

"I'm tired of endless words and endless strife,
Of loving weary eyes that long have cried...
Far off upon the blue freebooter sea,
The brigantine still spreads her sails to ride..."

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

The Brigantine

The brigantine sails through the storm,
The waves are black, the winds are warm.
Her sails are torn, her hull grows thin,
The ropes decay, the rot sets in.

Along the shore the cannons wait,
Their shells are Lies, their smoke is Hate.
Fear is the powder, Lies ignite,
The barrage thunders through the night.

Yet who condemns the witless mass?
They've long forgotten all that’s past.
They've lost the dreams they once possessed,
The buried hopes within the chest.

Life itself seems shvah — undone,
The oldest tale remains unwon.
Myths and fantasies conceal
The hidden rot beneath the real.

One choice remains for every soul:
To dream while sinking toward the hole,
Or strip corruption of disguise
And meet the Truth with open eyes.

The brigantine comes home at last,
And fires one final broadside blast
Against the Empire built on Lies —
In vain... the crowd still shuts its eyes.

The captain’s hair becomes a prize,
His scalp — the trophy of the lies.
So fares the one who dares to steer
Against the current born of fear.

Privateers of Word and Thought,
The greatest wars by minds are fought.
Stand more boldly! Hold your ground!
Only thus your Self is found.

For kingdoms fall and banners fade;
The steel grows dull, the debts are paid.
But one free thought sincerely spoken
Leaves every chain forever broken.

"I’m tired of endless words and strife,
Of weary eyes that long for life,
Of loving eyes that long have cried..."

Far off upon the blue freebooter sea,
The brigantine still spreads her sails free.
She rides beyond the fading night,
Still chasing Truth, still seeking Light.

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

Человек как средство

Кот наелся. Спит, зараза.
Жизнь ему не как проказа.
Человек — ему всё сразу
Надо. Также ждёт приказа.

Это вечная дилемма:
Цель и... средство. ТВАРЕЙ схема:
Обнадёжив, обмануть —
Окунуть в Ложь, Страх и Муть.

Средством быть — вот жизДни путь.

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

Честен будь, и одиноким
Станешь в мире однобоком.
А умён — совсем далёким
От безумств под Ложью, Проком.
Не безумств в мирке сём мало:
Это значит — ВСЁ пропало...

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

Будь? Муть,
Ложь, Жуть!!!
Прочь — Путь...

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

Путь: Жуть, Ложь, Муть.
Пал — не минуть,
Не обессудь,
Пожравшей Суть
И Явь беды.
Всем слабакам — туды.

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

Олице-твАр-ение Зла

ЛицетвАренье Зла: иуды,
Шизоиды и дураки.
И в лучшем случае паскуды.
Но на подъём всегда легки:

Их новый фюрер "вдаль" поманит —
Поверив, предадут, распнут.
И посреди Фашистской Срани
Вновь будут строить свой уют.

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

Бункерный дед.
Вонь, Ложь, Страх, Бред.
Гитлеру вслед —
Надо побед!
Клио вновь "нет!"
Крикнет в ответ,
Руша хребет.

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

Гудзон. Музон.
"Свобода слова".
Попался снова,
Коль мудозвон.

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

"Светлые дали"

Пол-Европы прошагали,
Ничего там не узнали.
Строй Совковый: в нём пропали,
Стоя что-то — типа "дали".

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

The Speech returns — the Dawn of Rebirth,
Foretelling renewal upon the earth.
The Knight of Words leaves the battle's breach —
All lies in silence. The Rhythm speaks.

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

The Return of Speech — Rebirth's first flame,
Heralding life in its ancient name.
The Knight of Words survives the fray —
All else is dead. Rhythm calls the Assembly.

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

Speech comes home — Rebirth draws near,
Breaking silence, ending fear.
Word-Knight stands when wars all cease —
Dead is all. Rhythm holds the Peace.

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

The poems find their way once more;
Such is the cycle at the core.
If you write for your own delight,
Loving rhythm, pure and bright,
Then Renaissance will fill your soul,
Driving Decadence from its role.

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

Poems always find return;
Energy must wheel and turn.
Write for no one but your heart,
Let the living rhythm start,
Then a Renaissance shall rise,
While Decadence before it dies.

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

Poems always circle back;
Energy stays on its track.
Write for no applause or fame,
Love the rhythm, not the name.
Then the Renaissance will grow,
Casting Decadence below.

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

Back and forth.
The fool feels worth:
"If something moves, then life must grow—
Who cares if all descends below?"

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

To and fro.
The mutant's glow:
"If something moves, then all is fine—
Though every step leads down the line."

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

Back and forth.
The freak finds worth:
"If it is moving, it must win..."
Though every road descends to sin.

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

Back and forth.
The fool is glad:
"Whatever moves can't be that bad."
Blind to the path that sinks to Night.

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

Heroin and contraband.
"Loose the hounds!"—the agencies command.
Where are you now, Escobar,
To cut their profits from afar?

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

Heroin. Contraband.
"Set them loose!"—the spymen command.
Where are you, Escobar,
To trim their margins from afar?

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

Heroin and smuggled gold.
"Hunt!" the secret services told.
Where is Pablo Escobar,
To shrink their take, however far?

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

Heroin and smuggled wares.
"Attack!" the hidden power blares.
Where are you, Escobar,
To slash their profits from afar?

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

Logic builds more walls than windows

Walls rise fast where logic reigns;
Windows bloom through greater pains.
Lies preserve their rigid throne,
Built on axioms carved in stone.

Then one breach broke through the wall—
There another world stood tall:

Spirit's realm, forever free.
Trust your Heart more frequently;
Think less with the captive mind—
Save the souls that chains still bind.

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

Logic builds up walls with ease;
Windows come through rarer keys.
Lies adore their grand design,
Ruled by axioms in line.

Then a crack appeared one day—
Beyond the wall another way:

Spirit's kingdom, bright and whole.
Hear your Heart before your skull;
Think less often—feel what's true,
Saving souls the chains run through.

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

Logic builds more walls than light

Walls are raised with flawless skill;
Windows come against the will.
Lies defend their cold domain,
Ruled by axioms' iron chain.

Then one opening split the stone—
Not a prison... but Unknown.

There the Spirit's kingdom starts.
Trust your Heart beyond your thoughts;
Think less often—listen deep:
Thus the soul escapes its keep.

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

Lies ran wild beyond all scale;
Fools were swallowed by the tale.
Lower than the deepest fall,
Still they charged—and lied to all.

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

Truth was drowned in endless lies;
Fools went blind before their eyes.
Past the Bottom, crushed by fear—
Back they came with lies to spear.

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

Total lies beyond all measure;
Fools embraced them as a treasure.
Beneath the Bottom fear held sway—
Still they lied and charged away.

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

Lies exceeded every bound;
Fools in falsehood nearly drowned.
Fear had dragged them far below—
Yet they marched with lies in tow.

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

World ; word ; moo:
Collapse into dung... moo.

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

World ; whirr ; moo:
All folds into bull... poo.

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

World ; murmur ; moo:
Meaning melts to muck... moo.

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

World... word... moo.
Mind folds into manure.

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

World ; mumble ; moo:
Then—collapse to dung. Moo...

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

Round the seal the words are cast
("Global Bedlam ends at last!").
World ; word ; moo:
Collapse to muck... Moo.
At its heart—a fig of scorn.
Find the Light that you were born.

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

Round the seal the legend streams:
"Bedlam ends with shattered dreams."
World ; murmur ; moo.
Everything folds into goo.
At the center—mocking sign.
Seek the Inner Light divine.

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

Around the seal these words are drawn:
"Global Bedlam now is gone!"
World ; word ; moo.
All collapses into goo.
In the crest—a mocking fist.
Find the Light that can't be missed.

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

Round the seal one phrase is wound:
"Bedlam's empire hits the ground."
World ; murmur ; moo:
Meaning melts to muck... moo.
At the core—a silent jeer.
See the Inner Light shine clear.

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

No Cross—cry, "Full Throttle! Fly!"
Such a choice is no surprise:
Height, Freedom, Beauty—rise!

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

Not the Cross—"Prop clear! Take wing!"
This choice means everything:
Height and Freedom, Beauty's spring.

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

Not the Cross—but "Take to sky!"
There's a reason, and here's why:
Height. Freedom. Beauty. Fly!

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

No Cross. Lift off instead.
That's the path the Spirit led:
Height. Freedom. Beauty ahead.

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

No Cross—only "Full Ahead!"
Choose the open skies instead:
Height, Freedom, Beauty spread.

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

The Zeroed One's no puppet made
By the screens that minds invade.
Nothing binds—and so you stay
Floating past their grim decay.

That's Nirvana: phase at zero,
Calm the current, still the flow.
While the world serves Fear and Lies,
You have reached the higher skies.

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

The Empty One's no TV slave,
Not a mind they could enslave.
Owning nothing, free you roam,
Far beyond their barren home.

That is Nirvana: zero phase,
Silent current, tranquil ways.
Fear and Lies consume the earth;
You ascend to higher birth.

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

Zeroed Soul—not screen-bred clay,
Not the prey they shape each day.
Nothing holds and nothing weighs;
You pass through their lifeless maze.

Zero phase—Nirvana's art,
Stillness flowing through the heart.
Fear and Lies possess the land;
You have reached a higher strand.

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

Zeroed One—not media's spawn,
Not another mind withdrawn.
Nothing clings, and so you rise,
Leaving dullness to its lies.

Zero phase—Nirvana's flame;
Current quiet, none to tame.
Fear and Lies infect the earth;
You have found your second birth.

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

The seal's imprint
Melts with sunset.
Sunset fades—
Off to Nothing... fool.

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

The seal's last trace
Dissolves at dusk.
Dusk grows dim—
Straight into Nothing, fool.

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

The seal's faint sign
Melts into night.
Night fades away—
Nothing awaits, poor wight.

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

Seal fades away.
Sunset turns gray.
Darkness has won—
Nothing, moron.

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

The seal's impression
Melts in the west.
Twilight grows dim—
Nothing calls, lost soul.

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

The System's Error? Art alone.
Its themes—Free Spirit, Freedom shown—
Like grinding steel upon the ears
Of lackeys serving tyrant spheres.
Corruption dressed as living truth;
Freedom stolen from our youth.
Honor exiled, Reason chained,
Spirit drowned where mire has reigned.
First comes Falsehood. Then the Mire.
Last comes Horror, rising higher.
Let Art explode their murky hell—
Where devils dream and darkness dwell.

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

Art—the System's fatal flaw.
Freedom, Spirit—what they abhor.
Like iron scraping hardened stone,
Such words offend the rulers' throne.
Filth disguised as normal life;
Freedom lost in endless strife.
Honor hunted, Reason sold,
Spirit buried in the cold.
Falsehood first, then murky night;
Terror crowns the final height.
Let your Art ignite the blaze—
Burn the demons' poisoned maze.

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

Art's the glitch they cannot bear.
Freedom, Spirit—danger there.
Every lackey shuts his ears;
Truth's the thing a tyrant fears.
Vice parades as common sense;
Freedom dies without defense.
Honor falls and Reason bleeds;
Spirit chokes on swamp-born weeds.
Falsehood first. Then sludge and blight.
Last of all—the reign of fright.
Break their kingdom with your Art;
Tear the devils' swamp apart!

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

Rebuilt. Cleansed. The excess gone.
What remains when all is done?
Just a pit where hills once stood...
Yet a Pit is not the Void.

---

Variant of the first line:
Rebuilt. Refined. The excess gone.

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

Strip away what need not stay.
What's left standing anyway?
Only where the hilltops lay—
Now a pit... yet not the Void.

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

Reassembly. Clearing too.
What's the remnant passing through?
Where two hills once touched the sky—
Now a pit... but not the Void.

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

Clear the clutter. Build anew.
What's still left when all is through?
Just a hollow where peaks had been...
Still, no Void is found within.

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

Rebuild. Remove.
What's left to prove?
A pit where hills once kissed the sky—
Yet not the Void. Not yet. Not I.

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

Food of the Living Dead

Falsehood is our daily bread;
Fear pours gravy on the spread.
The Horned Idol feasts on gavvah,
Grinding crowds to ash and slaughter.

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

Food of the Dead

Falsehood fills the beggar's bowl;
Fear is poured to feed the soul.
The Horned Lord devours gavvah,
Leaving common folk as cinders.

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

The Dead Men's Feast

Lies are porridge, served each day;
Fear's the gravy on the tray.
Horned demons gorge on gavvah,
Turning crowds to dust and shadow.

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

Food for Corpses

Lies—the porridge people eat.
Fear—the gravy on the meat.
The Horned God consumes gavvah,
Leaving nothing but the dust.

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

Slugs Beneath the Salt

Life-in-Death breeds endless chains;
Blustering fools parade their brains.
Spirit withers, fed by Fear.
No false god will judge them here—
Life-in-Death itself's the lash,
Driving souls to rot and ash.

Falsehood thrives; beneath the salt
Slugs become the world's gestalt:
Fit for fools who never see
Prison bars in slavery.
If no fences meet their eyes,
They believe the prison lies;
Petty grievances they store—
Fools are hopeless to the core.

Lies repeated, Fear replayed,
Build the scaffold, blade by blade.
CowID proved the pattern true:
Vermin bowed to senseless goo.
Reason, proof, and understanding
Lead the truthful to the branding.
Endless repetition weaves
Sham "beliefs" that skin deceives.

"Progress!" cries the hungry beast,
Feeding on possession's feast.
Spirit, Reason—cast aside,
Rarely welcomed, mocked with pride.
More restrictions, laws, and fright,
More deception dressed as right;
"Safety" forged for witless minds,
Daily burdens, tighter binds.

Cause and consequence erased,
Duty turned to joyless waste;
Step by step they tunnel through,
Far below the Bottom's view,
Till both Spirit and the Mind
Leave no living trace behind.

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

A worried voice cried:
"Hanging by a hair?"
"No—by a snot thread.
The Earth hangs by the hair."

---

Variant of the third line:

"No—by a strand of snot;

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

An anxious voice spoke:
"By a hair you swing?"
"No—by a strand of snot.
The Earth's the fragile thing."

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

A worried shout:
"By a hair?"
"No—a booger strand.
The Earth hangs there."

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

A trembling voice:
"Held by a hair?"
"No—by a drop of snot.
The Earth's the one hanging there."

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

Weariness draws near;
Great efforts—little here.
Lonely age remains
Pity wrapped in chains.
Do not mourn earth's dust
If your mind you trust.
All we built has cracked;
Gavvah now is lacked.
They have drained too deep—
Souls have sunk asleep.

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

Weariness comes slow;
Strength has little left to show.
Lonely twilight, fading flame—
Pity always speaks the same.
Mourn not dust that turns to clay
If your mind has found its way.
Our common cause has reached collapse;
Gavvah thins as darkness wraps.
Too much life the vampires drained
Where dim awareness long has reigned.

---

Variant of the last line:
From dim minds they long enchained.

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

Poker

A fool with jelly for a brain,
An ace tucked up his sleeve again;
He dreams he's Joker, wild and free,
That life's one giant poker spree.

The cardsharps always beat his hand—
Their game obeys no rules or plan.
The greatest trump they ever play
Is nonsense filling minds each day.

It's time to fleece the bloated fool,
Well-fed on slogans, taught at school.
His jelly wobbles—"What a shame!"
The sucker's cleaned out once again.

The Game rolls on from year to year;
The fog of nonsense thickens here.
Now poker spans the whole wide Earth,
For crippled minds of little worth.

The stakes? The scraps of freedom left.
The sharper smiles with practiced deftness:
He'll strip us to the final thread,
Then march us to the **New Camp** ahead.

There ends the Game—or so they claim;
The nonsense loops, forever the same.
The time has come to wake in fright—
The cardsharps cheat in open sight.

---

Variants for the last 2 lines.

Now everyone should shake with dread—
The cardsharps own the game instead!

-

It's time the sleepers understood:
The cardsharps rule for no one's good.

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

Leaving Hell

Murk consumes your strength each day;
Pseudo-life just drains away.
Lies and Horror, soft yet sure,
Kill the soul they cannot cure.

Fools keep stumbling through the Night,
Copying Evil left and right.
Megatons of total Lies
Outweigh nuclear demise.

Children of a phantom land,
Trusting nonsense, march on command.
Every loudmouth hunts for bliss,
Finding chains instead of this.
Madness spreads its poisoned seed,
Growing stronger through our greed.

CowID laid bare the trend:
Resistance met its bitter end.
Only scattered hearts stood fast—
Now they're hunted, unsurpassed.
Those who dared refuse to kneel
To the Global Circus Wheel.

"Search" itself becomes control;
Truth is branded harmful to the whole.
Facts that scratch the tyrant's hide
Are called terror, cast aside.
Soon they'll comb us, one by one,
To fit the mold of **HumuSnism** done;
Anyone who guards the spark
Of thought and soul within the dark
Will be branded outcast, fraud—
Enemy of State and God.

Know this Hell before too late.
Tell Genocide: **"No!"**—don't wait.
Cast out Falsehood, cast out Dread;
Leave delirium for dead.
Seek Reality and Light
Only inward—outside, Night.

Worlds without the Mind and Spirit
Rot to filth that none inherit.
Light seeks Light by nature's law;
Filth finds filth without a flaw.
So it happens, clear and true:
Through the storm a beam breaks through—
Source-Light piercing cloud and veil.

Leave Hell's deepest pit behind.
Walk toward the Source you'll find.
Leave the Abyss—awake, arise.
Choose the Real. Open your eyes.

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

At times, by nonsense overthrown,
Your path is wrapped in shade.
Stand like a mountain midst the Lies—
Drive every foulness away.

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

Sometimes nonsense clouds your way,
Darkening every mile.
Stand a mountain in the Lies;
Cast the vile exile.

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

Though nonsense veils your road with night,
And Falsehood fills the air,
Rise like a mountain, firm and bright—
Drive all foulness from its lair.

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

When nonsense clouds your way,
Stand mountain-high in Lies.
Drive every foulness out—
Let Truth alone arise.

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

The Claim

The Writers' Guild—
The Publishers' Build.
A Dreamers' Club—
Run from the Hub.
A Traitors' Ring—
Virtue's offering.
The Servants' craze—
Evil's living face.

Gaudy. Hollow.
Yet all still follow,
Chasing "God"
Or "Truth" they laud.
One regiment—
In Evil bent.
Its aim is plain:
Check Spirit's reign.

The hireling grins,
Machine-like spins.
The wise are stalled,
The just are mauled.
Lies fall like hail,
Fear fills the gale.
The media—Hell's faithful kin.

One mine alone
Is worth your soul:
The Search of Spirit.
Pan for its riches—
Then leave corruption behind.

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

Greed and treason crossed all bounds;
Lies and Fear dragged spirits down.
Madness claimed their broken minds—
Lost in Darkness, none it finds.

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

Venality. Greed untamed.
Lies and Fear—their souls were maimed.
Madness seized them, mind and heart—
Darkness tore their lives apart.

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

Greed ran wild beyond all measure;
Falsehood was their only treasure.
Madness swallowed every spark—
Now they're vanished in the Dark.

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

Greed unbound. Corruption's reign.
Lies and Fear consumed the brain.
Sense gave way to dark despair—
Nothing living lingers there.

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

Greed and treason knew no scale;
Lies and Fear would never fail.
Madness took them, stark and grim—
Darkness swallowed every limb.

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

The Void

The Void—the fall of Fear and Lies.
Back we go where pseudo-life still dies,
Yet awakened, clear of sight,
We shall build a world of Light.

Not a flock that blindly strays,
But one that walks in Truth's bright blaze.
Spirit joined with Reason stands—
None can break what Light commands.

Will the Living Word take form?
Perhaps... So let your courage warm.
Do not falter. Work. Create.
Think to roots—don't imitate.

Seek the Spirit's primal birth;
All else fades and has no worth.
Carry Light where souls are sealed—
Into every prisoned field.

---

Variant of the last stanza.

Seek the Spirit's primal birth;
All else is noise of little worth.
Carry Light through every wall—
To the Prison of the Soul!

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

The Garden of Paradise

Gladly to Paradise I'd race—
A loyal servant of the place.
My mind, a well-programmed machine,
Believes each lie it's ever seen.

It fires nonsense, round by round,
At other fools on nearby ground;
Their minds are dulled another way—
Yet all are lost within the play.

The task of splitting hearts is done:
The world is shelved, each shelf its own.
"My filth is sweet; yours reeks," they cry—
Thus fools are sorted, shelf by shelf, to die.

Here the Scaffold, there Moloch;
Different torments never stop.
One thing binds them, everywhere:
The crowd is kept in leash by Fear.

Gladly to Paradise I'd fly.
"My foe calls it Hell," comes the reply.
"We'll build Heaven here on Earth!"
So power boasts of noble birth.

Washington and Kremlin dream
Of bright utopias, so it seems.
CowID stripped the mask away:
The healer dealt death in broad daylight.

That was merely Act the First.
Crafty beasts will make it worse.
"Care" will finish what they start—
Scaffold, Moloch, Judgment's mark.

Still they promise Paradise...
Yet Heaven lives only in their lies.

---

Variants.

Gladly to Paradise I'd flee—
So says the slave they fashioned me.

-

Gladly to Paradise I'd fly;
That's what obedient minds reply.

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

The Fisherman's Song

The world's but a pond;
The catch is immense.
The baiting is Lies;
The nets—obedience.

Submit and believe.
A fish has no roar:
It's silent and dull,
So trawling is war.

Pour poison with care
Into the still lake.
Rule through fear and despair—
Call plunder "the Way."

Call shamefulness virtue;
Persuade every school:
"So always it's been—
Just water, not blood."

Old Neptune looks on.
He never need speak;
He masters the tackle—
The Lies and the Fear.

The lackey who fishes,
A creature for sale,
Will carry each order,
Both public and veiled.

One order's for minnows;
The secret decree
Is kept for the few
Who kneel at the knee.

The poison runs deep;
The pond starts to die.
Decay fills the water;
The stench floods the sky.

"Don't question foundations!"
Keep shouting, "All's well!"
You'll "save" all the children—
As supper for Hell.

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

From the cold and from the need
We shall mine the gold indeed.
North. Kolyma.
Russia's lost its mind.

---

Variant of the last line:
A nation lost its mind.

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

Cold and hunger, side by side—
Gold is all they'll ever find.
Northward—Kolyma.
Russia's lost its mind.

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

Cold and hunger forge the gold;
That's the tale forever told.
North. Kolyma.
Madness rules Russia.

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

Cold and hunger lead the way;
Gold we'll wrest from frozen clay.
North—Kolyma's claim.
Russia's gone insane.

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

Cold. Hunger. Gold.
That's the story we've been sold.
North—Kolyma's frozen scar.
Russia lost itself by far.

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

Немезида

Вместо пьянки спозаранку
Снова клюну на обманку:
Ложь сильнее алкоголя
Губит ум, жжёт Дух, а воля

Превращается в мочало.
В Лжи народца больше пало,
Чем в наркотиках и водке.
"Нахожденье посерёдке"

Хуже дикого запоя.
Но опять трындят иное:
Это норма, мол, — легка
Немезида дурака:

Покарает, коль не веришь,
Не потворствуешь, а ценишь
Честность, прочие остатки
Жизни прежней. А коль хваткий

И послушный-"простодушный",
В подчиненьи, в вере ушлый,
Немезида наградит —
Недоумков всюду бдит,

И вовсю в эфир ****ИТ.

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

Мультипликация и Пирамида общественного идиотоустройства

Тьме раболепствуя всё больше,
Приобретаешь много "благ",
И прокоптишь, возможно, дольше —
Пока не встретится овраг:

Предатели, приспособленцы
Для Зла расходный матерьял.
Пока ж выкидывай коленце,
Тем вытесняя мысль, что ПАЛ.

Овраг зароют и сначала
Начнут про "белого бычка".
Немало так в веках пропало:
Приманки сплошь — для дурака.

А не дурак, уйди в сторонку,
Тем охраняя Ум и Дух:
Вся пирамида из подонков,
Придурков и безумных слуг.

Уйдя в себя как в скит, ты сможешь
Через Прозрения найти
Первичный Свет, тем Ум умножишь —
И сможешь Ясность обрести.

Без Ясности Тьма добивает
Остатки Духа — ерунда,
Что он бессмертен — Ум лажает,
Не видя, что кругом СТАДА.

Кругом СТАДА, а пирамида —
Большая клетка: скотство сплошь —
Доказано в года говнида.
Спасенье: Ясность приумножь.

Спасенье Духа — вот задача.
Всё остальное — ерунда.
И не поможет в том удача:
Года "напрасного труда",

Что в одиночестве доводят
До исступления, — вот Путь.
Пока ж придурки колобродят,
Сплошь умножая Муть и Жуть.

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

At the Final Line, or Boiling Out the Lice

The system's old before the Flood—
The Flood itself is drawing near.
Yet other slogans fill the blood:
"The worst is coming!" loud and clear.

To those awake, alert with dread,
No place remains in filth and lies.
A soul in falsehood walks half-dead—
Let Fear consume the fools it buys.

That's how the foul foundations stand,
Of servitude no chains can break.
But speak not of the Sun's command!
Its rays the sleeping spirit wake.

The elder folk recall the dawn—
Its light was brighter, warm and true.
Now CO;'s the sacred song:
"Cut more! Obey! Start life anew!"

No radiant future waits ahead
Where slavery and madness reign.
Their cloak of lies is thickly spread;
Not even wit can pierce the stain.

The honest and the watchful few
Can only wait till darkness ends.
The rare wise soul still struggles through,
Surrounded by well-fed vermin friends.

Consumption, nonsense, moral rot—
The world's prevailing creed today.
Dark laughter is the final lot,
When Hell's last border bars the way.

---

Ending variants.

Consumer lust and crawling vice—
The world's defining marks remain.
One thing is left: to mock the lice
While standing at the Gates of Pain.

--

Consumer cult and filth combined—
The badges of the age we see.
A bitter laugh is all we find
At Hell's last line of destiny.

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

System Failure

System failing—
Spirit trailing,
Logic breaks and drifts apart.
Step outside—keep soul and heart.

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

System Crash

System broken—
Spirit's token
Lost in logic's hollow art.
Stand outside—stay whole at heart.

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

System Fault

System failure.
Spirit's failure.
Logic scatters into night.
Stand outside—and stand upright.

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

System Error

System error—
Spirit's terror.
Logic falls and comes apart.
Stand outside—you're not the marred.

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

System Failure

The system breaks—
The Spirit wakes.
Logic scatters, torn apart.
Stand outside... and keep your heart.

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

System Glitch

System failure—
Spirit's savior.
"Logic" falls in tangled rot.
Step outside—you're not forgot.

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

System Crash

System crash—
Spirit's flash.
"Logic" stumbles, lost in fraud.
Stand apart—and stay unmarred.

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

System Fault

System fault—
Spirit's vault.
"Reason" wanders, split in two.
Stand outside—and stay true.

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

Culture's Cozy Niche

Culture's cozy little trade:
Fools and foolesses parade,
Preaching to the waiting mass
What they're told—through strain and farce.

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

Culture's Easy Pay

Culture grants an easy stay:
Fools perform for cushy pay.
To the crowd they loudly preach
What they're ordered all to teach.

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

Culture's Sinecure

Culture's sinecure once more:
Fools take up their scripted chore.
To the masses, dull and grim,
They recite the approved hymn.

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

Culture's Payroll

Culture keeps them well supplied:
Fools on every platform ride.
To the mob they drone on cue,
Pushing what they're told is true.

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

Failure Ends

Failure ends—
Silence bends.
All dissolves; no other way:
Matter's chains have sealed the day.

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

The End of Failure

Failure's done.
Silence won.
All must crumble, all must fall—
Matter forged the prison wall.

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

Closing Failure

Failure closes.
Silence grows.
Ruin was the only course,
Bound by Matter's prison-force.

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

A Final Full Stop

Failure—ended.
Silence blended.
Nothing else could come to be:
Matter forged captivity.

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

Erasing Poets for Decades

Mandelstam—
Gone. The sham
Still goes on from age to age:
"Attack!"—the honest, clear-eyed sage.

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

Erasing the Memory of Poets

Mandelstam—
Lost. What sham!
Nothing's changed beneath the sun:
Truthful souls are hunted on.

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

Poets Erased

Mandelstam—
Silenced. Damn.
History repeats once more:
"Get the honest!"—hear the roar.

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

Forgotten Poets

Mandelstam—
Rubbed from time.
Still the same relentless cry:
"Hunt the truthful! Let them die!"

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

The Pen

Stalls. Swill. A flock of sheep.
Fear. Madness. Lies run deep.
Their shepherd grips with iron grin:
A vampire, Satanist, cretin.

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

Sheepfold

Pen. Slop. A mindless flock.
Fear. Delusion. Fraud. Mock.
Their shepherd rules with grasping hand—
A fiend too vile to rightly stand.

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

The Fold

Stall. Swill. Obedient sheep.
Fear. Falsehood. Madness deep.
Their shepherd, eager for command:
Ghoul, Satanist, idiot grand.

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

The Sheep Pen

Sheep pen. Swill. A bleating herd.
Fear. Madness. Every word
Serves a shepherd, cold and mean:
Satan's leech. A witless fiend.

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

Gangs, fear, and propaganda—
That's the North's own Uganda.
Stagnant minds. Oil. Gas. Deceit.
Beasts give orders—they compete.

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

Gangs and fear and propaganda—
Welcome to the Northern Uganda.
Oil and gas, dull minds that cower—
Beasts command with borrowed power.

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

Gang and terror. Propaganda—
Northern-style Uganda.
Oil and gas, dull minds obey;
Beasts decide what all must say.

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

Gangs. Fear. Endless propaganda—
Turns the North to dark Uganda.
Sluggish minds and fossil gold—
Beasts command, both bought and sold.

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

Gangs. Fear. Propaganda's reign—
North becomes Uganda's chain.
Oil and gas. Minds cold as clay.
Beasts command—and all obey.

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

Comrade, trust—the price will soar
On food and cheap consumer store.
They drag the world below the Deep:
A war on Mind and Spirit keeps.

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

Comrade, have no doubt at all:
Food and bargain goods will climb.
Lower than the lowest fall—
Spirit, Reason: crushed by time.

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

Comrade, faith will be repaid—
Higher prices every day!
Food and junk grow ever dear,
While Mind and Spirit disappear.

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

Comrade, soon you'll plainly see:
Prices rise triumphantly.
Down beneath the deepest night—
Spirit, Reason—they must fight.

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

Comrade, trust—the prices climb:
Food and junk cost more each time.
They drive the world beneath the Deep—
Against the Soul and Mind they keep
A ceaseless war.

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

Comrade, trust—the prices climb;
Food and junk cost more each time.
They drag the world below the Deep—
On Soul and Mind they wage their siege.

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

Comrade, trust—the prices climb;
Food and junk cost more each time.
They drag the world beneath the mire—
Mind and Spirit under fire.

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

Die—and never watch again
This insane and vulgar Hell.
Faith alone condemns you then.
Death's the gate where rebirth dwells.

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

Better die than watch this Hell,
Madness dressed in cheap disguise.
Trust in anything? They tell:
"You're the villain!"—thus they cry.
Rebirth comes through Death alone.

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

Die before your spirit bends;
Spare your eyes this vulgar Hell.
Faith makes outcasts in the end.
Death alone breaks open shells.

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

Die—and never see again
This insane, profane abyss.
If you still believe—you'll gain
Only blame. Through Death comes bliss.

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

Die—and never watch this Hell,
Madness clothed in cheap disguise.
Faith brands every soul unwell.
Death lets Life again arise.

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

Die—and turn your eyes away
From this mad and vulgar Hell.
Faith makes outcasts every day.
Through Death, rebirth begins to dwell.

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

Facts? Fabrications, fraud and lies,
Tampered truths in neat disguise.
Media gods reshape the sky—
Beasts forge worlds and call them "true."

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

Facts? Just fiction, fraud and lies,
Twisted proof in smart disguise.
Media gods create the scene—
Brutish beasts behind the screen.

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

Facts? Forgery. Fraud. Deceit.
Truth made false, yet looks complete.
Media gods play God all day—
Brutes invent the world we pay.

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

Facts? Fictions. Frauds. Distorted views.
Counterfeits dressed up as news.
Media gods create their scheme—
Creatures manufacture dreams.

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

Facts? Fabrications, fraud and lies.
Truth dressed up in false disguise.
Media gods play God anew—
Beasts forge worlds and call them true.

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

Fascist Regime

Fascist regime—
They poison the dream.
Their "country" is smoke,
A hollow-made joke.
Down into the abyss
We all plunge like this.

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

Fascist State

Fascist regime—
Rot planted from teen.
The "nation" is mist,
A lie tightly kissed.
We fall through the seam—
All lost in the stream.

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

The Fascist Machine

Fascist machine—
They rot us unseen.
The "homeland" is smoke,
A poisonous joke.
With lies as our guide,
We fall down the slide.

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

Fascist Regime

Fascist regime:
They poison our dream.
The "country" is haze—
A trick and a phrase.
We rush to the rim...
And fall in the dim.

---

Variant of the 2 last lines.

All plunge to the abyss—
No turning from this.

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

The Kingdom of Genocide

The Realm of Medicine — a throne
Where Symptoms rule as kings alone.
Fear is the master of the hall,
And side effects? Ignored by all.

The patient is no living soul,
But merely used to serve a goal:
For trials, profit, endless gain —
A numbered object in the chain.

The vermin marched through every stage
Of rot and ruin, age by age;
The final truth their horns unlock:
The Devil reigns above this flock.

In this dark realm, virology
Becomes the peak of demonology.
Once witches were the ones to blame;
Now viruses receive the name.

With noise and panic, fear is spread
Among the weak, the poorly led.
The cruel will always find a way
To make their twisted claims hold sway.

They'll praise the worth of useless things,
Of poisoned gifts with hidden stings —
A slow-made toxin, sweetly sold
To foolish minds and hearts of gold.

A shot — a joke. The cruel ones laugh
At those who question their false path.
The coming horrors mark the road,
Milestones toward the Hell abode.

Drive lies and fear into the crowd,
Wrap false diseases in a shroud;
Convince them masks are less effective
Than doubtful cures made "protective."

The madhouse marches, proud and blind,
Toward Hell — where human souls unwind;
Where, stripped of reason, stripped of grace,
They turn to beasts and lose their face.

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

History's Cycle: The Repeating Patterns of Imposed Illusions

Nonlinear history:
Patterns rise and patterns fall,
Artificial misery
Repeats its ancient call.

"Victory!" — the fools proclaim,
Blinded by their empty pride;
Only beasts can win the game,
While the victims multiply wide.

Countless servants of the lie
Sing their propaganda songs:
"Freedom!" "Progress!" — words that fly
From their loud and hollow tongues.

When all scales are truly weighed,
What remains beneath the mask?
Lies and fraud, a grand charade,
Madness answering every task.

Fear spreads everywhere like gas,
Poisoning the human mind,
Driving down the rotten mass
Toward a madness undefined.

Those who pose as sages speak
With a wisdom thin and fake;
Empty voices, hollow, weak,
Wear the crowns they never make.

Like a worm that slowly gnaws,
Hopelessness consumes the few
Who still feel the hidden flaws,
Who still dream and create anew.

What is pushed becomes the prize,
What is marketed must be great;
Yet beneath the glitter lies
Only emptiness and fate.

Then comes the final stage:
No more strength to live or sing.
History's nonlinear age
Turns to a distorted thing.

Into a phantasmagoric night,
Into barriers built of lies,
False diseases, borrowed fright,
Artificial worlds will rise.

Degradation reaches peak,
Everything decays and fails.
What emerges from the bleak,
Rotten foam of poisoned tales?

One conclusion cuts through all:
No exceptions. None remain.
After climbing through the fall —
Everyone is lost again.

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

The Reader — The Inner Editor

The Reader — an editor,
If not a betrayer;
He rewrites the trash
With a mind rising higher,
Beyond all the ceiling
Of frauds in the text.
In this broken world,
Where the false is a pretext,

A pretext to sink
To a kingdom below,
Where the "god" wears horns
And the dark currents flow.
Thought turns into curses,
The Spirit in check —
A game lost by silence,
With no way back.

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

Reader and Writer

Reader — the writer,
If not the betrayer.
He fixes the nonsense
With thoughts ever higher.

When fraud fills the pages,
And lies wear a mask,
He rebuilds meaning
Beyond the false task.

In this crippled world
Where deception is key,
A lie is a doorway
To worse misery.

Where "God" wears the horns,
Where reason is numb,
Where thought becomes poison,
And Spirit is — checkmate.

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

Game Over

A nomad in a frozen hut,
A fool inside the Parliament,
A tyrant hiding underground,
The herd locked in its fenced enclosure.

"Reason" drowned in evil's stench —
That is the media's great venture.

They believe. They bow. They follow.
Getting dumber, growing hollow,
Driven by fear, by lies surrounded,
Never asking, never doubting.

Thus they slowly turn to cattle,
Raised for slaughter, fit for battle.
Those who sink and lose their way
Sell their Spirit to the grey.

No horizons, no tomorrow —
Only evil's endless sorrow.
Dark days break through every wall,
Though they dream and claim: "All's well."

"Everything is fine," they say,
While the beast grows every day.

Strength is fading, lies are spreading,
Fear is planted, minds are dreading.
Rot consumes and slowly wins,
Crushing what remains within.

Darkness rises. Time is up.
Soon they drink the bitter cup.

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

The "Silken" Way

A lone wolf knows
How the path of Death flows.
When a beast clicks the lock —
Blood. Grass feels like silk cloth.

By the "Silken" Way
We shall leave Evil's sway,
Find the light of the day,
Not as cattle decay,
Not as dogs we remain —
That is happiness' claim.

The lies of the vile
Walk with Darkness in style;
A pact with the night,
A marriage with blight.

Better break free,
Even shattered to be.

The question remains:
Through the storms and the chains,
Did you find your own road
To save your soul's load?

Your "Silken" Way lies
Past the horrors and lies.
The wolf's nature is clear:
Death walks always near.

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

School Curricula

School curricula:
To the shallow minds
Seem to be designed
Just for their own kind,

For the "light" of learning,
Not the slow returning
Of the free-born thought,
Bold and brightly wrought.

Faded are the patterns,
Foreign tons of matters —
A tool to make the Mind
Lose itself, confined.

Till a spark of Reason
Buried in the season
Of the endless trash
Turns to dust and ash.

Then the Spirit's throne,
Once above the known,
Falls beneath the brain —
A servant in the chain.

You become a tool,
A number in the school.
Much effort has been spent
On the perfect mechanism:

Plans and manuals sharpened,
Every pathway darkened —
Till the crowd's "mind" flies
Like a bird that never flies.

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

Authorship: Dictatorship

Authorship: dictatorship
Will hollow out all things,
That dare resist its rhythm —
And break them on its wings.

Rot seeks its nourishment,
Its fertile, foul domain:
The Kingdom of Decay
Where nothing blooms again.

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

The Author Is the Tyrant

The Author: Tyranny.
It strips away the whole
That moves not in its rhythm,
And mutilates the soul.

The rot demands its soil,
The decay its breeding ground —
The Kingdom of Corruption
Where life is never found.

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

Axiom as Sarcoma

An axiom like a cancerous growth
Has eaten deep into the mind;
No escape remains, no path —
No cure, no truth to find.

The madhouse stands upon this base,
While Lies and Madness crown the dome;
If "matter" is the only face
Of all existence known.

Then only Hell can be the end,
A realm of darkness, cold and stark,
Whose final purpose is to send
The Spirit banished into dark.

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

The Axiom's Plague

An axiom — a hidden scar,
A cancer rooted in the brain;
The madhouse built upon its core,
With Lies and Madness as its reign.

If Matter becomes the only law,
The only pattern, final frame —
Then Inferno opens its door,
And Spirit vanishes in flame.

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

Alan Shore — Court in Stagnation

Alan Shore — the court stands still,
They announce the final will.
Once again, absurdity reigns,
A "legal mind" more cruel than chains.

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

The Verdict

Alan Shore — the courtroom waits,
A verdict echoes through the gates.
Again, the nonsense takes the throne,
A "lawman" worse than thieves unknown.

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

The Archaeologist

An archaeologist — a speleologist
Of caves where Darkness sets the law,
He digs out frauds and falsehoods hidden,
To strengthen myths that minds adore.

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

The Cave Explorer

An archaeologist of the night,
A spelunker of forbidden caves,
Brings up deception from the depths —
To build the phantoms Darkness saves.

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

Ballad: "You'll Turn to Filth"

You’ll gain the gold,
Your joys unfold,
So bright the final day.
But you won’t reach
That promised beach —
You’ll vanish on the way.

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

Ballad: "The Price of Becoming Vile"

You’ll chase the treasure,
You’ll find your pleasure,
Or so the shadows say.
But when you run
For what you’ve won,
You’ll fade and fall away.

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

The Struggle for "Freedom"

The fight for "freedom"
Is bait for the feeble,
Who've lived in their chains
For centuries, in vain.

Thus Darkness commands
With fools in its hands:
A valve is provided —
The pressure divided.

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

The "Freedom" Valve

The fight for "freedom" —
A trick for the timid,
For those who for ages
Have bowed to their cages.

So Darkness controls
The broken and dull:
It opens a valve —
Lets steam out of all.

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

Presence in Absence

In absence — Presence appears.
In Presence — nothing remains.
To inner worlds, the pathway steers;
Outside — truth through falsehood drains.

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

Within and Without

In absence — there is Presence.
In Presence — only void.
The inner worlds give guidance;
The outer ones are destroyed.

A sieve for lies is all we see
Beyond the mind's own gate;
While inward paths reveal the key
To what transcends our fate.

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

Under Strict Conditions

Under strict conditions,
The foundation is deception.
Liars rise like gods above,
With empty minds and empty love.

Their only skill is endless speech,
A polished mask they always teach.
"Come on — embrace the change!" they cry,
From chains to gallows — march and die.

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

The Stage of Change

In rigid times,
The base is lies.
The liars play
As gods in disguise.

With little thought
But endless chatter,
They promise change —
Yet nothing's better.

"Forward!" they shout,
"Break free today!"
From prison's gate
To the block they stray.

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

Classified

The "Classified" mark pecks away
At the corpse of a nation in decay.
The people are spent, their fate concealed —
By hidden genocide, then openly sealed.

The secret vultures strip the bone,
The final blow comes fully shown;
A plague of cruelty, cold and wide —
Like CowID spreading far and wide.

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

Top Secret

The "Top Secret" vultures feed
On a country's dying seed.
Hidden slaughter takes its toll,
Open terror claims the whole.

First in shadows, then in sight,
Death advances through the night.
What was hidden breaks the lid —
Like the horrors marked "CowID".

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

The Cockroach

The cockroach rushes to the tray,
Where poisoned food is served today.
Everything rests on "two-D" sight —
He gladly avoids the deeper light.

And "happiness" would lose its ease.
The cockroach's joy is simple, small:
To crawl for food throughout it all.

His world is narrowed to the chase:
Consumption, breeding, empty plays.
To rare and sensitive souls appears
A filthy world of dust and fears.

The eyes of the rare ones slowly fade —
No future waits within this shade.
Only breakthroughs of ugliness rise,
While madness wears a normal guise.

The poison gathered through the years,
Through generations, minds and spheres;
In bodies too, decay is grown —
And finer worlds turn into stone.

The cockroach trusts tomorrow's day:
There will be food along the way.
It's plentiful, for all is given —
The war on Spirit has been driven.

---

Variant of the last stanza.

The cockroach smiles: tomorrow's bright,
The feast is ready, day and night.
For all that lives by base desire,
Has drowned the subtle in the mire.

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

Children of the School of Arbitrary Rule

Children in the schools of force
Strain themselves beyond all course.
So the hunger for career
Kills the sense that should be clear.

Is this progress? Is this rise?
Or just a mad race in disguise?

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

The Career Race

Children in the schools of pressure
Live in constant, harsh displeasure.
Thus the climb for rank and name
Burns the common sense to flame.

Is it growth they chase so fast?
Or a leap into the abyss?

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

Dissidents

Dissidents — a part of the scheme,
Of madhouses and camps unseen.
A hundred pages list the themes
That must not ever be touched or seen.

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

The Dissident's Place

Dissidents belong to the system's frame,
To prisons, wards, and halls of shame.
A hundred pages mark the lines
Where forbidden thought no longer shines.

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

The Dragon "Fearful Fight" and the Fool

"Fearful Fight" — the final war,
Not with enemies anymore,
But with yourself you march alone,
Through fear and lies that you have known.

A restless fool in shadows turns,
Where borrowed darkness slowly burns;
The dragon feeds on hidden fright —
A phantom born of falsehood's night.

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

The Dragon "Fear the Fight"

"Fear the Fight" — your final day,
Not against a foe you stray.
You face yourself, your deepest wrath,
With fear absorbed along the path.

Through lies you wander, blind and stark,
A restless fool within the dark.

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

Still Waiting

You wait for something, hoping still,
In a world that bares its will;
A world with lies that grin and bite,
That crush the Mind and Spirit's light.

Yet speaks in whispers, day by day,
Of "progress" marching on its way.

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

Waiting for Tomorrow

Still you wait, still you believe,
Still some hope you won't leave.
In a world of snarling lies,
Where the Mind and Spirit die,

While they mutter, soft and slow,
"Progress comes" — and onward go.

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