The Integral Mind
"The integrated natural mind, undivided into intellect, emotions, sensations, and intuition, is our greatest treasure and the key to our progress."
— Tarthang Tulku, "Time, Space, and Knowledge".
The whole of Mind —
A force, a blade.
Where dark thoughts grind,
It cuts their shade.
If in Hell’s grip
You feel no dread,
Your mind’s adrift,
A beast misled.
This global ward —
A madhouse reign —
Where fools adored
March on, insane.
And beasts above
Are hard at play:
If you lack love
Or voice — you’re prey.
Consumed like swill,
They’ll gnaw your head.
If you feel ill,
Condemn this bed
Of stench and spite —
Then break it down.
And seek the Light,
While fiends still frown.
Their grip will fade
Where shines the fire.
The light you made —
It burns the liars.
Intuition —
The Soul’s true wing.
To save your mission,
Don’t heed their sting.
They lie and plot
In every noise.
Break every knot,
Refuse their toys.
Throw off the chains,
Melt down their steel.
Begin again
With living will.
This world’s a noose
Of barking freaks —
Where truth’s abuse
Is all it speaks.
Build with the few.
Burn what is fake.
To be a man
Make spirits wake.
Emotions matter
When ruled by Soul.
But twisted chatter
Will eat you whole.
They train you blind
With fear and ******.
They target mind
And aim to seize.
Through feelings’ flood
They herd the crowd.
Tradition’s mud
Is worn like shroud.
Soul needs wings —
But Reason too.
Don't cut such things
Before they're through.
Reflect, not flail.
Let mind respond.
Let fear grow pale —
And break that bond.
Through art you'll rise,
Unite your core.
Where mind just dies,
The cowards pour.
Avoid the drones,
Find those who see.
The Light alone
Will set mind free.
The soul ignites,
The filth retreats.
And through true Sight
The Spirit peaks.
The whole of Mind —
Our only hope,
In Hell where rot
and noise still choke.
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1.
Whole is the Mind —
a blade through the lie.
Use it, or rot.
Awake — or die.
2.
When soul and thought align,
the Beast begins to fall.
3.
Split minds obey.
Whole minds rebel.
4.
In the madhouse of Earth,
your clarity is war.
5.
One Mind. One Flame.
Hell fears the name.
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1.
The Whole Mind burns
where form dissolves.
In Light it stands,
as time resolves.
2.
Not thought. Not dream.
The silent core
knows what you are
— and something more.
3.
The undivided flame within
unfolds the path you’ve never been.
4.
Where four were torn —
sense, thought, soul, breath —
the One returns
through light and death.
5.
Whole Mind — the gate
where Time dissolves.
Not born, not late —
it only solves.
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The Song of the Whole Mind
Not mind alone, nor heart that aches,
Nor breath that breaks in dreamlike skies —
But something vast the silence makes,
A fire behind all names and ties.
No parts remain — they melt, they flow,
And in their place: a single flame.
It neither strives, nor needs to know,
Yet through it speaks the true, the same.
Where Time and Space unweave their scheme,
Where thought itself begins to cease —
There Whole Mind wakes within the stream,
And what remains… becomes your peace.
---------------------
Mind Games
"From moment to moment, observe — is this our true nature, or just another game we’re playing?"
Tarthang Tulku
Look deep inside — expose the schemes,
The tricks by which the thinking mind
Preserves its wounds through crafted dreams
And leaves the soul half-dead, half-blind.
You meet the world — a ghostly show,
You meet yourself — a dull design.
You feed that image — and below,
It mocks you as a self-made shrine.
Forget the games — just look, and see.
Turn intuition's light on high.
Walk straight — alone, relentlessly —
To Spirit's core. That is the sky.
Now smash the molds — thought lives in these!
Real thinking dares to walk alone.
To **** the lie — that's where it frees
The soul. Let rot what's overgrown.
Illusions hang, a choking weight,
They blur the glimpse of realms untold.
The path is inward. Fools still wait
For truth in dirt, in blood, in gold.
But only Spirit’s plane holds fire.
No sludge, no swarm of flies, no throne.
This world — a toilet’s last desire.
Without the Light, we rot alone.
---------------------
1.
Smash the game.
See the lie.
Mind is shame.
Spirit: sky.
2.
You are not thought.
You are the flame.
**** every image.
Refuse the game.
3.
This world is filth —
if you stay blind.
Burn through the mask.
Unchain your mind.
4.
No light in thought.
No soul in fear.
Cut through the rot.
Get out of here.
---------------------
1.
Not this thought.
Not this name.
You are light,
Before all frame.
2.
Inward fire,
Subtle stream —
Breaks the mask,
Ends the dream.
3.
Before the lie,
Before the voice —
The silent core,
The only choice.
4.
The world dissolves.
The eye remains.
One pulse inside,
Beyond all chains.
---------------------
1. Lie
A mask of thought,
A voice that feigns —
The self you sought
Was bound in chains.
2. Sight
Look not through mind,
But through the still.
Let forms unwind —
They have no will.
3. Breakdown
The dream resists
Until it breaks.
No "I" exists
In thought that fakes.
4. Turning point
No image true,
No path ahead.
Just silence — new,
Where lies are dead.
5. The Gates
Beyond the fear,
Beyond the frame —
The Light draws near
Without a name.
6. Flame of the Spirit
This is no game.
This is the Fire.
It has no shame.
It asks — aspire.
7. Liberation
The soul unchained
No longer hides.
The false is drained —
The One abides.
---------------------
The Very First and Crucial Step
“Our perceptions of all things and space
Reflect the levels where we place
Our focused lens — that narrow sight
Which shapes what seems to us as ‘right.’
That rigid, dense, impenetrable frame
We cling to — fearing change, or blame.”
— Tartang Tulku, "Time, Space, and Knowing" (poetic exposition).
We must defocus — here’s the key,
The very step that sets us free.
Without it, light and joy elude—
Stuck blind and bare, with no prelude.
Like filters stained in shades of gray,
Theories cloud and block our way.
Throw off "belief" and "knowing" too—
See how profound the hole breaks through.
The power of worlds beyond the eye,
Exists outside that spectral lie.
In hell, decay and rot abide,
Where soulless beasts again collide.
They shout commands to broken minds—
Lost puppets chained in dark confines.
Their thoughts a gel, vile and obscene,
It suffocates, unseen, unseen.
Through all that slime, those cursed fools—
The shame and curse of cosmic rules—
To reach the Light, we must endure
A dreadful path, unknown, obscure.
The very first step, harsh and grim,
Is stepping through the senseless dim—
No soul can save itself from fate,
Unless it breaks that mental gate.
---------------------
Time
“Clocks don’t show time—they only stand
As symbols held in human hand.”
— Avessalom Podvodny
They drilled “time’s line” into our brains,
With nonsense meant to bind as chains.
If you don’t fight for self-true sight,
Your soul’s doomed, lost within the night.
Timelessness—when you can see
Through crowds and noise, society.
The Soul’s own realm lies far away,
Beyond the grasp of linear sway.
Cast off the lies, the rigid line,
But don’t fall prey to GR’s design—
Where sludge and filth are pushed around,
And falsehoods in “science” abound.
The world’s a void of madness deep,
Few escape its waking sleep.
Dive deep inside—rise from your knees—
Awake your mind! Break free with ease.
And Time, the secret truth profound,
Tartang Tulku’s words resound.
Turn inward, say “goodbye” firm and fast
To fascist filth that haunts the past.
Fascism’s everywhere—it’s true,
A cycle dead, repeating through.
Change serves a face that sinks and dies,
The mind decays, the spirit cries.
Lies shift and warp to dumb us down,
To keep the masses in their drown.
Pol ***’s ghost may haunt once more,
But lies will **** as war’s before.
They’ll inject new “illness” fake,
Poison the flesh for profit’s sake,
“Protecting” skin, but acting worse—
Reducing man to brutish curse.
Strive to Know, resist the Dark,
Relentless Search ignites the spark.
To truly Be—that is the fight,
Else slaves and madmen lose the light.
Trapped in this global madhouse grim,
Their bleak, dull path grows faint and dim—
In linear time, like coma’s death,
Absorbing shame and terror’s breath.
---------------------
Onward…
"The more we turn blind eyes away
From social webs and outer sway,
The tighter shrinks our conscious space
Of time and realms beyond this place."
— Tartang Tulku, "Time, Space, and Knowing" (poetic exposition).
We can move onward, only when
We grasp this Hell where lies extend—
A heap of falsehood, ruled by beasts,
Where human **** hold vile feasts.
Here mind decays, a rotting sight,
A genocide of truth and light.
Honor crushed, the spirit slain,
Conscience numb or lost in pain.
Yet they dance by hearth’s weak glow,
But we must shine and clearly show
The crooked paths, the pits, the blight—
Candles to pierce through endless night.
Only then can we say goodbye
To this foul Hell, to stink and lie—
Without choking on this age-old stench,
That hangs and clings, a poisoned wrench.
---------------------
Insane and Twisted Freaks
Insane and twisted freaks abound —
The norm, not rare, and long installed.
If filth and lies are all around,
Reject the sludge — don't stay enthralled.
It's time to grow, to rise, to see —
Go deep within — the truth is there.
The hole you hide in? Meant to be
A cage for cattle, dumb and scared.
That pit is built from pseudo-science,
From pantheons of ***** gods.
They lull with fear, demand compliance,
And dump their lies in endless loads.
They pump out fear to cull the herd —
Like CowID showed — a clean pretext.
The madness spreads. Absurd, absurd —
Disgust, despair, what’s coming next?
Insane and twisted freaks — and you
Are one of them if you just wait,
Enduring Evil, hoping to
Be slaughtered second. Pray it's late.
---------------------
Beyond the Limit
Step by step won't break the chain —
Only strain reveals the crack.
When all seems hopeless, lost in pain —
The only way is UPWARD — back!
Super-effort is the key
On the path the Spirit takes.
Fear’s your foe — ferocious, free —
It dies when EVERY FIBER breaks.
---------------------
Excess and Evil’s Machinery
Excesses of the “loyal” hands —
That’s how the plan is played:
Traitorous "heroes," zombie bands,
Each dumb, obedient blade.
They follow every twisted call,
With “virtue” smeared on top —
While horror festers under all,
The lies, the blood won’t stop.
These sick little corral pens
They proudly call "the state,"
Dissolve all higher Common Sense
And torch the Soul through hate.
And that’s enough — no need for more,
The minds are switched to dead.
They turn the world to crawling war —
And drown it all in DREAD.
---------------------
Fascists and Fools
The fascist screams, “You fascist ****!”
The fool shouts, “Fool!” — how very clever.
These freaks have all grown slick with tongue,
But write like hens — with sticks, whatever.
They quote some spells from their TV,
Or hallway gossip, loud and crude.
Yet real collapse is plain to see —
Their little world is coming un-glued.
Fools, fascists — swarming everywhere,
Depravity in overdrive.
Didn’t ****** make that clear?
Guess history took a nosedive.
---------------------
The Purge
Old folk ain’t fools — if thought ran deep
And didn’t rot through all their years.
But most just wallow in their sleep —
Like slime the Earth itself must clear.
The slime lives just to feed and bow,
Stay silent, meek, and serve the chain.
They’re not real people — more like how
A mutt is wolf in name... in vain.
Dull minds can heal, if fire within
Of true creation lights the way.
But here, the idiot’s no sin —
He festers, like a sore, each day.
It swells, it bursts — a septic flood
Of rot inside a crawling brain.
So comes the purge — a wave, a thud —
No place for fools will here remain.
The elder once again shall be
The citadel of wisdom, bold.
While every filthy lie we see
Will count as sin — and stink like mold.
---------------------
So-Called “Glory”
This “glory” is blended
With treason and lies.
If you serve the branded
Beasts for a prize,
If cash makes you kneel
And the spotlight feels grand —
Then Judas in steel
Takes Stenka’s stand.
The herds trail the traitors,
Like lambs to the flood.
Their idols? Dictators
All drenched in blood.
Their voices are paid for
With fame and with gold —
A “star” for the clay floor,
A slave bought and sold.
---------------------
Dough
Attachment’s the weakness they seek
In a world built on slaughter and lies.
For centuries — war on the weak,
While people get kneaded like pies.
They’re soft — easy prey for the leech.
The beasts mold them, numb and afraid.
They strike where compassion can reach —
And fools are the devil’s parade.
Be strong. Be sharp. Never cling.
The Spirit of Warriors stands
In honor alone — not in bling,
Not bound by the coward’s commands.
The world is diseased with decay,
With soul-rot that spreads like a plague.
To guard the Bright Spirit today —
Our mission. No time to play vague.
That Spirit — it shines, pure and clear.
Cling to the Light, if you must.
But cling to the rot? — disappear.
The Warrior answers: “Distrust!”
---------------------
You're dough in their hands if you cling.
The Warrior cuts every string.
---------------------
Vegetable Culture
There once was culture, real and bright —
Before the Veggie Age.
Now madness rules, and kills the light —
You must choose sides. Engage:
Be human — or be cabbage.
No middle ground remains.
The weak are grown for salvage —
Their silence feeds the chains.
But humans? — that’s forbidden.
The beast wants meat and fear.
No room for souls unhidden
Where Moloch’s priests draw near.
Gavvakh’s their prize — and veggie minds
Are simply far too slow.
In Satan’s shrines, the god that dines
Needs fire. Not mush. Not "low".
---------------------
Black Mark to a Mad, Mad World
The bottom is breached — there’s no turning back,
The gates of a New Hell swing open wide.
No cheese for the herd — just a rationed attack:
The Creatures serve Terror, pre-cut and supplied.
---------------------
Black-marked and broken — it’s time to descend.
The ration is horror. The madness won’t end.
---------------------
Cholera
Cholera cuts — but not through hearts or heads,
It mows down herds of ego-soaked buffoons.
This plague is lies, and all the power it spreads
Is pumped with zeal beneath these shadowed moons.
Deceit now clouds the world in toxic mist,
A shroud of gas that chokes both mind and soul.
And cholera strikes — the fools can’t resist,
Drawn like dumb rats to bait inside the hole.
---------------------
The Hell
Mariupol, Melitopol,
Bucha, Kharkiv, Kherson’s fall —
Is this the world, or just the Hell?
Reason’s fled the scene, that’s all.
And what remains of Spirit’s light
Is rotten, broken, on the edge.
If fascism rules the fight,
Only traitors stand its pledge.
---------------------
Ode to Crap
Crap! Crap!! Crap!!!
In many shapes it shows.
Laziness, laziness, laziness —
Kills the mind, and it goes.
Lies, lies, lies —
The core of all this mess.
Add fear to lies, realize —
The sum’s a total wreck.
Wreck, wreck, wreck —
This sorry world we face.
Crash! Crash!! Crash!!! —
Everything ends in crap’s disgrace.
---------------------
Bad Weather
Rain keeps pouring —
Darkness scoring
Deeper wounds inside,
Dragging long the tide:
From flood to flood — no hope to cope,
The next one’s coming — hell’s tight rope.
---------------------
The Money Ring
Again—the cash!
All in the ring!
Swinging wild, no mercy shown.
Look at us
With eyes unbiased—
Life’s wasted, fully blown.
All is beaten—
That CowID
Revealed the beasts who play the game.
We’ve fallen low—
Beneath the frame.
---------------------
A Contribution to Reason?
A tiny sum?
That’s the question, chum!
Life’s out of course,
Just a small force —
A little given... none.
---------------------
Old Tale of Lies and Greed
They stole and lied —
Broke down with pride
Honor and conscience deep.
That tale’s grown old —
A story cold,
In dust and shadows steep.
---------------------
Different Chances
“The chance to steal makes thieves arise,”
Francis Bacon, seventeenth’s wise.
The chance to shirk your mind —
Makes slaves, unkind:
To heed the beasts, consume their bait.
That slave’s a fool, sealed by his fate.
---------------------
The Chance Not to Think
The chance not to think
Breeds slaves who sink —
To heed the beasts, to crunch their lies.
Deceived, disposed,
Though death’s delayed,
Change comes swift beneath dark skies —
And in the night, the stench will scream,
A haunting, bitter, waking dream.
---------------------
Hoard!
Blare the horn —
Lies flood the land!
Feed soulless hordes — Bedlam’s brand!!!
---------------------
Total Greed
“Progress” flushed the greed anew,
Paper money’s grand parade.
In the game of false gain’s view,
Greed becomes our nature made.
---------------------
The Futility of Creation
Hard work done —
In vain, undone.
Will it be wiped away?
So much lies sway —
The rogue’s at play.
Gone, at last,
In Cloaca’s grasp.
---------------------
Voices — Almost Psychiatric...
Inner voice, the chorus of fools:
Light burns INSIDE, away with all tools! —
Hear yourself, beware the deeds
That serve the herd, not deeper needs.
---------------------
Voices — Near Madness
Voices roar — fools’ chorus wild,
Light’s inside — dump every child! —
Heed yourself, reject the games
Of “helpful” acts that feed the flames
Of shallow minds and hollow schemes,
Servants blind to others’ dreams.
***** their ‘good,’ their fake applause—
Only spirit’s truth has cause!
---------------------
Voices — Madness’ Edge
Light’s inside — fools to hell!
***** their “help,” their shallow shell.
Fake goodwill? Just empty noise—
Listen close, reject the toys.
---------------------
Sick World and Armageddon
A pitiful world, sick and weak,
Unaware it’s ill inside.
The simpleton, so mild and meek,
Keeps laws that bind and blind.
So health’s a question for the few —
The rare, dull herd that waits.
CowID showed what’s sadly true:
Patience seals their fates.
But some, the few who see it clear,
Know Death will bring release.
The end’s no fear, but burning near —
The Sun will scorch the peace.
---------------------
Sick Mind and Global Chaos
Few admit they’re sick inside,
Before the Soul’s true sight.
So madness grows in fading tide —
A wretched life, more blight.
---------------------
The Mind’s Health Worries
The mind’s health stirs few tender souls,
Most poor fools justify the lies.
They choke the truth — a bitter bone,
That grates and ****** the thinking wise.
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The Struggle to Heal
"One condition to recover—
The will to get well."
— Seneca, first century
How sick the world, and rare to find
A soul who truly seeks the sane,
Chasing "success," "praise," or "joy,"
Denying doubt, suppressing pain.
And little by little (no debate!)
The world seems "normal," "I’m a star"—
This sickness shapes the mind’s dictate,
And fools will rally near and far...
