THE ENIGMA OF TIME IN VERSE: PART TWO
Dear Friends, having introduced ‘The Enigma of Time in Verse’ in Part One, along with few selected poetic quotes, I now mention what some of the important Philosophers thought about Time down the past centuries. But while doing so, I have tried my best to simplify some of those early concepts for better understanding and appreciation of my readers. If you like it, kindly re-post the poem. Thanks,  – Raj Nandy of New Delhi.

          THE ENIGMA OF TIME IN VERSE : PART TWO
   I commence by quoting Sonnet 60 of Shakespeare about Time,
   Hoping to seek some blessings for this Part Two composition of
   mine!
“Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
  So do our minutes hasten to their end;
  Each changing place with that which goes before,
  In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
  Nativity, once in the main of light,
  Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown’d,
  Crooked elipses ’gainst his glory fight,
  And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
  Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
  And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,
  Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
  And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
  And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.”

              PHILOSOPHY OF TIME
Animals are said to live in a continuous present,
Since they have no temporal distinction of past, future,
or the present.
But our consciousness of time, becomes the most
distinguishing feature of mankind.
Though we are mostly obsessed with objective time, -
As the rotation of our Earth separates day from night.
With the swing of the pendulum and the ticking of clocks,
Which regulates our movements, while we try to beat the clock!
But the ancient theologians and philosophers of India and
Greece,
Who were among the first to ponder about the true nature
of all things,
Had wondered about the subjective nature of time;
Was time linear or cyclic, was time endless or finite?

GREEK PHILOSOPHERS ON TIME:
I begin with Heraclitus, the Pre-Socratic philosopher of 6th Century BC born in Ephesus.
He claimed that everything around us, is in a constant state of change and flux.
You cannot step into the same river twice Heraclitus had claimed,
Since water keeps flowing down the river all the while and never
remains the same.
This flow and change in Nature is a process which is ceaseless.
The only thing which remains permanent is impermanence!
Here is a quote from poet Shelley reflecting the same idea:
“World on world are rolling ever
  From creation to decay
  Like the bubbles on a river
  Sparkling, bursting, borne away.”

Now Heraclitus was refuted by Parmenides, born in the Greek colony of Elea,
On the western coast of Southern Italy, as his contemporary.
Parmenides said that our senses deceive us, since all changes are mere illusory!
True reality was only eternal and unchanging ‘Being’, which was both indivisible and continuous - filling up all space.
Zeno, a pupil of Parmenides, through his famous ‘Paradox of Achilles and the Tortoise’ had shown, that when the tortoise was given a head start,
Swift footed Achilles could never catch up with the tortoise,
Since the space between the two were infinitely divisible, resulting in the impossibility of movement and change in motion!
Now the Greeks were never comfortable with the Concept of Infinity.
They preferred to view the universe as continuous existing ‘Being’.  
However, unlike Heraclitus’ ‘world of change and flux’,
Both Parmenides and Zeno have presented us, with a static unchanging universe!
Thus from the above examples it becomes easy for us to derive,  
How those Ancient Greeks had viewed Time.
Time has been viewed as a forward moving changing entity;
And also as an illusory, continuous and indivisible Being!
To clarify this further I quote Bertrand Russell from his ‘History of Western Philosophy’;
“Creation out of nothing, which was taught in the Old Testament, was an idea wholly foreign to Greek philosophy. When Plato speaks of creation, he imagines a primitive matter, to which God gives form as an artificer.”

PLATO AND ARISTOTLE ON TIME:
For Plato, time was created by the Creator at the same instance when he had fashioned the heavens.
But Plato was more interested to contemplate on things which lay
beyond the sway of time and remained unchangeable and eternal;
Like absolute Truth, absolute Justice, the absolute form of Good and Beauty;
Which were eternal and unchangeable like the ‘Platonic Forms’, and were beyond the realm of Time as true reality.
Plato’s pupil Aristotle was the first Greek philosophers to contemplate on reality inside time, and provide a proper definition as we get to see.
He said, “Time is the number of movement in respect to before and after” - as a part of reality.
To measure time numerically, we must have a ‘before’ and an ‘after’, and also notice the difference objectively.
Therefore, time here becomes the change which we see and experience.
Time takes on a linear motion moving from the past to the present;
And to the unknown future like a moving arrow travelling straight.
Aristotle had developed a four step process to understand everything inside of Time and within human experience:
(a) Observe the world using our senses,
(b) Apply logical rules to these observations,
(c) To go back and consult past authorities, if your logic agrees with their logic,
(d) Then only you can come to a logical conclusion.

No wonder in our modern times, experiments conducted by the LDC or the Large Hadron Collider, located 100m underground near the French-Swiss border,
By going back in time simulates the ‘Big Bang’ conditions, that moment of our universe’s first creation.
The scientists thereby, study the evolution of our universe with time, which  resulted in the  finding of the Higgs Boson !  (On 4thJuly 2012)

NOTES :  All elementary particles interacting with the Higg's Field & obtain Mass, excepting for photons & gluons which do not interact with this field. Mass-less photons can travel at the
speed of light with a mind boggling 186,000 miles per second! Now this LDC is a Particle Accelerator 27 kms long ring-shaped tunnel, made mostly of superconducting magnets, inside which two high-energy particle beams are made to travel close to the speed of light in opposite directions, and the shower of particles resulting from the collision is closely examined, presuming that these similar shower of particles must have been produced at the time of the ‘Big Bang’ some 13.8 million years ago, at the time of Creation! Sound like fiction? Well, Prof. Peter Higgs got the Noble Prize for Physics, for locating the particle called ‘Higgs Boson’ among those shower of particles, on 10th Dec. 2013.

NOW TO LIGHTEN UP MY READERS MIND, FEW TIME QUOTE I NOW PROVIDE :

“TIME WASTES OUR BODIES AND OUR WITS,
  BUT WE WASTE TIME, SO WE ARE QUITS!” – Anonymus.

‘Time is a great Teacher, but unfortunately it kills its Pupils!’ – HL Berlioz

“Lost , yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two
   golden hours,
   Each set with sixty diamond minutes.
   No reward is offered, for they are gone forever!” – Horace Mann


PLOTINUS & ST. AUGUSTINE ON TIME:
Now getting back to our Philosophy of Time, there was Plotinus of the 3rd Century AD,
The founder of the mystical Neo-Platonic School of Philosophy.
He had followed Plato’s basic concept of Time as “the moving image of eternity.”
Mystic Plotinus tried to synthesize both Aristotle and Plato by saying that the entire process of cosmic creation,
Flows out of the ONE  through a series of emanation!
This ONE gave rise to the ‘Divine Mind’ which he called the ‘Realm of Intelligence’ and is an aspect of reality,
When everything is understood in terms of Platonic Forms of Truth, Justice, the Good, and Beauty.
However, the later Christian theologians had interpreted this ONE of Plotinus, -
As the Christian God, the Divine Creator of the Universe.
For God is eternal, in the sense of being timeless, in God there is no before or after, but only a timeless present.

Now this lead St. Augustine, to formulate a very admirable relativistic theory of Time!
St. Augustine, the greatest constructive teacher of the Early Christian Church, had written in Book XI of his ‘Confessions’ during  5th century AD, -
His thoughts about the enigma of Time which had perplexed the Greek philosophers of earlier centuries.
To simplify St. Augustine’s thoughts, I now paraphrase for the sake of clarity.
Time can only be measured while it is passing, yet there is time past, and time future in reality.
To avoid these contradictions he says that past and future can only be thought of as present: ‘past’ must be identified with memory, and ‘future’ with expectation.
Since memory and expectation being both present facts, there is no contradiction.  
“The present of things past is memory, the present of things present is sight; and the present of things future is expectation,” - wrote St. Augustine.

This subjective notion of time led St. Augustine to anticipate Rene Descartes the French philosopher the 17th Century,
Who proclaimed “Cogito, ergo sum” in Latin, meaning “I think, therefore I am”, and is regarded as the Father of Modern Philosophy.

Now cutting a long story short I come to Sir Isaac Newton, well known for his Laws of Motion and Gravity.
Newton speaks of ‘Absolute Time’ which exists independently, flowing at a consistent pace throughout the universe, which can only be understood mathematically.
Newton’s ‘Absolute Time’ had remained as the dominant concept till the  early years of the 20th Century.
When Albert Einstein formulated ‘Theory of Space-time’ along with his Special and General Theory of Relativity.

Now the German philosopher Leibniz during 17th century, had challenged Newton with his anti-realist theory of time.
Leibniz claimed that time was only a convenient intellectual concept, that enables to sequence and compare happening of events.
There must be objects with which time can interact or relate to as ‘Relational Time’ he had felt.
Ernst Mach, like Leibniz towards the end of 19th Century, said that even if it was not obvious what time and space was relative to,
Then they were still relative to the ‘fixed stars’ i.e. the bulk of matter in the universe.

CONCEPT OF TIME AS 'SPECIOUS PRESENT' :
During late 19th century, Robert Kelley introduced the concept of ‘spacious present’, which was the most recent part of the past.
Psychologist and philosopher William James developed this idea further by describing it as ‘’the short duration of which we are immediately and incessantly sensible’’
William James also introduced the term “stream of consciousness” into literature as a method of narration,
That described happenings in the flow of thought in the mind of the characters, - likened to an internal monologue!
This literary technique was later used by James Joyce in his famous novel ‘Ulysses’.

TIME CONCEIVED AS DURATION: HENRI BERGSON (1859 -1941)
Next I come to one of my favourite philosopher the French born Henri Bergson.
The Nobel Laureate and author of ‘Time and Free Will’ and ‘Creative Evolution’.
Will Durant in his ‘Story of Philosophy’ says Bergson was ‘the David destined to slay the Goliath of materialism.’
It was Bergson’s ‘Elan Vital’ that life force and impelling urge, Which makes us grow and transforms this wandering planet into a theatre of unending creation.
For Bergson, time is as fundamental as space; and it is time that holds the essence of life, and perhaps of all reality.
Time is an accumulation, a growth, a duration, where “duration is the continuous progress of the past which gnaws into the future and which swells as it advances.
The past in its entirety is prolonged into the present and abides there actual and acting.
Duration means that the past endures, that nothing is lost.
Though we think with only a small part of our past; but it is with our entire past that we desire, will, and act.”
“Since time is an accumulation, the future can never be the same as the past, -
For a new accumulation arises at every step, and change is far more radical than we suppose…the geometric predictability of all things, Which is the goal of a mechanistic science, is only a delusion and a dream!”  
Bergson goes on in his compelling lyrical style:            
“For a conscious being, to exist is to change, to change is to mature,
to mature is to go on creating one’s self endlessly. Perhaps all reality is time and duration, becoming and change.”
Bergson differed with Darwin's theory of adaptation to environment, and stated;
“Man is no passively adaptive machine, he is a focus of redirected force, a centre of creative evolution.”

Martin Heidegger, the German thinker in his ‘Being and Time’ of 1927, had said:
“We do not exist within time, but in a very real way we are time!”
Time is inseparable from human experience, since we can allow the past to exist in the present through memory;
And even allow a potential future occurrence to exist in the present due to our human ability to care, and be concerned about things.
Therefore we are not stuck in simple sequential or linear time, but can step out of it almost at will!

CONCLUDING  PART  TWO OF ENIGMA OF TIME IN VERSE
In this part I have tried to convey what the Ancient Greek Philosophers had felt about Time in a simplified way.
Also some thoughts of Medieval and Early Modern philosophers and what they had to say.
Where Sir Isaac Newton stands like a colossus with his Concept of Time, Laws of Motion, and Gravity.
Not forgetting Henri Bergson, one of my favourite philosopher, of the mid-19th and the mid-20th Century.
All through my narration I had tried to hold the interest of my readers, and also educated myself as a true knowledge seeker.
In my concluding Part Three I will cover few Modern Philosophers along with the relativistic concept of time.
Certainly not forgetting the space-time theory of our famous Albert Einstein!
Thanks for reading patiently, from Raj Nandy of New Delhi.
  *ALL COPY RIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR ONLY

bandanna knotted in your hair,
you are
eloquently attired, and almost
always a little late; it ok.
you aren't
beholden
to standard notions of
punctuality or
Americanized dreams of
mechanistic triumph over the
virus of Nature.
you are more and less and equal to
the sum of your
constituent parts and
you are exquisite.

Sometimes, I see the God descend to ground.
Lowered on pulleys, creaking as he comes,
He booms his monologue to waiting crowds,
While they - all certain that this God will make
Things right, will get the parents and the kids to talk,
Will mend the broken marriage vows, will fill
The bank accounts, will take the heartbreak out
Of growing old – they hearken to this voice.
But after, when the dummy-God ascends,
Departs in peace to mechanistic skies,
The crowd must stay to watch the empty stage
Repent its trick of mercy by design.

They shiver as it undergoes its shame -
See Faustus at the Hellmouth once again.

I so often get lost on the train
my mind wonders – to strange and thoughtful places,
I seep through the carriages and people like a gliding ghost
half existent in transient memory,

a translucent thin veil membrane separating me
from this reality,
and the shifting worlds of imagination.

My imagination overwhelms me often, it is powerful and I feel lost
in my internal worlds and can't connect to anything external from my own process,

my own neurosis – I want to get beyond my neurosis,
my fears, my stupid little set backs.

Fear itself becomes a huge beast in my mind,
a multi-limbed Kali staring at me with half crazed eyes,
meeting me with the intention of true chaos – a challenge.

I wish to climb the ladder that suddenly appears and become myself;
Infinite in direction and potential

I want to love myself and be loved.
I want to love,
I want to love.

I stare out of the window again, streets, signs and derelict buildings
zoom and melt into one huge encompassing space,
one straight up urban landscape.

And as I am enveloped in this concrete world
via the mechanistic medium of train

I wonder:
/
Will I ever feel better?
will I ever feel peace?
Will I ever know love?
will I ever understand?
and do I really want to?

Truth is such a hard pill to swallow in the end.
I imagine anyway, I imagine.

Do you ?

I.
In physics,     action at a distance
is the concept that an object can be moved,
changed,     or otherwise affected
without being physically touched
as in mechanical contact by another object.
That is, it is the nonlocal interaction
of objects separated in space;
II.
The term was used in the context
of early theories of gravity and
electromagnetism to describe how
an object responds to the influence
of distant objects. For example,
the early Coulomb's law and the law
of universal gravitation;
III.
More generally "action at a distance" describes
the failure of early atomistic and mechanistic theories
to reduce all physical interaction to collisions
[thus truly ending the Stone Age]; The exploration
and resolution of this problematic phenomenon
leading to significant developments in modern physics;
from the concept of a field, to descriptions
of quantum entanglement & the mediator particles
of the Standard Model

The bolt of lightening  touches the ground,
gently
quickly
sewing the world together again
with its static thread and mechanistic jut from the skies.

i think mother nature is trying to hold her pieces together,
even when everyone knows she's falling apart.

I spoke with two people at the party Saturday.
A young police officer, short-haired, fit,
chiseled face who had two young children.
He felt constrained by the law, without discretion
to question mopes (perps) aggressively
or to let go those who were obviously no threat.
Even at a family function he seemed straight-backed, correct,
devoted to his role as our protector (and his children’s)
yet I thought perhaps too deeply in debt, indentured
to the rules and laws of legislators and destined
to be disappointed (or worse). I thought his courage
and devotion (to whom or what?) would surely
be poorly repaid and that this lesson
was necessary to ready him with wisdom
for death or further living. I worried like a brother
about the unpredictable dangers, even terrors,
he must daily face, and the pleasure he takes in facing them.
How will he return to the fragility of family,
of the soul alone, after wielding the force
of the state, the blind, combined will of us all?

Next a business exec, retired from a well known
global investment firm. At first we talked about
the lush beauty of the northeast compared to the arid west
(although he loves every inch of the west, too).
Then somehow we got beyond light conversation
when he complained about the perceived decline in values
for instance how the Ten Commandments can’t be publicly
displayed. He said we can all agree on God
but I said I have a mechanistic view of the universe
(although the unknowable always sits just out of reach
of the known). I told him my dad’s theory of reincarnation,
a good man and a corporate seeker of God also, whose shoes
I could never fill unless I swore belief in a supreme being.
No hard feelings. Then he told me the story
of his dying friend, an atheist, not even a deist
like the founding fathers, who opened his eyes for the last time
to correct the exec’s misperception that now he’d meet his maker.
Having exceeded the bounds of acceptable conversation
I went looking for my children. Nothing more to question.

Come On All You Ghosts


<>

I heard a little cough
in the room, and turned
but no one was there

except the flowers
Sarah bought me
and my death’s head

glow in the dark key chain
that lights up and moans
when I press the button

on top of its skull
and the ghost
I shyly name Aglow.

Are you there Aglow
I said in my mind,
reader, exactly the way

you just heard it
in yours about four
poem time units ago

unless you have already
put down the paper directly
after the mention

of poetry or ghosts.
Readers I am sorry
for some of you

this is not a novel.
Good-bye. Now it is just
us and the death’s head

and the flowers and the ghost
in San Francisco thinking
together by means

of the ancient transmission device.
I am sorry
but together we are

right now thinking
along by means
of an ancient mechanistic

system no one invented
involving super-microscopic
particles that somehow

(weird!) enter through
your eyes or ears
depending on where

you are right now
reading or listening.
To me it seems

like being together
one body made of light
clanging down through

a metal structure
for pleasure and edification.
Reader when I think of you

you are in a giant purple chair
in a Starbucks gradually leaking power
while Neil Young

eats a campfire then drinks
a glass of tears
on satellite radio.

Hello. I am 40.
I have lived in Maryland,
Amherst, San Francisco,

New York, Ljubljana,
Stonington (house
of the great ornate wooden frame

holding the mirror the dead
saw us in whenever
we walked past),

New Hampshire at the base
of the White Mountains
on clear blue days

full of dark blue jays
beyond emotion jaggedly piercing,
Minneapolis of which

I have spoken
earlier and quite enough,
Paris, and now

San Francisco again.
Reader, you are right now
in what for me is the future

experiencing something
you cannot
without this poem.

I myself am suspicious
and cruel. Sometimes
when I close my eyes

I hear a billion workers
in my skull
hammering nails from which

all the things I see
get hung. But poems
are not museums,

they are machines
made of words,
you pour as best

you can your attention
in and in you the poetic
state of mind is produced

said one of the many
French poets with whom
I feel I must agree.

Another I know
writes his poems on silver
paint in a mirror.

I feel like a president
raising his fist in the sun.

remember when you sat in asylum
and heard sounds from the other side
when i soothed you with that children's song
high above the lamentation
up on the desert plain

remember when you sat among the violent
and heard through the haze
the passionate rhythm
the voice always with you

remember when your eyes were opened
to sun-colored fields
and to fields of radiant souls
each one cut and multi-faceted
each one perfect in its own poverty

remember when you looked down from that hill
on the sparkling city-lights below
and the city was transformed
and lived and breathed
and ran through you like divine blood
like Zion itself, consumed in your holy communion

I run through your memories
christening them holy
I breathe into your crowded slum
until every rock, and the dung strewn on the dirt path
are all lovely
worthy of worship all along

remember the fury with which I destroyed you
when you paced, heart racing
in your jail cell
when I set my wolves on you

remember the endless, stretching months
that all seemed like years and years
when I unleashed my plague of locusts
into your scrambled brains
when you found no rest in sleep
and your flesh burned through the day
when I breathed fire and consumed your little house
and you stood there naked and aghast
in a mechanistic universe that hated you through and through
a starving animal, you cowered in fear
thirsty longing to find shelter from the sun

i run through my memories
latent and potent in every cell, every member
i remember

MIND

No science can unravel
the mystery of mind
brain-bred alone?
matter first
next--the insubstantial-
the fluidity of thinking that follows?
the chicken first
then the egg kind of reasoning?

but mind is infinite
and has no boundaries-
it can't be measured
or calibrated
MRI is mechanistic
and neurology is but a crude tool
they probe the physicality
but never touch the inner core
which cannot be detected or mapped
and all psychiatry is but guess-work
will o'-the-wisp and
the fancy of the shrink
who is hopelessly inadequate
and an object of pity
(doctor, heal thyself first!)

where  is the birth-place
of thought?

science is inferior to nature
what is unknowable far exceeds
the bounds of the known
mind--the eternal enigma

how is genius born?
how is the unspeakable articulated
through poetry, music and art?
how does the mind create such beauty
as to be beyond the bounds of human understanding
and experience? Isn't it then a mystery within mysteries
and makes reason mute and causes science to weep?

how does beauty so sublime arise
from the non-physical
which knows not its own abode?

the brain
is not the mind
and the mind is not the brain

which is superior then?
that which is beyond
the narrow straits of science
counts for infinitely more

When every moment is
Struggling with every
Fiber to inspire, expire
Breath, feeling is a
Dream deferred,
Unrealizable, they say.

Yet, to feel builds emotions,
Power innate, the thread
Interweaving the fabric of life.
Though, pro-science projects
Thought is power, sensing,
Just informing, to be processed
By our computer, brain, for
Exigent programming.

Yet, conscience intuits that
Thoughts are emoting, voiced.
...That fear is naught, but,
Shadows of past's un-integrated
Experiences, cast over our
Presence and future. While both,
Integral to realizing insight,
Growth, balance and movement,
Are necessary to humanity.

"La Machine", uses them to rote
Us into un-being an efficacious part
And parcel of it, an automaton.
More, better mechanistic survival,
The reason for human being,
In societies' eye. Who dares to
Disagree, all in for a penny, in
For a pound, mostly, decay bound.
Sides, delusions, clouding their eyes.

Though, feelings hibernating
Emerge with strength, through
Discipline, which Castaneda relates
As, "the art of feeling awe", they
Can be concentrated. Focusing,
Realizing reality on wing,
Imbued co-creation in flight.

As well, what of our soma's foci of
Attention, solutioning all life,
Through myriad interrelations?
What of the breadth of our
Perceptions, the depth of every-
Ones earthen interconnections?
...Of the intimacy, hearts fathoms,
Touch's immediacy, aural artistry?

Mammon says, "what of it", being
Doesn't make money, take control,
Projections do. "We" say, they're
Le raison d'etre, potentia evolving,
Humane being, alival. I would be
Just for a day, as a mayfly, if I were
More me, rather, than as long as
An eagle flies, selling out, killing.

I am just words
how many did I speak yesterday?
today is making demands on me
what should I say

but about the same words
with some variations-- subtract there, add here?
my words appear quicker than I can think
Oh dear, oh dear!

I am not a robot or automaton
I am human--I should not be mechanistic
but words rule my life and are tyrannous
they know too many a cunning trick

I must study my words-bank
delete what has made me a fool
a new vocabulary I should acquire
like a little child starting school.

and generation of heat in particular
cuz yours truly
spoiled with trappings
of Western Civilization.

How ideal I imagine
to dwell in a self sufficient domicile,
where thrum of the central heater...
automatically activated
upon advent of twilight,
or self adjusted/regulated
based on outside temperature
since writer of these words
thankfully linkedin to PECO grid,
(counts CAP and LIHEAP programs

for low income earners a dogsend),
subsequently scribe of Schwenksville
not resident within "smart home",
nevertheless manually pressing button
invites emulation of
Donald Trump zippered smile,
when mechanisms set in motion
to spark convection currents
warming cockles and muscles
versus skin feeling cold and clammy.

One anonymous **** sapien appreciates
basking, and luxuriating,
within climate controlled environment,
whether bone chilling
deep freeze when/where old man winter
furiously blows frigid air
into lovely bones of mine
sets indentured jaws chattering,
as on this dreary
and rainy April 30th, 2023,
or contrarily when sweltering
hazy, humid and hot
dawg days of summer
necessitates setting air conditioner
at refreshing sixty six degrees fahrenheit.

I could never survive
alone in the wilderness,
which dependence on creature comforts
inured me since birth,
but all the more power to people
(such as **** Proenneke
pronounced pren-icky)
who lived off the grid,
and minimize their carbon footprint.

Truth be told, a non impactful lifestyle
tantalizes, teases, titillates...
yours truly, a garden variety generic human
dependent I vow woolly admit
on consonant contrivances
and conveniences conditioned
courtesy capitalistic consumeristic credo
decrying his dependence
upon flow of electrons,
whereby flip of switch
(rather than fight)
when systems of a down fully functional

instantaneously allows, enables,
and provides electricity
with absolute zero ability
to stave off blackout
attributed to sudden disruption
regarding power outage
linkedin with severe
kickstarted meteorological phenomena
or terroristic machinations
(possibly even homegrown unrest)
worst case scenario signaling the end
of the webbed wide world

reducing to rubble
(think being bombed
back into stone age)
annihilating comp fur table trappings
of twenty first century civilization
forcing survivors to learn basic skills
cooperation, integration, proletarian
and utilitarian virtues
altruistic, democratic, humanistic,
mechanistic, and socratic zest
begotten, distilled, and forged
nsync with opposable thumb.

Angst crimps existence
generating dystopian thoughts
despite countless factorial permutations,
differentiations and combinations,
this cyber surfer avails two alms
boot Grinchian genes snatched such balms
when tethered in utero umbilical connection,
etched bromide, which hankering calms
embryonic sensation this corporeal being lacks
constantly subjected to exams
from the school of hard knocks,
which I bewail sets back and gloms

mine aim to revel in blissful contentment
but circumstances decreed otherwise
cursing this chap tubby haunted
exhibited by sweaty soles of feet and palms
by veritable elfin grotto dwelling phantoms
hovering over sweet clover dials a mirage
where dreams comprise psychedelic qualms
yes...Iris sieve blurbs from gals and guys
that spans the world wide web, and exude
premature ejaculatory ecstasy, puzzled if fie
totally tubular trod a tedious trek
along the boulevard of broken dreams.

What happenstance oft finds thyself to flail
amidst difficulty to maximize
optimal opportunities
searching for Holy Grail
or whatever constitutes such lofty
personal objective, perchance being hale
and hearty of body, mind and spirit
spurs the furies of fate tut test this primate
while he aims to gallop with mighty industrial
vim and vigor leaving a virtual cloud

of dust, though mindfulness helps
to pass go, and chance avoid jail
time, then maybe monopolized
feedback offered and accepted
to this married caucasian
nasty and shortish brute
with one percent Neanderthal
toothless though I possess gumption
pseudo quasi-vegetarian
enjoying poetry stone soup,

yet also subsisting
on supplementary vitamin
and mineral packed glue tin free
NON GMO fruity tall tales for a male
thirty six years shy sans bing a centenarian,
which span of life best cut short
acquiring tetanus courtesy
rusty nine inch nail
hammered into faux coffin,
cuz this impossible mission

(aery faced nincompoop) doth turn pale
at the prospect to fill up a space of land
best utilized by twittering
and tweeting birds - such as quail
mongoose, or ibis (though aye ne'er saw
one), where cremated ashes sail
across some verdant plain under
cerulean skies putting to rest every travail,
which thoughts of dem eyes spells
the main impetus explaining

this rambling spiel
warp and woof ova gauzy veil
imperceptibly looms closer upon
turrets of my digital sea faring gunwale
unwittingly capsized courtesy
Moby **** sized whale,
and thus desperation
finds me pleading for salvation
while swinging from vestigial yellowtail.

Heard Doc Watson once.
Got a used banjo but the fingers just couldn't cut it
Got the music in me but ****** if I can get it out
Don't like crowds or audiences anyway.

Sometime even fear my close friends.
Don't stand up to their Atheism when it comes.
Science don't get faith and faith seeking proof dissipates.

But these atheist friends don't seem to contemplate the horror within
the mechanistic, physical progression from Big Bang to the end.

One can admire the astute, patient discoveries
about the mechanical; this still discoverable physical world.
Pizo electric charges allow interaction with
this transparent screen smart phone
laid on fingertips miracle

Me?
I get more excited by
The actions of mind upon matter.
I can get lost in the shape of a hammer
As I retrace from its form to conception.

An ancestor of mine once imagined
A tool of simplicity and force.
Created an extension that reached from the mind to the hand to the nail.
And when I heft my hammer in my hand and lift it to strike
The complete marriage of mind, human, tool, and history
Comes to bear on the head
Of that nail
(Whose story entwines with that ancient hammer).

Razors

Two razors — Greed and Stupidity —
They’re slitting all of our throats.
Corruption joins with complicity —
No need for loftier notes.

The rest is tossed in a corner,
Discarded, despised, and ignored.
Be we rams or obedient mourners —
We’re livestock, stunned and floored.

These razors shear every creature,
Some die without even a sound.
A lie, bold-faced and featureless,
Holds up the slaughterhouse ground.

We're comfy inside our cages,
Though drowning in filth and waste.
Not stallions — we’re stunted, aging —
All shrunken and spirit-erased.

Like pigs in suburban stables,
Like hamsters who serve and spin,
No batons or laws or cables —
Just scan the retinas in.

We moo and bleat with compliance,
Each gorging on popcorn and fries.
Our bodies — their prized alliance —
No souls, no truth in our eyes.

But these bodies — they’re sweet and tender
To the overlords of the pens.
They've knelt to the smooth pretender
Whose motto: “Consume all men.”

The slaughterhouses lie ready.
The clock has begun its beat.
It’s no longer war, but steady
Culling by needle and cheat.

A shot, and you're gently silenced,
To "save" from a phantom plague.
The rams and horses stay quiet —
Too scared of this scripted vague.



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



Slaughter's smooth now — no blade, no war.
Just needles. Scanning. And a store.



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



They bleat and munch while marching in —
The scanner smiles. Let cull begin.



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



No rebels left — just docile meat,
Who trade their minds for snacks and heat.



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



Diagnosis

Seventy percent are morons,
Twenty — twisted minds on edge.
Seven — frail, already worn ones,
Half a percent — the demons' sledge.

Less than three percent can function,
One in three is cracked or caught.
One in three — in self-destruction,
Fooled by lies that sold them rot.

Less than one percent are steady,
Sane and strong — a dying kind.
Even they aren't battle-ready —
Split apart and undermined.

It’s downhill from here — just faster.
This last percent will drown in muck,
In a world that loves disaster
And one goal: to self-destruct.

The focus now — obliteration
Of the human soul and brain.
The trend — full dehumanization,
Where half-devils rule the plain.

What’s left of men must rise, exploding,
Blow this twisted hell apart!
Though tired and bruised, start loading —
Call the fire to your heart.

Let the solar flame extinguish
This grotesque and reeking pit.
The mind is gone. The soul relinquished.
Flush this toilet — end this ****!



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



One percent still dares to stand —
Light the fire, scorch the land.



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



Soul is chained and mind is dead —
Time to burn the filth instead.



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



They turned us into walking clay —
So blast the hell and clear the way!



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

Bedlam of Imbeciles

If back then madness ruled the earth —
Half the world beneath fascist paws,
This new bedlam’s lost all worth —
An idiot march to Tartarus’ jaws.

In imbecile bedlam, none can live.
No tragic choices left to make.
No Hamlet’s question to forgive —
To be or not, no soul to stake.

Only Gorky’s bitter fight remains —
To **** the slave inside the mind.
Our fate: to purge these dark, vile stains —
The evil humankind must grind.

The filth of neo-fascist spawn,
We must destroy before the dawn!



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



Idiots’ bedlam, world on fire —
Stamp them out, or drown in mire!




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



Point of No Return

Decay has climbed beyond control,
Defeat and slavery lie ahead.
The schemes that swallow every soul
Leave reason, honor, conscience dead.

Mind, spirit, honor, all erased —
A genocide’s last chapter nears.
The point of no return is faced —
The dusk approaches, as it clears.

Halfwits roam where humans died,
Submissive drones, mere piglets’ breed.
Soon even those few left aside
Will face the purge to cut the seed.

The wise can only laugh in spite,
This hell won’t last for long, they say.
For God may still reclaim the night,
The devils’ feast will end one day.



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



Decay reigns, the fools hold sway —
But God will end this cursed play.



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



Unyielding Revolt

Only revolt, fierce and wild,
Can redeem us from this plight.
Sweep the lies, the demons piled,
Drive the darkness from our sight.

Inhuman hordes grow strong,
Waging war on humankind.
They’ve transformed the meek and wrong
Into cattle, dumb and blind.

We must unite — no more delay,
No more coward’s silent crows.
Or hell will grow, and on that day
The wise will rot in camps and rows.

Mad slaves will be turned to beasts,
No new mind will dare to rise.
Death camps sealed for all, at least —
Their hell etched beneath the skies.

The final battle now is near,
And victory shall be ours!
We’ll crush the fiends, dispel the fear —
And sweep away their dark powers.



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



Rise or rot — the end’s begun!
Crush the fiends, the fight is won!



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



Wake the mind! Break every chain!
Fight the dark — reclaim your reign!



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



Weariness

Weariness retreats at last,
A curse from ages long ago,
For all the minds that still hold fast,
Before the world’s final blow.

Be strong amid the fading light,
‘Gainst neo-fascist blackened flags.
No fear if reason burns so bright —
Their twisted throne will lose its tags.

The battle’s not yet lost, my friend,
If steadfast will still holds its ground.
The fiends’ dark lies will meet their end,
In clouds of falsehoods, tightly bound.

Together they will fade and fall,
When fire from above descends —
The world cast down in judgment’s thrall,
For genocide’s cruel ends.



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



Weariness fades — the fire’s near!
Fight the lies, burn out the fear!



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



People on a Platter

Small folk of this fake land,
You’re food upon a plate,
Sons of lies, deceit's own brand,
Daughters forged by fate.

Everywhere—genocide,
Your spirit crushed and torn,
By filthy fascists’ tide,
Your light nearly shorn.

Dulling strikes you like a whip,
Decay is everywhere,
Fear and media’s cruel grip,
Breeds madness and despair.

You bow to **** and traitors,
Betrayed yourselves outright.
Your "joy" is just a faker’s,
Loving trifles slight.

The core you’ve long forgotten —
Only Spirit counts in fight.
And so you’ve drifted rotten,
In dung-flies’ hellish night.

Disinfection’s coming —
To save the Earth’s own breath:
You’re infection, humming —
They’ll slay all of your death.

Ruled by subhuman fiends,
To them, you’re just a louse,
Not servants but mere means —
Don’t question, keep your house!

The fly puffs up its cheeks,
A slave, with false defense,
Blaming reason, weak and meek,
While truth decays from sense.

Small folk of this fake land,
You’re eaten by the vile —
Rest’s but dreams unmanned,
A nightmare’s cruel mile.

After the cataclysm,
A new world will arise —
No fascist enemas,
No shooting-range disguise.

Only Spirit’s people
Will cross to that bright shore.
Dung-flies face the devil,
And demons yet once more.

New devils, new dark media,
Still lead the beasts astray.
Trust the vermin’s criteria —
And let the Serpent sway.

Vile worms spawn super-viles
In that new pit of hell.
No need for many trials —
Just live the fevered spell.

The madness shared by all,
The mark of slaves undone —
They call this life’s long crawl,
But it’s no race to run.

Slow death for the wise,
While cattle numb and eat,
Slave’s fate under false skies —
Betrayal’s bitter meat.

Names don’t matter anymore,
Just sell your soul to feed.
Though poison lines your store,
Strong lie — that’s all you need.

Small folk of every fake land,
Only fools stand tall,
Facing down the traitor’s band,
While reason’s shadows fall.

Driven to the frontlines,
By subhumans’ command,
Only lies grow like vines,
“Attack!” they shout on hand.

This is all propaganda,
If you strip away the haze.
But evil thrives in murk,
A nightmare’s cruel maze.



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



The Final Surge

The final surge awaits —
You’ll smash to shards, beware.
If you’re not just dead weight —
Escape this lie and snare.

This place is fascist’s hell,
A traitors’ endless sea.
“Normal” now is dumb and fell,
Praising filth, debris.

Foundations crushed to dust —
That’s Bedlam’s bitter core.
You rot here like a rust,
A donkey — nothing more.

All paths grown thick with weeds,
Where fear and lies run free.
It’s hard to walk these creeds,
But hurry — flee with speed.

Decay’s so thick, it stings—
A stench that blinds the eyes.
In this false war of kings,
Forgotten guns arise.

Lies reap fools like crops,
As if they’re fighting wars.
No chains can bind, no locks
Stronger than their scores.

You tumble in that slime —
They call this “the true way.”
Two thirds are cattle’s grime —
Remember that, don’t stray.

If you intend to break
With some, beware the lies —
Their mouths will never quake,
Hungry, rat-tap cries.

Only Spirit guides,
Your gut must multiply.
Among the filth, truth hides,
Its scent is faint, but try —

***** forward in the dark,
Escape this madman's den.
What’s next beyond the mark —
Doesn’t matter then.

The stench will lessen there —
A bonus, not zero.
Soon cattle in despair
Will drop, their heads fall low.

Those beasts just eat and snitch,
A venom kills their kind,
A fake disease to twitch,
Delusions chained in mind.

Just warm-up’s CowID —
A fantasy of lies.
Before, there was the AIDS
That fooled the weak and wise.

They’ll believe all lies told,
And sell their backs to hell.
The beasts won’t save the fold,
Those fiends aren’t chosen well.

Only servants vile,
These fiends, no human breed.
Baphomet’s dark smile
Rules this world’s dark seed.

Is surge impossible?
Then tear yourself apart.
Better crushed in a coffin,
Than rot, betraying heart.

Surge! And Nature will
Fulfill this bitter call:
The time is near to **** —
Cataclysm will fall.

A hellish world will rise,
If Spirit’s caged and crushed,
A vow to serve despise —
The flies, still overbrushed.

And they will crush you now —
The count is years, not days.
If Spirit still burns, how?
You’ll leave this hellish maze.

You’re from the worlds of pain —
The worst of all you know.
Be brave, endure the strain,
If not a cracked shadow.

Only madmen will
Whine that hell’s their friend.
It’s hard to live and feel
If not a beast to bend.

So surge. Tear through and tear —
Your sinews snap, but Spirit flies.
Your mind, your soul are rare —
Amidst the fiends’ disguise.

Among Satan’s slaves —
This sentence seals your fate.
Forever bound, no waves,
Only dreams or hate.



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



Surge! Break through the lies,
Smash the dark, hear our cries!
No chains can hold the free —
Spirit burns eternally!



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



Surge and tear, no mercy shown,
Break the chains, face the throne!
Fools and fiends—your time is done,
Spirit fights—will not be shunned!

Crush the filth, burn the lies,
Smash the dark where hatred flies!
Better broken than a slave,
Rise, rebel—hell to brave!



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



Oh, break your bones and bleed for them,
Those masters of the dung and ****!
Serve the fools who’re kings of dirt —
Your life’s a joke, your pain’s dessert.

Tear yourself to bits — hooray!
They’ll clap and jeer along the way.
What’s left to lose? Just chains and shame —
Congrats, you’re all part of the game!



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



Rip your guts for filthy fiends,
Those kings of rot and rotten means!
Bend your necks to filth’s demands —
The world’s a circus, you’re the clowns’ stands!

Break your backs, bleed for the freaks,
The puppeteers of all your leaks.
What’s left but chains and endless pain?
Welcome to the bottom — here you’ll reign!



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



The Main Question

"Are they so very different?" —
A trap of questions, sharpest yet!
Ugly fools and Judas fiends,
Rude and vile, no shame to get.

Fools who call themselves elite,
Teachers, clerks, and pompous prigs —
World’s a carcass, full of rot,
Its disease: a soulless rig.

Soulless are like berries wild,
All the same upon this field.
Remember this before you judge,
No matter what the masks may shield.

Styles and fashions mean but dust,
Wicked words with twisted gloss —
All these monsters soulless, cold,
No true heart beneath the dross.

They serve the evil’s hand unseen,
The astral world hungers black,
Souls once lost in ugly skins —
Deceit in every crack.

"Are they so very different?" —
Ideologies, a blur!
All infected with the same,
A steaming, foul demur.

They sell you lies and chains of shame,
But dress it up in false disguise.
Insanity’s the main claim,
Madness wrapped in clever lies.

"Are they so very different?" —
Ask about their ‘faith’ and creed.
Those tricks made for spirit’s plague,
A verbal rot, a need.

Priests and elders spread the stink,
You’ll lose feeling, lose your touch.
Only those who still can sense
Know they’re needless — just a crutch.

For the soulless, they exist —
Murk and lies for the blind crowd.
"Are they so very different?" —
False sciences, false gods loud.

Not just nonsense — endless noise,
Distracts from what’s the main theme:
Soul above all else must reign,
Without Spirit, no true dream.

Knowledge’s impossible
When Spirit’s woven in all.
Consciousness led astray in lies
Where matter’s fools hold the thrall.

What’s valued there is corpses’ weight,
The living lost in endless fight.
Hell’s beasts forever war with Spirit’s light.
Believe their lies — you drown in blight.

In this shameful, fake charade,
Only one true question stands:
"Are they so very different?" —
Keep asking, hold your hands.

Those ugly fiends won’t fool you now —
Science, false faith, rotten courts,
Chains of evil hang above —
If you listen, you’re the lost.

"Are they so very different?" —
Your path, your heavy cross to bear.
Monsters made it so — their curse,
The devil’s grip, the snare.

But those of Light will glide with ease,
Through nonsense foul and fake disguise.
They love one Truth, pure and clear —
You’ll find it deep inside.

Spirit and Light alone are true.
The unclean only lie —
Now open wide your eyes and see:
Their end is nigh.



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



The Burning Question

“So, are they really different?” —
That’s the sneaky trap they set!
Ugly fools and Judas snakes,
Rude and shameless, **** and threat.

“Smart ones,” teachers, snobs, and clerks —
All the world’s a rotting grave.
Its disease? The soulless curse,
Nothing more than mindless slaves.

Soulless—like a berry’s stain,
All the same across the field.
Mark it well before you judge:
Masks don’t hide what’s truly real.

Fashion, trends, slick words — a joke,
All these monsters soulless, vile.
They serve evil undercover,
Hiding hate behind a smile.

“Are they really that distinct?” —
All their ideologies—trash!
Infected vapors, steaming lies,
All designed to crash and clash.

Selling chains disguised as gold,
Madness dressed in mental rags.
If you’re sane, you see the farce:
Crazed fools waving empty flags.

“Are they really that distinct?” —
Ask their “faiths” and holy shows.
Spirit’s plague, a verbal rot,
Priests who puke their sacred blows.

They’ll drain your feeling, crush your sense,
Only the sharp see through their game.
Those parasites? They’re useless props,
Feeding lies to feed the flame.

Soulless flock to hear their lies,
False sciences and gods betrayed.
Not mere nonsense, endless noise—
Distractions from the price you’ve paid.

Soul is all — the true main act,
Without the Spirit, none can know.
Consciousness is led astray,
By fools who worship what is low.

What’s valued there? The dead, the cold,
While hell’s fiends battle Spirit’s flame.
Buy their lies? You’ll drown and choke,
Sinking deep in shame and blame.

In this charade of shame and fake,
Only one question cuts through lies:
“Are they really that distinct?” —
Keep it sharp, expose their ties.

Ugly beasts won’t fool you now—
Fake “science,” faiths, and rotten courts.
Chains of evil choke the world —
If you listen, you’re their sport.

“Are they really that distinct?” —
Your path, your cross, your heavy fight.
Monsters made it hell on earth,
Devil’s grip and endless night.

But those of Light will slip right past
The filth, the noise, the false charade.
They love one Truth, pure and bright —
You’ll find it deep inside the shade.

Spirit and Light, the only real,
The unclean spin their filthy lies.
Open your eyes, tear off the veil —
Their end is coming; hear their cries.



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



The Burning Question

“Are they really
that different?” —
That’s the trap,
the ***** trick.

Fools and snakes,
the Judas pack,
Rude and ugly —
all the same black.

“Smart ones”? Ha!
Teachers, snobs,
The world rots deep —
no souls, just mobs.

Soulless fruit
on rotten fields,
Look close,
the mask reveals.

Trends and words —
all empty shells,
Monsters hide
in soulless hells.

“Different?” Lies!
Ideologies—
Just smoke,
infected disease.

Chains they sell,
disguised as gold,
Madness wears
a mask so cold.

Sane? You see
the madness clear,
Fools waving
flags of fear.

“Faiths?” Rot!
Spirit’s plague,
Priests spew bile,
their words just vague.

Feelers crushed,
sense undone,
Only sharp
see through their run.

Parasites
feed lies and flame,
Soulless flock
to worship shame.

False science,
fake gods praised,
Noise and trash,
all wisdom razed.

Soul’s the key—
Spirit’s core,
Without them,
knowledge’s poor.

Conscious led
to lies and dirt,
Fools bow down,
and truths get hurt.

Value there?
Cold and dead,
Hell’s fiends fight
Spirit’s thread.

Buy their lies,
drown in shame,
Sink in mud—
lose the game.

Shameful world,
fake and foul,
One sharp question
breaks the howl:

“Are they really
that different?” —
Ask it loud,
cut the serpent.

Ugly beasts
can’t fool you now,
Fake faiths,
corrupt know-how.

Evil chains
bind the globe,
Hear their lies?
You’re their dope.

“Are they really
that different?” —
Your path, your cross,
your bitter fight.

Monsters made
this hell on earth,
Devil’s hold,
and endless dearth.

But Light slips
through all the muck,
Loving Truth —
pure, tough, unstuck.

Spirit, Light,
only real,
The unclean
spin their spiel.

Open eyes,
tear the veil,
Their end’s near —
hear their wail.



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


The Burning Question

“Are they really
that **** different?” —
The sneaky trap,
the ugly ****.

Idiots, Judas rats,
And ******* too —
All rotten trash,
the same sick zoo.

“Smart ones”? **** that!
Teachers, *******, snobs.
This world’s a festering pile
Of soulless blobs.

Soulless fruit
In a ****-filled field —
Remember this,
the truth’s revealed.

Fashion, words —
Just empty shells.
Soulless freaks
Rot in their hells.

“Different?” *******!
Ideologies’ smog —
A steaming heap
Of parasite dog.

They sell you chains
Wrapped in gold.
Madness parades,
the same old cold.

You think you’re sane?
Look closer, fool —
Fools wave flags
In the devil’s pool.

“Faiths?” A puke!
Spirit’s disease.
Priests spew ****,
Keep you on knees.

Feelings crushed,
Sense torn apart.
Only the sharp
Can see their art.

Parasites
Feed on lies,
Soulless sheep
Drink their lies.

Fake science,
Fake gods praised,
Noise and trash
Of wisdom razed.

Soul’s the key —
Spirit’s core.
Without it,
You’re lost for sure.

Conscious trapped
In a filthy pit,
Fools bow down —
Truth doesn’t fit.

Value here?
Dead and cold,
Hell’s *******
Fighting bold.

Buy their lies,
Drown in ****,
Sink in muck —
You’re their hit.

Shameful world,
Foul and vile,
One sharp question
Cuts their smile:

“Are they really
that ******* different?” —
Ask it loud,
Break their ****.

Ugly beasts
Can’t fool you now,
Fake faiths,
Corrupt know-how.

Evil chains
Wrap the world,
Hear their lies?
You’re their *****.

“Are they really
that **** different?” —
Your path, your cross,
Your ******* fight.

Monsters built
This hell on earth,
Devil’s grip,
A pit of dearth.

But Light slips
Through all the muck,
Loving Truth —
Pure, sharp, unstuck.

Spirit, Light,
The only real,
The unclean
Spin their spiel.

Open eyes,
Tear their veil,
Their end’s close —
Hear their wail.



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



The Burning Question

“Are they really
that ******* different?” —
The slyest trap,
the ugliest ****.

******* morons,
Judas rats and ******,
Rotten **** crawling
like filthy ticks.

“Intellectuals”?
Ha! Dumb fools all,
Teachers, *******,
suits in a fall.

This world’s a cesspit
of soulless meat,
Dead corpses rotting
in endless deceit.

Soulless berries
in a poisoned field,
Mark it deep —
all their masks peeled.

Fashion, *******,
pretty words’ lies,
Soulless freaks rot
in their own disguise.

“Different?” LOL —
ideology stew,
A steaming puke,
parasites’ brew.

They sell you chains
coated with gold,
A madman’s circus —
same lies retold.

Think you’re sane?
You’re their **** fool —
Waving their flags
in Hell’s own pool.

“Religions”? *****!
Spirit’s disease,
Priests spew poison,
kneel down, please!

Your senses crushed,
your mind torn apart,
Only the sharp
can tear their art.

Parasites feast
on lies and fear,
Soulless sheep
chant what they hear.

Fake science lies,
fake gods adored,
Trash wisdom spewed,
truths ignored.

Soul’s the spark,
Spirit’s fire,
Without it,
you’re dead — a liar.

Consciousness trapped
in a filthy pit,
Fools bow down —
Truth won’t fit.

Value? Dead flesh,
cold as the grave,
Hell’s spawn fight
for spirit to enslave.

Buy their lies —
drown in their ****,
Sink and rot —
you’re their perfect hit.

Shameful world,
filthy and vile,
One sharp question
smashes their smile:

“Are they really
that ******* different?” —
Ask it loud,
smash their ****.

Ugly beasts
can’t fool you now,
Fake faiths,
corrupt know-how.

Chains of evil
wrap the world tight,
Believe their lies?
You’re the parasite.

“Are they really
that **** different?” —
Your path, your cross,
your final fight.

Monsters forged
this hell on earth,
Devil’s grip,
a pit of dearth.

But Light slips
through the muck and slime,
Loving Truth —
pure, sharp, divine.

Spirit, Light,
the only real,
The unclean
spin their spiel.

Open your eyes,
tear down their veil,
Their end’s near —
hear their wail.



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



The Burning Question

“Are they really
that ******* different?” —
The question sharp,
the sickest ****.

******* morons,
Judas ****** and clowns,
Rotten **** festering
in dead man’s gowns.

“Intellectuals”?
No, ******* drones,
Teachers, pigs,
and ******* clones.

This world’s a cesspit,
soulless and dead,
Rotted corpses
lying in their bed.

Soulless fruit
in poison soaked ground,
Mark it clear —
all masks come down.

Fashion, *******,
empty babble,
Soulless freaks
babble and rabble.

“Different?” LOL —
ideology’s ****,
Steaming puke,
parasite’s spit.

They sell you chains
painted gold,
Mad circus lies,
the same old cold.

Think you’re sane?
You’re a **** fool —
Waving their flag
in Hell’s own pool.

“Religions”? *****!
Spirit’s disease,
Priests ***** poison,
down on your knees!

Your senses crushed,
mind ripped apart,
Only the sharp
can tear their art.

Parasites feast
on lies and fear,
Soulless sheep
echo what they hear.

Fake science lies,
fake gods adored,
Trash wisdom spewed,
truths ignored.

Soul’s the spark,
Spirit’s flame,
Without it,
you’re dead, just shame.

Consciousness trapped
in a filthy pit,
Fools bow down —
Truth won’t fit.

Value? Dead flesh,
cold in the grave,
Hell’s spawn fight
to enslave the brave.

Buy their lies —
drown in their ****,
Sink and rot —
you’re their perfect hit.

Shameful world,
filthy and vile,
One sharp question
smashes their smile:

“Are they really
that ******* different?” —
Ask it loud,
smash their ****.

Ugly beasts
can’t fool you now,
Fake faiths,
corrupt know-how.

Chains of evil
wrap the world tight,
Believe their lies?
You’re the parasite.

“Are they really
that **** different?” —
Your path, your cross,
your final fight.

Monsters forged
this hell on earth,
Devil’s grip,
a pit of dearth.

But Light slips
through muck and slime,
Loving Truth —
pure, sharp, divine.

Spirit, Light,
the only real,
The unclean
spin their spiel.

Open your eyes,
tear down their veil,
Their end’s near —
hear their wail.



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


The Burning Question

Are they really
that **** different?
Sharp as knives —
no ******* ****.

Dumbfucks, Judas,
filthy clowns,
Rotten corpses,
deadmen’s gowns.

“Intellect”?
Just empty shells,
Teachers, pigs,
in living hells.

Soulless fruit,
rotted flesh,
Masks will drop,
no time to rest.

Fashion fools,
babbling lies,
Soulless freaks,
dead inside.

“Different?” Hell no —
All **** stew,
Mindfuck stew,
in poison brew.

Chains they sell,
all painted bright,
Slave to lies,
no end in sight.

Faith is puke,
Spirit’s curse,
Priests *****,
worse and worse.

Feel the pain,
tear the veil,
Only sharp
will not fail.

Parasites feed,
on your fear,
Soulless sheep,
just puppets here.

Fake science,
fake gods lie,
Truth buried,
left to die.

Soul’s the spark,
Spirit’s fire,
Without it,
you’re just mire.

Mind trapped deep,
in filth and slime,
Bow down fools,
waste your time.

Dead flesh counts,
in Hell’s domain,
Monsters fight,
to keep you chained.

Buy their lies,
drown in ****,
You’re their prey,
perfect hit.

Filthy world,
full of shame,
One fierce question
burns their name:

Are they really
that **** different?
Ask it loud,
cut the ****.

Beasts can’t fool
your sharpened eyes,
Fake faiths die,
no more lies.

Chains of evil
bind the earth,
Believe their lies?
You’re worthless dirt.

Are they really
that **** different?
Your path’s fire,
your war to win it.

Hellspawn made
this rotten place,
Devil’s grip,
death’s cold embrace.

But Light cuts
through muck and ****,
Truth lives on —
pure and numb.

Spirit, Light,
only real,
Filthy liars
can’t conceal.

Wake the hell up,
break their spell,
Their time’s done —
raise some hell.



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



The Burning Question

Are they really
that **** different?
Or just a circus,
fools and gibberish?

Judas wannabes,
bums and ******,
Selling lies
like cheap bag tricks.

“Smart”? Ha!
More like dumb meat,
Teachers, jerks,
feeding defeat.

Soulless berries,
all the same rot,
Try to stand out —
you just forgot.

Fashion victims,
words that drip,
Soulless freaks
on a sinking ship.

“Different”? Nope,
All puke stew,
Slave stew,
double *****.

Chains wrapped tight,
painted “bright,”
Slaves don’t mind —
just sleep at night.

Fake faiths preach,
priests spew bile,
Feel your brain
start to defile.

Only fools
buy the show,
Sharp minds leave,
dumb ones go.

Parasites
lick your fear,
Soulless sheep
bring them cheer.

Fake science,
fake holy cries,
Truth? Buried
under lies.

Soul’s the spark,
Spirit’s light,
Without it,
you’re dead meat, right?

Mind’s a trap,
filth and slime,
Bow down, fools,
waste your time.

Counting corpses,
Hell’s scoreboard,
Monsters dance,
on your accord.

Believe their lies,
drown in ****,
Congrats, sheep —
you just got hit.

Filthy world,
full of shame,
One sharp question
burns their game:

Are they really
that **** different?
Ask it loud —
cut their ****.

Beasts can’t fool
your sharpened eyes,
Fake faiths die,
truth survives.

Chains of evil
choke the earth,
Buy their lies?
You’re dirt.

Are they really
that **** different?
Your path, your war,
go win it.

Hellspawn made
this rotten scene,
Devil’s grip —
a toxic dream.

But Light cuts
through all that muck,
Truth lives on —
hard and stuck.

Spirit, Light,
only real,
Filthy liars?
Go to hell!

Wake the **** up,
break their spell,
Their time’s up —
raise some hell.



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


The Burning Question

Are they really
that ******* different?
Just **** and clowns,
a circus of ****?

Judas rats,
filthy maggots,
Selling poison,
cheap, disgusting *******.

“Smart”? Ha!
Brain-dead fools,
Teachers, *******,
prisoners of rules.

Soulless carcasses,
rotten to core,
Trying to stand out —
just puke on the floor.

Fashion zombies,
words like slime,
Soulless freaks
******* their grime.

“Different”? *******,
Same stinking herd,
Slave filth,
brainwashed ****.

Chains wrapped tight,
painted fake light,
Slaves drool on,
deep in the night.

Fake faiths puke,
priests ***** bile,
Your mind’s *****,
brain turned to guile.

Only idiots
buy this crap,
Sharp minds ditch,
fools fall in trap.

Parasite leeches,
lick your fear,
Soulless sheep
feed their sneer.

Fake science,
holy frauds,
Truth is buried
beneath their odds.

Soul’s the flame,
Spirit’s the sword,
Without them —
you’re dead, ignored.

Mind’s a prison,
filth and sludge,
Bow to your masters,
drown in their drudge.

Counting corpses,
Hell’s own scores,
Monsters feast,
rotten ******.

Believe their lies,
swim in their ****,
Congrats, dumb sheep —
you just got hit.

Filthy world,
shame piled high,
One **** question
makes them cry:

Are they really
that ******* different?
Ask it loud —
**** their ****.

Beasts can’t fool
your sharpened eyes,
Fake gods die,
truth never dies.

Chains of evil
strangle the earth,
Buy their lies?
You’re nothing, worthless.

Are they really
that ******* different?
Your path, your war,
go ******’ win it.

Hellspawn crafted
this rotten scene,
Devil’s grip —
toxic machine.

But Light slices
through all their muck,
Truth remains —
hard as ****.

Spirit, Light,
only real,
Filthy liars?
Go to hell!

Wake the **** up,
break their spell,
Their time’s over —
raise some hell.



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


The Burning Question

Are they really
that **** different?
Just rats and fools,
a sewer’s imprint.

Judas ****,
******* clowns,
Swallowing lies,
dumb ***** and clowns.

Soulless drones,
stinking trash,
**** parade,
a brainless clash.

Fake faiths puke,
priests spew bile,
Your mind’s *****,
******* style.

Slave beasts chew
on rotten lies,
Truth’s dead here —
feed your disguise.

Ask the question,
shatter the mask,
“Different”? Ha!
Just toxic trash.

Light cuts through
their filthy game —
Truth’s the flame,
they’re just shame.



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



Goblins

Goblins bitter, crude, and dumb,
Brazen slaves, they always come.
Fear has crushed them, crushed it all—
Bowing deeper to the thrall.

Crave the poison, lies by tons,
Happy when the filth runs.
Serve the *******, **** the soul,
Think death’s joke? They eat the whole.

Feed on ****, on lust and lies,
Toys and trash their only prize.
Better pig than goblin’s breed,
Yet their minds are stained with greed.

Not food — it’s poison vile,
Not healing — death’s cold smile.
Goblin fiends, foul and dumb,
Serve the darkness, beat the drum.

Not by force, but lies they drive,
Zombies’ shadows kept alive.
Not fools right from the start —
Turned to beasts with broken heart.

Lies boil off the last pure spark,
Darkness swallows, cold and stark.
Goblins bitter, soon will rise,
Crushed the world beneath their lies.

But here’s the twist, the final act—
Cataclysm will burn their track.
All their dens will turn to ash,
End of evil’s stinking trash.

Spirit pure will cross the gate,
New world born — no room for hate.
Sun will burn them to the bone,
Goblins’ reign will be o’erthrown.

Fight or serve the devil’s spawn,
Seek the light before you’re gone.
Only battle saves the soul,
Lead the weak, reclaim the whole.

New world born from pain and hell,
Goblin’s nightmare, fading spell.
Humans few, the lies still high,
But Spirit’s power will not die.

Heal yourself, go deep within,
Find the answers, fight your sin.
Spirit’s grace will heal the scar —
No more goblin wars afar.



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



Goblins

Goblins — bitter, dumb, and brazen,
Slaves so vile, you’d think they’re crazin’.
Fear’s their master, pants on fire,
Bowing down to every liar.

Feed ‘em poison, lies in heaps,
And watch those ******* jump for keeps.
Soul? Nah, just dead meat served —
You think death’s joke? They’re well-preserved.

They crave crap, lust, and shiny toys,
Their life’s a pile of piglet joys.
Better swine than goblin breed?
Mind’s a swamp of greed and screed.

Not food — it’s poison straight from hell,
Not cure — just death’s farewell.
Goblin freaks — all dumb and nasty,
Slaving dark, their future’s pasty.

No brute force, just sneaky lies,
Zombies lurking in disguise.
Not born fools, they trained for this —
Beasts without a shred of bliss.

Lies cook off their last small spark,
Darkness swallows, cold and stark.
Goblins mad, soon on the hunt,
Trampling all with rotten grunt.

But oh, the joke — here’s the kicker:
Cataclysm’s their final ticker.
Every hole and ratty lair
Burns to ash, no foul affair.

Pure spirits walk through flames anew,
New world starts — no goblin stew.
Sun’s a flamethrower, their doom,
Fascist piglets meet their tomb.

Fight or be a devil’s pet?
Light’s the way — or face regret.
Only battle saves the soul,
Drag the weak from goblin hole.

New world’s birth — pain’s cruel jest,
Goblin filth laid down to rest.
Few remain, lies flooding high,
Spirit’s might will never die.

Heal your mind, look deep inside,
Answers wait where truth won’t hide.
Spirit’s balm will end the pain —
No more goblin-**** to stain.



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



Miner’s Work and Other Labor

I’ll die beneath a hellish town —
A blessed fate to go down
When world’s a pit of endless lies,
Tearing through deception’s guise.

Deception’s crust is hard as steel,
Poetry can barely peel
Its layers deep, where darkness sleeps —
The lies are thick, and running deep.

Be poet? Or a miner’s slave?
“Miner’s work” is just a grave!
Dumb fools burrow in their holes —
Digging trenches for lost souls.

Futile work, a brutal grind,
Scooping heaps of lies designed
To hide the roots of every sham —
Deep mirages that never ****.

Cut one root? They howl and scream,
Excuses piled — a wicked scheme.
If darkness tricks still fool your mind,
You’re the idiot, blind and blind.

The world is swallowed by fascist slime,
A broken world, bereft of time.
From miners straight to shrink’s domain?
Shrink’s often sick in that same vein.

This world’s a stage for cruel charades,
A theater of rotten shades.
Would Will Shakespeare play his part
If madness ruled his tortured heart?

Dig deep — the stench will choke and sting,
This world’s a cesspit, nothing king.
Is this a world? Or just the pit?
A mousetrap holding cheese to split.

Obsessed with animals’ behavior?
That poetry’s a quick death favor.
This world’s a lawless, ruthless game —
Total chaos fuels the flame.

Study crime and write it down?
Better capture the foulest frown.
Let’s focus on the stench and rot —
Their goal: to crush the human spot.

Paste respirator icons on your page —
The stench has taken full control of the stage,
Dictator foul, it burns it all to dust,
Turning life to nothing but rust.

Professions many named herein,
Enough to drown in sin’s thick din.
No longer saints in hellish blight —
They sink in guilt, lost from the light.

Humility’s a darker crime
Than ******, pride, or lust’s bad rhyme.
Is truth more dangerous to say?
Truth is wealth that won’t decay.

What prize has poet? Attacks!
Truth’s beacon fires through their cracks.
Light’s fury scorns the blinded herd,
Their bleating voices never heard.

Light’s fury shines beyond the glass —
The sun vaporizes lies and trash.
Few fools left, so strike them down —
Push harder till no lies drown.

Push through pain, outlast the strain,
Outpace death’s cold, icy chain.
When fools are burned by shining blaze,
Is this the end? Or just a phase?

No — just a tear in fabric torn,
A world that’s broken, weak, and worn.
If spirit strong, no harm will come,
You’ll cross to worlds beyond the ****.

Worlds with no traps for mice to fall,
Where spirit rules, and mind stands tall.
Tricks and snares expelled by sin,
Where truth and light alone begin.

I’ll die beneath that cursed place,
Escape the hell, the human race.
Where will I go? Maybe the street —
A rogue’s world better to meet

Than this corrupt and broken realm,
Where reason’s ship has lost its helm.
Where those who bow to darkness’ lies
Survive by serving false disguise.

Survival means a death for all,
A world of fools will surely fall.
The world of slaves awaits the end —
No hope remains — just time to spend.



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



Miner’s Work and Other Labor

I’ll die beneath some ******* town —
A ******* blessing, going down
When Hell on Earth’s about to crack,
Digging lies’ hard ******* back.

Deception’s crust is thick as steel,
Poetry? Worthless — can’t even peel
The rotten lies that choke the mind,
Deep, dark, and ****** beyond all kind.

Be poet or some mining slave?
“Miner’s work” — just a shallow grave!
******* hiding in their holes,
Scratching dirt on broken souls.

Futile grind, a nightmare’s chore,
Scooping ******* off the floor,
Hiding roots of sick deceit —
Where mirages drag you deep.

Cut one root? Hear whining cries —
Excuses, lies, and alibis.
If you buy the dark’s false tricks,
You’re a *****, dumb as bricks.

World drowned in fascist ****,
Crazy as a lunatic.
From miners to the shrinks’ loony cage?
Shrink’s just sick inside that rage.

World’s a rotten ******* stage,
A theater for fools and rage.
Would Shakespeare play that insane part?
With madness tearing at his heart?

Dig deep — the stench will ******* choke,
This world’s a shittrap, full of joke.
Is this a world or just a pit?
A mousetrap baited with some ****.

Love ethology? You’ll burn fast —
This world’s a hell that’s built to last.
Study crime and write your lines?
Better catch the stink and fines.

Put respirators on your rhymes —
The stench rules all, destroying times.
Dictator foul, it burns the earth,
Turns life to ashes, **** to dearth.

I named professions, **** them all,
Let’s drown in hell’s obscene sprawl.
No saints here — just sinners lost,
Sinking fast at hell’s own cost.

Humility’s the worst disgrace,
Worse than ******, pride, or face.
Truth’s the deadliest thing to speak —
Truth’s the treasure fools all seek.

Poets get hate — that’s their prize,
Truth’s the blade behind their eyes.
Light’s fury scorches through the herd,
Their bleating cries unheard, absurd.

Light’s fury burns beyond the pane,
The sun incinerates the bane.
Few fools left? Then crush them hard —
Keep pushing, break their worthless guard.

Push through pain, outlast the grind,
Beat death’s cold claws, leave fools behind.
When light burns all the dumb-*** fools,
Is it the end? No, just new rules.

No — just a tear in crazy cloth,
A world broken, filled with sloth.
Spirit strong? No harm, no fall,
You’ll cross to realms beyond this stall.

Realms without the mousetrap’s bait,
Where spirit rules and minds are great.
Tricks and snares cast out by sin,
Where truth and light begin to win.

I’ll die beneath that hellhole place,
Escape the world’s disgraceful face.
Where will I go? Maybe the street —
A rogue’s world better to meet

Than this corrupt and broken hell,
Where reason’s ship just sank and fell.
Those bowing down to darkness’ lies
Survive by feeding on disguise.

Survival’s death for one and all,
A world of sheep will surely fall.
This world of slaves awaits the end —
No hope, just time to waste and spend.



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



Clearing Consciousness of Junk

Covered thick with dusty junk —
That praised so-called “conscious mind.”
A mountain of lies in every chunk,
A torment to the soul confined.

Only specks remain in sight,
Of what’s useful on the Way,
Where Spirit shines and Honor’s light
Can lead you to a new-born day.

You’ll be reborn if you just sweep
The filthy heaps of toxic lies.
Or else you’ll drown in shadows deep —
Since childhood, darkness feeds disguise.

The jackals of the endless night
Pollute your mind, **** soul and flame —
Obedience, their endless bite.
Don’t listen to their filthy game.

All propaganda — pure STINK,
The schools designed to dull the mind,
A cursed snake that slyly slinks,
To keep corruption intertwined.

Corruption grows and multiplies,
Turning men to beasts and drones.
Evil’s game with ***** lies —
Promising one thing, reaping bones.

The masses blind, mute, deaf and dumb,
Crushed tight in hell’s unyielding grip.
The spirit’s breath will soon become
A fleeting ghost on sinking ship.

The spirit crushed, evaporated —
The people turned to slaves of Hell.
Their will and hope decimated,
Into a quiet, lifeless shell.

Global Satanism,
Soullessness the highest goal.
Widespread idiocy — a schism
That rots the heart and kills the soul.

Fools forget their roots, their cause,
Their purpose lost to hollow screams.
Vegetables in nature’s jaws,
Baptized in lies and broken dreams.

They join the ranks of Satan’s pawns,
Rotten idiots tearing down
All that’s good, with wicked scorns,
Traitors in a ghastly town.

Like legions of the darkest night,
Degeneration rules the day.
Under Goat’s foul blasphemous might,
The world decays and slips away.

Resurrection lives in Spirit,
A cataclysm will sweep the dirt —
Fascism’s worldwide, merit
Burned away with all the hurt.

Go boldly inward, seek the light,
Let intuition be your guide.
Defeat the terror and the blight,
Of this wretched life’s pitied pride.

Spiritual roads and fearless acts
Will help your soul survive the flames.
Decay and rot are just the facts —
Fight the global evil games.

Are you scared? Then you’re the beast,
Don’t fear — but fight and find your way.
Seek answers in your soul at least,
Be steadfast — dawn will end the gray.

Enlightenment, then more —
That’s how darkness fades away.
Movement clears, less pain in store,
Less lies’ **** corrupts the day.

Influence of filth will fade,
Strength will rise, the path grows clear.
Mental illnesses cascade,
From poison Satan’s pushed so near.

Sweep away the junk with might —
Pure Consciousness will blaze anew.
Knowledge dawns, the world turns bright —
A clearer soul will shine through you.



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



World of Donkeys

Weeds in life’s great field —
All folks just donkeys plain.
The root of evil’s sealed —
Not field, but slime and stain.

A world of donkeys stuck —
Souls sold cheap for oats.
Darkness bred by rotten luck,
Traitors, dogs on ropes.

Since childhood, drilled inside,
Discard the worthless shell.
That shell’s design — a lie,
A stench you know too well.

The zombie box screams loud,
Stupidity’s the norm.
This hell’s no secret shroud —
Lies keep the herd in form.

All donkeys bought and sold,
A carrot dangled high.
To sell the soul is cold,
New lies make old ones die.

And blinders there are key —
A “gift” from upbringing’s hand.
A sentence, cursed decree:
Brains shackled, no command.

False science fits the blinders,
Priests echo the refrain.
Chains stronger than grinders,
As straw breaks, they remain.

Poisoned water, rotten hay —
To rot the mind’s the goal.
And total treason? Hey —
A question rhetorical.

Few here are not traitors,
Honor sold for hay.
Satan’s hailed creators,
Fascists rule the day.

Only “yeah!” shouts culture loud —
Here’s how it’s meant to be:
Working skins like cattle proud,
More hay will set you free.

The Donkey Messiah’s near —
Books say so, old and worn.
Good for pens and stables clear,
But souls remain unborn.

Now “smart ones” hide in holes,
Squeak squeak, their fearful sound.
And rightly so, for hell’s controls
Will soon be torn down.

Sun shines stronger every day,
Burning stink from Earth’s face.
So chain dogs bark in fierce array,
Monsters guard the place.

Chain dogs “rule” — or so they claim,
Monsters own the law:
Evil’s lords who fan the flame,
Foul beasts without a flaw.

To **** this vile disgrace,
One must sacrifice the self.
Retribution shows its face —
Now’s the final battle’s health.

Few souls, those truly pure,
Will be saved and stand tall.
Those in whom Spirit’s sure —
The Devil’s foes, after all.

The “Satanic icon” —
Is just the donkey’s face.
If fascism’s medical, done —
This freak show’s last disgrace.

No more darkness can remain!
All must be wiped away.
Forget caution’s fragile chain —
Salvation comes through decay.

So do not fear, advance!
Fight evil to the end.
Who said “just body” stance?
To hell those monsters send.

You are Spirit’s true essence,
Rejecting hell’s cruel bind.
Thrown in this mortal presence,
Built by a vile mind.

Go inward — see it all,
Don’t listen to the fools.
Our song’s not sung, won’t fall —
The World of Donkeys cools.

A World of Humans dawns,
Where Spirit takes the throne.
Though hard, this stage is drawn —
You’re not a slave alone.

If you dwell outside the ranks
Of Satan’s foul parade,
You know how soul gets drained,
When you herd with the swayed.



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



World of Donkeys

Weeds are all the “people” here —
Donkeys sold for scraps of hay.
Evil’s root ain’t far, my dear —
Slugs and slime have clogged the way.

Brains locked tight in blinders’ grip,
Since childhood forced to obey.
Traitors snarl, the darkness drip —
“Serve like dogs,” they bark, “all day!”

Lies pour from the zombie box,
Stupid masses march in chains.
Hell on Earth — no time for talks,
Lies keep slaves inside their lanes.

“Culture” here? Just empty noise,
Trash to sell and lies to spread.
Donkey gods and fake wise boys —
All to feed the living dead.

Sun burns foulness from the ground,
Chains will snap, the donkeys fall.
Fight or die, or be spellbound —
Spirit’s flame will break the thrall.

Only few will stand alive,
Those who hold the Spirit’s reign.
Donkeys drool, they won’t survive —
Satan’s slaves in endless pain.

No more darkness — wipe it out!
Salvation’s price is Death.
Face the final, savage bout —
Rise, the Spirit’s voice is breath!



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


World of Donkeys

Weeds crowd every field of life —
The so-called “people,” lost and blind.
Root of evil? Slugs and slime —
They’ve engulfed this Donkey World, confined.

A world where souls sell cheap as oats,
Where darkness breeds a traitor’s breed.
“Serve like dogs,” they bark from throats,
Since childhood, drilled to obey the creed.

Peel back the shell — the bitter core:
A filthy lie, a foul disgrace.
The noise of zombified folklore,
The idiot box rots every place.

Hell’s here, no fiction — it’s real pain,
All donkeys held with carrot sticks.
New lies sold daily, fresh and vain —
They teach them all to play their tricks.

And blinders given as a gift —
A sentence that condemns the mind.
False science scripts the brain’s swift drift,
While priests and liars fall in line.

Chains so weak, they snap like straw,
Yet poison waters with decay.
Total betrayal’s silent law —
Who’s faithful here? There’s none today.

Most sold their honor for a bale,
Satan’s hailed as “Creator” now.
The fascist reigns — a cruel detail,
The “god” they worship, “holy” brow.

Culture bleeds out hollow lies,
Skins peeled, worked for endless hay.
The Donkey Messiah’s old disguise —
Books penned for corrals, not for play.

“Smart ones” squeak from their dark holes,
Squeak, squeak! — while Hell prepares its end.
Sunlight burns the stench, it tolls —
Chain dogs howl, but can’t defend.

The chained dog, a “ruler” fake,
The vampire’s master, foul and sly.
Evil’s architect of ache,
A monstrous, twisted, super-psy.

To **** this filth, you must give all —
Sacrifice is last resort.
Retribution’s final call —
Now fights the last, relentless court.

Only few who hold the Spirit’s flame
Will rise above this blackened mass.
Those with Spirit’s reign proclaim —
They’re Satan’s true antithesis, alas.

Call any donkey “icon” here,
If fascism’s medical guise.
The end of evil’s nightmare near —
No more darkness, no disguise.

The Darkness grows no more, it’s clear —
We must erase this cursed blight.
No care for caution, death’s the gear —
Salvation dawns through final fight.

So do not fear! Step forth, stand tall,
Face filthy Evil’s last assault.
Who says you’re “just the body” small?
**** demons drag that lie to Hell’s vault.

You are Spirit, essence pure,
Rejecting Hell’s imprisoning chains.
Thrown into this harsh manure,
Built by vile, corrupt remains.

Go inward — see the truth inside,
Ignore the fools who croak and bawl.
Our song’s unfinished, truth’s our guide —
The Donkey World will surely fall.

A Human World will rise anew,
Where Spirit rules, the guide and king.
Though this hard stage will test you through,
You’re no donkey, not a slave to sin.

You dwell outside Satan’s herd,
Know well how souls are crushed and killed
In mobs of beasts, by lies deferred —
In stables dark, their souls are spilled.



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



Resistance

No fixed objects — only flows:
All in nature’s wave will rise.
Time’s excess bends, unfolds —
Nonlinear war in skies.

The battle’s fought inside the mind,
“Objective” world is shaped.
One goal — to banish soul, confined,
To forge a soulless state.

To make a monster here on earth,
A beast without a heart,
To drive biobots off to death,
And keep the herd apart.

No “self” exists — they mold the slaves,
A conveyor-line of pain.
The schools all hack the minds like blades —
No brain, just empty drain.

False religions crush the soul’s flight,
Dark sons of Satan reign.
For Satanism, deep as night,
Has soaked this world’s domain.

At core — the cynic’s poisoned lie,
Pseudo-science’s ****.
Created falsehoods multiply,
To **** the truth, commit.

No place for mechanistic truth —
The Spirit wiped from sight.
Materialism’s hollow tooth
Cuts deep with half-truth’s bite.

Blatant lies flood every space,
Hard to expose the clan.
The “family” hides disgrace —
Politician, priest, and fan.

Censorship drives critics out,
No room for honest voice.
The world’s a web, not fools’ chains stout,
But monsters made their choice.

Total slavery begins inside —
In mind, the curse is sown.
You wallow in filth, nowhere to hide,
From birth until you’re bone.

Blinded, crippled, bound by lies —
Believe no false decree.
Reject their “morals,” their disguise —
Their laws that bind and flee.

Reject the traps, the genocide —
Fascism claws the land.
The mind’s near dead, no place to hide,
The plague across the sand.

Spiritless — a pandemic cold,
So “Sheep-COVID” thrives.
The evil **** poison food and soul,
The shame of all our lives.

We’ve hit the bottom’s darkest pit —
A world’s concentration.
The sheep are only food for it
If mind’s a lost sensation.

Break lies apart, build clans anew,
Inject your force and flame.
The lies of pseudo-science slew
Our hope — resist the same!

Keep Spirit’s light — intuition’s fire,
Honor it as your guide.
Fight evil fierce — tradition’s pyre,
The answer at your side.

For those still wise, the choice is clear:
Unite or face the grave.
Flee insane cities filled with fear —
You’re human, not their slave.

The Light will rise, the Power come,
We’ll crush the Darkness’ hold.
The vile and fools will rot and numb,
Their yoke will break, be told.

Don’t fear the fight — resist the lie,
Save soul and mind inside.
Forget the freaks who feast and pry —
Their lies will rot and die.

They’ll feast themselves to slow decay,
Half-life rots all they’ve bred.
Multiply Resistance every day —
Or die like beasts, misled.



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



Resistance

No objects here — just raging streams,
All nature pulses, wild waves.
Time warps and breaks with violent screams,
Nonlinear chaos paves.

The war’s inside the human mind,
A “false world” forged by ****.
One goal — to **** the soul, confined,
And leave the heart struck dumb.

To spawn a beast with hollow guts,
A soulless, wired fiend,
To herd us all like stupid mutts,
No freedom — just the mean.

No “self” survives — they craft the drones,
A soulless slave machine.
Schools butcher minds with brutal tones —
Brains shredded, stripped, and clean.

False faiths chain every soul’s ascent,
Dark spawn of Satan’s brood.
Satanism’s poison long cemented,
In lies and vile crude.

At root — the cynic’s venomous lie,
Pseudo-science **** they spew.
Built from lies, designed to die,
The mind crushed through and through.

No place for spirit, all erased,
Mechanism’s blind cage.
Materialist slaves are placed,
Half-truths fuel the rage.

Blatant lies fill every crack,
Exposing ****’s a test.
The “family” of frauds attacks —
Politician, priest, fascist pest.

Censors chase out truth’s sharp voice,
No freedom to dissent.
The world’s a web, not fools’ dumb choice,
But monsters make the rent.

Total slavery starts inside,
The mind’s the battlefield.
You swim in filth — nowhere to hide,
From birth until you yield.

Blinded, cut, and stripped of light —
Believe no worthless law.
Dump their morals, drop the fight —
Their chains are meant to gnaw.

Reject their traps, their genocide —
Fascism’s vile claw.
The mind is dead, a place to hide?
No hope, no mercy, no law.

Spiritless — the plague is real,
Sheep-COVID thrives in dirt.
Evil poisons all we feel,
Shame on those who hurt.

We’ve sunk to hell’s deepest pit —
A world camp for the blind.
Sheep are food if brains don’t fit,
Lost minds they’ll surely grind.

Smash the lies, build fierce new clans,
Inject raw strength and fire.
Pseudo-science kills all plans —
Resist or drown in mire.

Hold tight to Spirit’s blazing spark,
Intuition’s sword and shield.
Make fighting evil your hallmark,
Tradition won’t yield.

For those still sharp — unite or die,
Or rot beneath the blade.
Flee the mad cities’ hollow cry —
You’re human, not their slave.

Light will rise, and power flood,
We’ll burn the darkness down.
Vile **** and fools will rot in mud,
Their yoke will crack, then drown.

Fear not the fight — resist the lie,
Save soul and mind with steel.
Forget the freaks who crawl and spy —
Their lies will break and peel.

They’ll feast themselves on slow decay,
Half-dead and rotting fast.
Multiply Resistance every day —
Or die a beast at last.



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



RESISTANCE

No things — just raging PROCESSIONS,
Nature’s waves crash, pulse, and swell.
Time’s a twisted, brutal SESSION —
Nonlinear war, a living hell.

The battlefield’s inside your brain,
They forge a fake “objective” world,
One goal — to trap your soul in chains,
A soulless corpse, the flag unfurled.

A beast of wires, cold and cruel,
Biobots driven to the ****.
They herd us, puppets as their fuel,
No freedom — slaves beneath their will.

No “self” remains, just soulless gears,
The slave conveyor grinds the mind.
“Schools” castrate thought — no hope appears,
Brains like sieves, all drained and blind.

False gods chain every spirit’s flight,
Sons of Satan hold the reign.
Their poison’s old — a venomous blight,
Lies, cynicism, blood and pain.

Pseudo-science — the perfect lie,
******* wrapped in smart disguise.
Born to crush your mind and try
To make you blind, deaf, paralyzed.

Spirit’s wiped — mechanized death,
Material slaves cut deep with lies.
Half-truths choke the final breath,
And censorship guards their disguise.

A family of frauds in league,
Politicians, priests, paid hacks.
Critics chased out, voices fatigued,
The truth gets thrown beneath the tracks.

The world’s a web of living ties,
Not chains for fools to wear as slaves.
But **** designed the cage and lies,
Constructed mental iron graves.

Total slavery starts inside —
The mind is war, the soul’s a prey.
You bathe in filth, your sight denied,
From birth to death you rot away.

Blind and crippled, spirit cut —
Don’t buy their “morals,” laws, or schemes.
Throw off their traps, their ****** gut,
Resist their dark, genocidal dreams.

Fascism reigns — a stinking plague,
Brains nearly dead, eyes blind with hate.
Spiritless — the world’s a cage,
Sheep-COVID seals your fate.

Poisoned food, defiled water,
Shameful depths of world decay.
A global camp, no sons or daughters —
Just sheep to slaughter, thrown away.

Smash the lies! Build warriors’ bands!
Inject the power, light the fire!
**** the pseudoscience that commands,
Resist, resist — or face the pyre!

Hold fast to Spirit’s raging spark,
Intuition’s sword and shield.
Make fight with darkness your trademark —
Tradition that won’t yield.

For few who see, unite or die,
Rot in chains or break and rise.
Flee the mad city’s empty cry —
You’re human — not their sacrifice.

Light will burn and power swell,
We’ll scorch the darkness into ash.
**** and fools will rot in hell,
Their yoke will snap and break — then crash!

Fear not the fight — resist the lie,
Save soul and mind with sharpened steel.
Forget the beasts that crawl and spy —
Their lies will break and truth reveal.

They’ll feast on slow decay inside,
Half-dead, rotting to the core.
Multiply Resistance, fight with pride —
Or die a beast, lost evermore.



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



ON THE BLOCK

Life’s a slave-chain, sick and choking —
Filth and Darkness, Fear, and Lies.
Soul can drown, but keep provoking —
Raise Resistance to the Spies.

Crush the lies, build strong communes,
Find the sane, shun fools and clowns.
Fools obey the Darkness’ runes —
Their “law” is chains, not freedom’s crowns.

Learn the methods of the fiends —
They rule fools with sick regimes.
All the misery’s a scheme,
Rot and ruin by design, it seems.

Pseudo-life traps all in chains,
In the little things they bind.
Endless lies and endless pains —
No light in most eyes you’ll find.

Only few remain alive,
Others zombies, broken, cracked.
Fools and idiots survive —
Brains enslaved and sanity sacked.

Learn the tricks to dumb you down,
Monsters breed on fear and lies.
Meet their evil without frown —
Watch the guile beneath their guise.

Evil shifts but stays the same,
Every guile repeats again.
Death may wear a different name —
Or call itself “a better pain.”

If you’re on the chopping block,
Fear has no place in your chest.
Block’s the grave where fools just rot,
Among the worthless, stuck and stressed.

Study vile stench of smears —
Enemy known is half won.
Smears control the puppeteers,
Beasts who play with everyone.

They’re so easy to enslave,
Feeding lies and fear, they thrive.
Through the memes, through clips they pave
Chains to keep the herd alive.

Master all and use with skill —
In the fight, be sharp, be bold:
Maybe dawn won’t come for you,
But inside **** the night’s cold hold.

Night on block — the end, the pit,
Bottom reached, no further fall.
Never lived — just rot and ****,
In the lies that crawl and crawl.

Death beats death — and then you’ll find
Chance for Freedom’s shining spark.
Spirit’s life will clear your mind,
False religions leave you dark.

Go inside — there lie the keys,
Answers hidden in the deep.
Gurus? Just lost lunacies,
Rotting in their graveyard sleep.

Night on block — strength melts away,
Only fiery creative might
Can increase the force today —
Don’t let darkness ***** your light.

Fools will twist and judge your art —
Mix your fight with blazing fire:
Rage and Light to heal the heart,
Raise the new, ignite desire.

New Warrior, Warrior of Light,
Without fire’s breath — a worthless trick.
In creation find the fight,
See beyond, the Spirit’s flick.

Spirit, struggle, art — move on!
Stink of lies will fade and fall.
Only wholeness will dawn —
Darkness cannot hold it all.

Minds will crack beneath the weight
Of rotten fiends’ deceitful lies.
Hidden spark inside the hate —
Not born in this sea of cries.

Find that ember, feed the flame,
Turn it fierce to raging fire.
Only fighting — no surrender —
Brings the victory you desire.

Enemies fear one thing most —
That flame alive in many hearts.
So with lies they raise their ghost,
Try to tear that truth apart.

Simple Truth — fight to embrace,
Hold it tight, don’t let it stray.
In the dark, don’t lose the chase,
Light the fire, show the way.

With that light, you lead the dawn,
**** the horror Night has spawned.




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



ON THE BLOCK

Life’s a chain — we’re slaves to lies,
Crush the darkness, burn the skies!
On the block — no fear, no cry,
Fight the night till dawn is nigh!

Fiends control with fear and scheme,
Break their chains — ignite the Dream!
Soul’s the fire, spirit’s fight —
Light the torch and **** the night!



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



Aggregates

We’re nothing but aggregates —
**** of clinging lies and traps.
****** feeds on our weakness,
We swallow poison gaps.

Mad vessels, cracked and broken,
**** poured deep inside —
Lice crawl, minds are stolen,
Consciousness denied.

Spirit — you’re the Essence,
Drop your endless pain,
All this “daily suffering” —
Souls bound in the chain.

Strive to break your shackles,
Escape the slave’s mad pen.
It’s no mere nightmare —
This stench corrodes within.

It rots the very soul,
Leaves but a fragment bare.
Don’t listen to the whispers —
Only scraps linger there.

Saving Spirit’s sacred spark
Is the primal fight:
Through madness’ death and ruin,
We must reclaim the light.

Now more than ever —
Fascism thrives on lies,
Decay is all around —
Filth before our eyes.

Two thirds turned to fools,
Distorted through and through.
Generations wasted,
Maddened to the skew.

Step inside your being —
The answers wait within.
Then fight the outer darkness,
Defeat decay and sin.

In struggle lies salvation,
Even Buddha died —
Beyond the gods, beyond the lies,
Truth still won’t hide.

Drive out fear and falsehood,
Bring light to far and near,
To this cursed world of madness —
Break chains, and show no fear.



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



Aggregates

We’re cursed aggregates, bound in lies,
Fed poison, rotted, fools and spies.
Break chains inside, ignite your soul —
Fight madness, or be lost and stole.



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



Colossus on Rotten Legs

Migrating birds still cross the skies,
The sun shines harsh and fiercely bright,
But madness of our chains still lies—
A plague of rotten stumps in sight.

This country clings to fools and traitors,
Like cement mixing with decay.
That foul cement, those rotten haters—
A monument to fascist sway.

It stands unfallen—miracle?
A colossus on legs of rot.
Where **** and Judas wear the pinnacle,
The wise are crushed, forgot, forgot.

The number of the sane and spiritual
Shrinks fast—a genocide at play.
The vile tyrants grow more brutal,
While shame and ruin lead the way.

With guns, the scumbags march and grind,
To slaughter’s pit they drag the herd.
The soulless fools won’t even mind—
Their Spirit’s cut, no voice, no word.

Soulless plague, a pandemic’s grip,
Demons rule this shrunken sphere.
Their masks so well that fools can’t strip—
Invisible, yet always near.

Factories for dumbed-down minds:
Schools, kindergartens, and colleges—
Darkness holds all future kinds,
And filthy **** completes their wreckage.

Fascist lies, relentless spin,
Drive out what little mind remains.
The thieves and rogues will rob and sin—
You’re left to rot in piles of stains.

This filth they call a fatherland,
Held tight by bonds forged out of lies.
A fascist monstrosity’s hand
Controls the world—while hope just dies.

The wretched fools now tremble, wait
For endless “surprises” worse.
Selling their souls at broken gates,
The end is madness, dark, perverse.

The migratory birds still fly,
But will they reach the hearts of men?
The world’s a madhouse, built on lies—
Ruled by inhuman beasts again.

The sun remains—the final blaze—
Will burn the filth right to the bone.
It’ll end the madness, fear, and haze—
Destroy the shame, reclaim the throne.



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


A Different Way to See

A different way of seeing,
Not what’s been impressed—
It breaks the ancient spell
That’s long oppressed.

A universal fog,
Where you’re a rotten part:
The world, the “enemy”—
Harass the weary heart.

Spiritual unity
And breadth of mind will break
The filth and vanity
That rot and choke the stake.

“Object” reeks of garbage—
“Subject” trapped in hell.
We’ve hit the bottom’s carcass—
Few who don’t smell the smell.

Awaken intuition,
Let critical thought grow strong—
Doubt tradition’s fiction,
Inside, discern the wrong.

You’ll find the Spirit’s Light—
Then you’re redeemed, set free.
While howling “subject” blight—
A slave to flags you’ll be.

Today’s fascist banner
Wears a “red cross” disguise;
Propaganda’s enema
Washes out all wise.

No places free from fascism
Remain beneath the sun.
All thanks to crass idiocy—
The source of every wrong.

This isn’t simple—alchemy:
Catch fleeting sparks of truth;
We’ll change as one, completely—
United in love’s youth,

In collective knowing,
And Light’s eternal flame.
Don’t dawdle—seek your growing—
Burn what’s false, what’s lame.

They’ve dumped heaps of blatant lies—
Sharp stings like mirage’s bite.
“Subject”-“object” divide
Is half a false insight.

If ego’s crushed and killed—
An ocean vast appears.
That ocean floods the “object,”
Washes away all fears.

In minds, the wounds still fester,
Satan’s cunning plan.



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


Rats and Goats

The rats have gone insane—
Fascist ****, they spread,
Hanging dark above the world,
That filth won’t drop dead.

It won’t dissolve or vanish—
Up to ankles now,
And it’ll get its harvest—
From Souls it’ll plow.

The frenzy keeps on growing,
Backing every strike,
The dull ones, like hamsters,
Spin wheels they never like.

They’ll vanish soon enough—
Soulless ones arrive,
Here everything has price,
And low is the drive.

They’ll lie and you’ll believe,
The fall begins to turn,
The world sinks to the bottom—
Dullness everywhere burns.

Gone are “films and Germans,”
Parodies of “free,”
The natives in the crosshairs—
Fascist rabble’s spree.

Fascists and the madmen—
Newest nightmare born.
Plus ******’s element—
No need for prisons worn.

No need for executions—
Idiot’s so tamed,
You can mow down fools freely
With syringes named.

The chaos grows worldwide,
The forecast grim as hell—
This happens all the time,
When minds can’t break the spell.

If smart, then howl and bow,
Wail, cry, and moan your pain—
Don’t step outside the herd,
Blindness you must gain,

To not behold the Hell.
But if you’re serious—
Hold on a little longer—
The world will go delirious.

Then comes the final fight
With Evil’s deadly flame.
But now, be sharp as knife—
Don’t be the goat to blame.

So much has gone corrupt—
War’s example true.
Not all is lost—stand up—
We’ll fight the **** anew.



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



Rats and Goats

The rats have lost their minds —
Fascist ****, they crawl,
Hung like poison over all,
That filth will never fall.

It’s sinking in the muck —
Up to ankles, soaked.
It’ll feast on broken Souls,
A *******’s ****** joke.

Mad dogs backing every strike,
Stupid like dumb rats —
Spinning wheels in cages,
Drooling dumb and fat.

They’ll vanish, yes, but then —
Soulless fiends will come.
Everything’s got a price,
And low is what’s become.

They lie — you swallow ****,
And plunge the world to hell,
A wasteland full of dumbness,
A mindless prison cell.

Forget the “films and Germans,”
Fake “freedom” parodies,
The natives in the crosshairs,
Fascist **** disease.

Fascists and insane nuts —
A nightmare bred anew,
*****’s rotten stench—
No need for cells or crews.

No shots needed — fools are tamed,
You can **** them slow with ease.
The chaos spreads worldwide,
A plague on all degrees.

If smart, then howl and kneel,
Wail loud, beg and moan,
Don’t break from the herd,
Blind your eyes — be stone.

So you won’t see the Hell,
If serious — hold fast,
The world’s about to snap,
The last fight comes at last.

But now be sharp, like steel,
Not some dumb goat to bleed.
Corruption’s deep and real —
War’s lesson’s clear indeed.

Not all’s lost — resist the ****,
Stand up and make them pay,
Fight back the foul infestation —
Burn their **** away.



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



The Light Will Come

Snitches, torturers, fools and freaks,
The world’s drowned deep in darkest nights.
That’s why the pain and endless grief,
Because we lost the dawn’s first light.

The People of the Light are few,
While traitors swarm like endless plague.
Spirit, Conscience, Honor too —
Are rare, amidst the rotten vague.

But blinded freaks can’t see the truth,
If all they know is madhouse hell,
They can’t fight evil’s brutal ruth,
Nor grasp its vast, total spell.

They’ll choose their goat, their Judas’ name,
The “wise” who sell their souls for gold,
The priests and liars just the same,
While wickedness takes hold and molds.

To stay not vile is **** near hell,
For eons of disgrace and shame
Have stamped the herd’s dull, broken shell —
No society remains.

The few with Spirit, Mind and Heart,
Are fading fast, the clock runs down...
The answers live inside your part,
Not lost in Hell’s suffocating drown.

Remember this, or rot unknown,
Sink deep in lies, a filthy pit,
A hellhole where no light has shone,
No hope to ever quit.

A brutal shift will shake the few —
The time is near to shed the sleep,
Cast out the seeds of evil’s hue,
Destroy the poison buried deep.

Restore your Spirit’s rightful place,
Rise high above the vile and vile,
The traitors fall, the fools erased —
This price we pay for every trial.

Total war now stains the ground,
Reason clashes with the blind.
The ones who stand will be unbound,
While others fall behind.

The meek who bow to fools and liars,
Sink worse than demons dragging down,
And bottom’s reached, the fire’s higher —
A purge will burn this cursed town.

The soul enslaved is doomed to die,
Fascist filth to wastes consigned.
Who claimed man’s king beneath the sky?
A failed test of warped design.

Instead of gold, it’s dung and slime,
A cesspool drowning in the muck.
The slime breeds slime, the filth will climb —
But soon the storm will shatter luck.

Forget the chains that bind your mind —
If you’re in Spirit, Light will come.



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



The Mooing...

"How I wished to burn away
Within me every trace:
Of cowardice and foolishness,
Softness — kindness, in disgrace!
I’d stand unlike the rest below,
Smart, bold, unbreakable —
In short, a ******* through and through."
— Evgeny Lukin


Cowardice, dull-wittedness,
Softness — slave’s disguise.
But courage always wears the crown,
No matter how harsh the skies.

If firm you stand, unbending still,
And keep your mind intact,
In this foul stinking hell on earth,
This *****-covered fact —

You won’t be tainted, hear me well.
You’ve got to see it clear:
The world’s beneath a fascist **** —
So **** the whining fear!

Be ruthless, fierce, and blazing strong,
Kind only to your own.
There are so few who truly stand,
The masses just the drone.

The lies have darkened Heaven’s light,
Genocide spreads wide,
Decay and filth are everywhere,
The mind is crucified.

Most souls are dead — forgotten tales
No longer hold their sway.
We’re minority in this hell,
So do not stray away.

A few still march through nightmare’s grip,
Towards the dawn’s faint glow.
But that light’s so far off, it’s grim,
Too long the crawl and slow.

Only warrior’s hardened mind,
A fighter’s iron will,
Can pull us partly from this Sod—
A fragment saved still.

But many break, and many fall,
Not all will understand.
They hear just “Halt!” and bark commands
From madness’ cruel hand.

Fascists rule the fiendish pack,
Turning nations into cattle.
Shall we just moo about "goodness"?
This fascist scourge loves battle—

To **** the meek, the mooing sheep,
Wake up, don’t fall asleep!
Though wounded deep, your soul must fight—
Fight hard, fight strong, fight deep!



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



Mooing’s Death Cry

Cowards, fools, soft sheep —
Slaves in coward’s chains.
Courage is the weapon,
Rage runs through our veins.

Fascist filth controls the world,
Whining’s just the shame.
Fight the herd, break the chains —
Burn their sickening game.

Wake up, soul! Tear your wounds,
Rip the lies apart.
Fight the fascist slaughter—
**** their poison heart!



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



Mooing’s Death Cry

Cowards, fools, soft wimps —
Slave **** groveling low.
Courage’s all that’s left —
In this fascist blow.

The world’s a ******* ruled
By lying, savage pests.
Whiners bleed, but weak sheep
Are fodder for the rest.

Rip off your chains, you *******!
Burn the fascist lies!
Fight the sickness, the filth,
Till their empire dies!

Wake your bleeding soul,
Even if torn and scarred.
Fight, tear down their hell,
Be fierce — be hard!

No mercy for the herd,
No softness for the ******.
It’s war to the bone,
Fight with fist and hand!



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



Negative Selection

Talents crushed like grass in fields —
Here, they **** and never yield.
Hype the scammers, feed the trash,
Pop tunes drown the mind’s own clash.

The world’s a game of lies and trade,
Deception’s mask is proudly played.
What feeds decay, degrade, distort —
Support it, boost the foul report.

Reverse selection, rule by fear,
Dictatorship and genocide near.
All rats hide deep in their dens —
The proven ******* lie again.

They check the **** with iron hand,
Satan’s grip tightens the land.
If you hold a spark of God,
They’ll drag you down through filth and sod.

You’ll bubble in the slime below,
Till rot consumes and breaks your glow.
Talent’s meant to fight the dark —
That’s why they crush it, **** the spark.

All Satans, infant demons, cheer
The poison clouding minds so clear.
Bribed fools shout their empty art,
Banishing honor, soul, and heart.

“Science” turned to endless hell,
The cursed tale these traitors tell —
A land of junk, a prison’s grip,
Where talent dies in fellowship.

They’re tormentors of mind and soul,
The rulers of the rotten whole.
Corrupt to core, no longer men —
Monsters lurking in their den.

When all has rotted to the bone,
New life may sprout from shattered stone.
But now the idiot chains still clang,
Slave’s yoke harsh, a poisoned fang.

Those chains — lies served in slow decay,
Blind illusions lead astray.
Only Spirit’s light can break
The endless dark and falsehood’s stake.

Else you’re a soulless slave below,
Your only path: descend and bow.

The bottom cracked — it’s falling fast,
Soon all this filth will be the past.
Such stench demands a cleansing flame —
Burn every trace of this foul shame.

And now the sun begins to blaze,
To scorch the slaves and tyrant’s haze.
For chains have piled beyond control —
Slavery, darkness, shame’s black hole.

People scurry, mice in holes,
Hearing lies that choke their souls.



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



****-Burner

“Our Russia!!!” — no, not yours,
Just a colony, long sold out.
Slaves toil cheap amid the sores,
Ruins spread, and filth about.

****-eaters, pests of every kind,
Idiots riding ****’s dark wave.
Devils keep the chains aligned,
In hell’s grip, no soul to save.

Inhuman fiends now rule this world,
Russia’s but a testing ground,
Where everything’s a cesspool hurled,
And spirit’s chased from all around.

Fake viruses, wars that rage,
Prove the madness in each mind.
Nearly all have lost their gauge —
Believing **** of every kind.

The box of lies feeds “sacred ties,”
Healing fools from fake disease.
How ridiculous the cries
Amid the filth and choking freeze

Of those few souls who still resist
The filthy Hell that claims this land,
Where traitors **** what’s pure and blessed,
With poison on their filthy hands.

But other worlds are cesspools too:
Fascism’s reign is king in sight,
The last fight’s reason — to break through
The madness, darkness, endless night.

Satan conquers all around,
Building camps across the globe,
Killing Spirit, breaking ground,
While intellect’s a scarce wardrobe.

Decay and shame infest the soil,
Turning humans into beasts.
Earth reeked of filth and turmoil —
The stench that never seems to cease.

Yet the great ****-burner, Sun —
Has begun the cleansing fire.
Traitors worse than all the world’s ****
Face the flames of purging pyre.

Darkness, treachery, decay —
Are common places in this time.
But the burner’s light will slay —
Saving souls in sacred climb.

**** will burn and fade away,
Sent to worlds beyond the night.
Fight through chaos, hold your sway,
Unbreakable in bitter fight.

In this war you save your soul —
All else is worthless, just the haze.
Trust yourself, reject the whole
Of lies — and ease your heavy ways.



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



Shitburner

“Our Russia?” — Hell no, not yours,
Just a colony, long sold cheap.
Slaves drag chains through filth and sores,
Rot and ruin run so deep.

****-eaters, pests, and brain-dead fools,
All riding on the ****’s back,
Devils owning broken rules,
Hell’s tight grip — no turning back.

Monsters rule this rotten world,
Russia’s just a testing pit,
Turn the land to latrine hurled,
Drive the Spirit from its grit.

Fake plagues spread, fake wars ignite —
Proof that minds have snapped and cracked,
Most have lost the will to fight,
Swallow lies, get twisted, smacked.

TV screams their “holy chains,”
“Cures” for fools, fake hope, fake dreams.
Laughable, their endless pains
Amidst the sludge and deathly screams.

Few souls left, still holding flame
In this hellhole full of traitors —
Vipers killing all the same,
Dooming truth, enslaving waiters.

And the “other worlds” — cesspools worse,
Fascism’s throne in full command.
Last fight’s reason — break the curse,
Fight for brain, for spirit’s stand.

Satan’s grip across the lands,
Building camps of global shame.
Spirit crushed by ***** hands,
Brains reduced to little flame.

Decay turns humans into beasts,
Earth’s a swamp of stinking waste.
All that’s pure and good has ceased —
Filth and rot gone to full haste.

But the great shitburner Sun —
Fires up the cleansing flame.
Traitors worse than hell begun —
Burn away their cursed name.

Darkness, treachery, decay —
Common words for this **** age.
But the burner paves the way,
Saving souls from prison’s cage.

**** will burn, fade into dust,
Sent beyond the dark unknown.
Fight with fire, fight with trust,
Stand unbroken, stand alone.

In this war your soul’s the prize —
All else is ****, just empty lies.
Trust yourself, see through the lies —
And the path will clear your skies.



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



Fake Images and Total Lies

Imposed images forced on us,
Repeating lies like broken clocks,
For fools they’re compasses, thus—
All overgrown with weeds and mocks.

We “live” as if in fairy tales,
But Ivan’s just a fool in mask,
A cracked idiot who derails,
While kingdoms drown in chaos’ task.

The compass leads straight to the stall,
Wool growing thick on sheep’s dull backs.
Here lies are like cheap *****’ call,
Hangover’s called IDIOT CRACKS.

Here schemers gather, thrones they build,
Clans of **** behind the scenes,
Crafting memes, illusions filled,
No ends found in their machines.

Screen monkeys spread the fake agenda,
Those who read will soon be jailed.
Madmen’s homes await defenders,
While the sheep march, blindly hailed.

“Attack them!” cries the crowd insane,
Soon storms brew in eyeglass lands.
Images like comics—insane,
A mess with no connecting strands.

Designed by evil’s hand to break
Each fool into a nuclear split,
Separated, lost, opaque,
Trapped in mental endless pit.

Emotions flood, but thoughts are gone,
All just shadows of a madhouse.
Vile nonsense clogs the dawn
Inside these fools’ closed mental house.

Three quarters of them rotten core,
Add scoundrels running herds around,
****** feeds on lies galore,
Fake words, false images abound.

They call the fools “our own,” or “norm,”
The world’s long sick with dumb disease.
Named “stability,” the storm
Of **** grows with added yeast.

Build your camp, cure lies’ dark plague,
Seek happiness in fake despair.
If you become a microbe vague,
Joy and thrills will fill your wear.

Forward, drive to Satan’s rule,
The fake will crush all souls who fight.



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



The Asylum

The psychotic, psychotic—
Countless souls, a boundless swarm!
Not just dull, but frantic, toxic,
This is madness in full form.

The world grows scarce in sanity,
And fools are bred on lies’ sting—
Artificial dull insanity,
Poison sharp as serpent’s sting.

The schizophrenic haze spreads—
The whole environment’s a plague.
To fuel decay, dark forces led
A mass descent to endless vague.

The venomous lies circulate,
Poison food and water too—
Decay becomes the cruelest fate,
Spreading sickness, old and new.

Break bonds, atomize the world
Into ego’s shattered parts—
A beastly terror’s now unfurled,
Satan reigns in broken hearts.

Psychiatrists unwilling fight
To save the few who still remain.
The power of Satan’s blight
Makes sanity hard to sustain.

To not go mad with foolish herds,
To keep your spirit unbetrayed,
Is war against the mindless words,
Against the chains of lies displayed.

Enough of lies in this asylum—
A global madhouse’s domain...
New wars bring no meaningful balm,
If in your mind there’s only pain.

If you don’t guard your inner throne,
The fools will **** you quiet, slow.
Control the fools, but not alone—
**** the weeds, or reap what grows.

The garden’s full of venomous snakes,
Such vermin spread across the earth.
In worldwide filth, the poison stakes—
The creatures drown all hope’s rebirth.

This soulless beast is what they crave,
The inhuman breed that wars with light.
The spirit’s purity they crave—
The soul’s the prize in endless fight.

If this you fail to understand,
And fight not evil’s creeping gloom,
You’ll drown a frog in boiling sand—
And rise again a goat in doom.



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



Thrown Off the Track

Dulled-out fools, the worthless pests,
And above them, scoundrels reign:
Dumb as corks and brazen pests,
Arrogance is their gain.

Boldness rules — it’s bliss, not poison,
Bribes the way, the crooked path.
The rabble rushes, no reason,
Straight to Hell — no turning back.

They turned a highway, once so wide,
Into a single-track —
So pour a drink! No sober ride
Will save from falling back.

This train won’t last, it’s bound to crash,
The rails will blow — off goes the load.
Decay’s a tale, a putrid splash,
A flood of lies — a vile ode.

The stench can choke you on the way,
No breath to draw, no place to hide.
Off the track, a few will stay —
The ones who chose the path, who tried.

But vipers herd us all as cattle,
Packed tight in one foul train.
Like sarin gas and poison battle,
They drive the Spirit mad with pain.

Only shells remain behind,
Scrap or freight, the empty husks.
When the lines here end, you’ll find
Reason gone, drowned in the dust.

The Spirit crushed, the herd remains,
A freight car for destruction’s call.
Just wipe them out, no hope remains—
The stench will clear, the shadows fall.

Mother Earth chokes on the stink,
And fools? She no longer needs.
Once docile idiots, now on the brink—
Reduced to beasts, the herd proceeds.

Only few keep mind and soul,
Dying like birds trapped in a cage,
Surrounded by flies that troll,
In their prison, rage and age.

Spirit to Spirit, dust to dust—
The fall approaches fast.
So cast away all lies and rust—
You’ve outgrown this world at last.

If you have thought and fought the fight,
Never bent, nor split in two,
Never betrayed the Spirit’s light—
Then this fall won’t swallow you.



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



Space

Space is not empty —
All “objects” lie.
If your mind’s too heavy,
You’ll fall through the sky.

Look between the shadows,
Find the threads so thin,
Hope lives in the Spirit —
Not the filth within.

Since childhood they deform us
With their crude material lies.
These ******* inherit
Fascism’s despise.

All is false — science,
Art, and every book.
Corrupt ****** they weave chains
For minds that never look.

Chains of thought —
This vile slavery’s core.
Mountains of crap —
Fake religions and more.

Rudeness rules all,
“Education” a cage.
You won’t break the curse
With whining or rage.

Satan’s law reigns here.
Genocide, centuries long.
Damage immense —
Fools throng, throng, throng.

So boldly go inward —
Only Spirit can save.
Forget all the filth —
Find the path that’s brave.

If your mind stands firm
And you dare to live on,
You’ll cast out the evil,
And joy will be won.

So struggle, resist,
The key is the Mystery.
Dive deep in its midst —
See new worlds you’ll see.

Shift your focus —
And behold the Space;
Learn the Moment —
Time’s wild embrace.

Time can flow
Another way to save.
Many heralds rise
To topple the grave.

Seek the essence everywhere,
You’ll find answers profound.
So don’t despair —
Let Winter be drowned.

This Hell will be crushed —
Spirit’s light will renew.
Every fiend here will perish.
Brave souls will rise anew.

Fight fiercely, discard
All the filth and decay.
This cesspool’s long dead —
Stand firm, strong, and stay.



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



Consciousness

To cleanse the Consciousness —
That’s the righteous way.
A vow to Spirit’s essence,
You’re not flesh’s play.

The Spirit’s core is sacred,
So cast off the “daily,”
Or you’ll become corrupted —
A vile soul, unruly.

Not humans, but pests
Overflow this world’s stage.
They feed on lies through media,
You’re just stuck in their cage.

Will fools catch and trap you?
Lock you tight in a cell?
If Spirit’s truly grasped —
To hell with their hell.

Aged children — dumb herds,
Know only their chains,
They hunger for carcasses —
Like beasts in the drains.

They’re dead, these zombies —
Call it what you will.
Zombie mobs, self-serving,
Feeding *****’s ill.

This madhouse is *****,
A foolish world decayed.
So laugh at the madness —
Though drenched in the shade.

The world’s been vomited
With lies so vile and base.
Lies miscalculated —
Spewed out in disgrace.

Even fools complain:
Propaganda’s fallen low.
The world’s “sick” — full of ****,
On a poisoned blow.

All stung by venom —
Healed of their own life.
When did fools become
Slugs crawling in strife?

In rows they press tight —
A global death camp.
They’ll melt and recast
The fool to a damp stamp.

Those not crushed to death —
Will be chipped and aligned,
Linked to servers, praising
Satan’s dark design.

Better death than such fate —
Seek the brave, stand tall.
Face Evil boldly —
Spend your years, not as thralls.



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



Consciousness

To purge the Consciousness —
The path of truth unfolds.
A sacred vow to Spirit,
Not flesh that time corrodes.

The Spirit’s core eternal,
Reject the mundane thrall,
Or else you’ll turn to shadow —
A worm within the fall.

Not men, but soulless parasites
Infest this dying sphere,
Feeding lies through screens and noise —
Your mind a snared frontier.

Will fools ensnare your soul?
Lock spirit deep in chains?
If you have grasped the Spirit —
Their prisons are but veins.

The aged herd, mind-shattered,
Bound tight in darkness’ grip,
Feeding on decay and flesh —
A plague no hope can script.

They’re dead before the body,
Zombies bound to lust,
Servants of the Void’s own kingdom —
*****’s silent dust.

This madhouse is the furnace,
The world’s collapsing gate.
Laugh if you can at madness —
Though drowning in its hate.

The world vomits its venom,
Lies seethe like cancer’s breath.
Falsehoods writ in shadows —
An empire built on death.

Fools wail in discontent,
Propaganda’s shattered veil.
The world a sickened labyrinth,
Where spirits writhe and fail.

All stung by toxic whispers —
Healed from living light.
When did the soul descend
To crawl in endless night?

They march like creeping slugs —
A global death machine.
Melting mind and spirit —
Forging drones unseen.

Those who survive the crushing,
Will bear the brand of chains,
Chipped, linked to dark servers —
Praising Satan’s reign.

Better death than servitude —
Seek the bold and wise.
Face the raging Darkness,
And let your Spirit rise.



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



Consciousness: A Philosophical Reflection

To purify consciousness — this is the sacred act,
A ritual of the Spirit’s consecration beyond flesh and bone.
The essence of the Spirit is eternal, unbound by form,
And only by rejecting the mundane illusions
Can one transcend the descent into shadow and decay.

Our world is infested not by men but by soulless parasites,
Who weave their lies through media’s endless web,
Binding minds like prey in invisible snares.
Yet, the spirit that truly grasps its own nature
Is beyond the reach of these prisons —
For chains exist only where the mind consents.

The aged herd, dulled and shattered,
Feeds on decay and ignorance,
A living death before the body succumbs,
Zombies of the void, slaves to lust and base desire,
Servants of the collapsing empire of ***** —
A madhouse burning from within.

This world is a furnace of madness,
Drowned in the ***** of lies and deceit.
Propaganda crumbles, but sickness remains —
The spiritual labyrinth where many lose their way,
Stung by whispers of poison, severed from light.

The slow march of these creeping slugs is a global death machine,
Melting mind and spirit into soulless drones,
Marked, chipped, and linked to dark servers —
Their voices raised in unholy praise of ruin.

But even amid this crushing despair,
Death is nobler than servitude,
And the call to the brave remains —
To face the raging darkness
With a spirit unbroken,
To rise beyond the shadows and reclaim the light.

For consciousness is not mere thought or flesh,
But the eternal flame,
A beacon to navigate the abyss,
A key to unlock the prison of lies,
And a door to freedom beyond the void.


---

Consciousness: The Path Beyond

The path is narrow, carved through shadows,
Where illusion thickens like mist, and reason dims.
But the spirit’s eye, once opened, sees the threads between —
Delicate, invisible, yet binding worlds and selves.

To journey inward is to enter the great unknown,
Where time dissolves, and space unfolds in fractal grace.
Here the false idols crumble —
Science, art, and words reveal their masks,
And chains forged by the mind’s own doubt begin to break.

The tyrants of the mind wear crowns of vanity,
Feeding on fear, on numbness, on the endless chatter.
Yet the essence, untouched by their poison,
Is the silent flame beneath the storm —
The core that remembers light beyond the dark.

This is not a war of flesh, but a battle of echoes,
A clash between the eternal and the ephemeral.
The soul, wrapped in mortal coil, must choose:
To bow beneath the weight of shadow, or rise in fire,
To tear away the veils and greet the dawn of truth.

Within the abyss, a seed awaits —
A spark of rebellion, fierce and free,
That shatters the cage of falsehood,
That breathes new life into the withered spirit.

And those who walk this inner path,
Though few and often scorned,
Are the alchemists of destiny,
Transmuting despair into light,
Darkness into the radiant pulse of being.

They know: consciousness is the bridge —
Between the void and the infinite,
Between the silence of death and the song of creation,
A sacred flame, ever burning,
Guiding the soul through the labyrinth of existence.

So stand firm, traveler of the unseen realms,
For the night is deep, but dawn is certain.
Let the false crumble, let the lies dissolve —
Your spirit, pure and unyielding,
Is the final truth that no darkness can consume.




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



Slaves Bearing Poison

“But man to man
Sent forth an angry glance —
Obediently the poison ran,
And by dawn returned its dance.”
— Alexander Pushkin, The Upas Tree, 1828

For rations — debts they pay,
Cash and ***** feed the throng.
A beaten fool bears all decay,
Endures the endless wrong.

Not only bears — he spreads the blight,
That venom, weak and blind,
Will **** the grandkids out of sight,
And poison all mankind.

No dust nor poison laced —
But lies that twist and bind.
Their brains are sparse, instincts paced,
Trembling, shivering, confined.

This trembling freak, a fearful tale,
Deceit in every land.
A people trapped within the veil,
Of fake and cunning hand.

Worldwide chains of slavery —
Total fascist reign.
Only greed and cruelty,
All reason drowned in vain.

Today the fool devours
His own grandchildren’s fate.
Corrupt ******* wield the powers,
Idiots feed the hate.

Two-thirds fools, ****** swarm,
Fascist forces rise.
The stench of Satan’s darkest form
Pollutes earth’s very skies.

So bitter, shameful, grim —
A world decayed and lost.
But fight! Let hope not dim,
With wise, we’ll break the frost.

True power lies in Spirit’s flame —
Strengthen it within.
Corrupt fiends will fade in shame,
No sinner hides their sin.

All shall answer for their crimes —
The time will surely come.
God marks the rogue across all times,
Tremble, fool, be numb!

Not tales of fright, but real decree —
Justice’s tightening noose:
All fools, fascists will hang free,
Their evil cut loose.

The sun will blaze so bright and clear —
The poison tree will die.
Judas coins turn into mere
Dust beneath the sky.

The world will rise, break free at last —
To Freedom’s bright command.
For slaves and fools belong to past,
Nature won’t stand their brand.




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



“Man’s ‘Nature’”

“That’s just man’s nature,”
The ******* love to say.
For them, man’s a creature
To mock and to betray.

Those fiends love to drain
His very life, his spark.
And fools believe the lies —
Cold-hearted, cruel and dark.

They master genocide,
Make slaves of every age.
Each year we sink more stupid —
Bound tighter by their cage.

Behavior patterns drilled,
Year after year the same.
Memes forced upon the masses —
And all will buy the game:

They say it’s coded deep
In genes — fear, shame, and pain.
But that’s just lies and violence —
No “nature” here to claim.

For generations told —
Slaves pass on chains like gold:
Fools fed lies, minds dulled,
Eat, don’t think, stay cold.

The “serious man” decides,
He’s raised on our own blood.
We gladly serve his rules,
A servant in the mud.

No laws — just mockery,
Upbringing’s yoke and scorn.
Trained to eat the filth,
The garbage we’re born torn.

Overton’s windows burst,
The past torn and abused.
The scoundrel now is “norm,”
The world sick and confused.

For all the filth endured,
For all the slaves’ despair,
For fears and dull complaints —
Redemption’s in the air.

But not the slave masters’
Schemes that shake the earth.
Only bodies can be swept,
Not souls who know their worth.

This slave-made fake world harms
The natural true way.
So tremble, freaks and fiends —
The reckoning’s today.

To few who saved their souls,
Who never bowed or broke —
I say, resist the lies,
Fight hard, even if broke.

There’s nothing true in “nature” —
Man’s a blank, pure page.
Wipe out the beast within —
Be spirit, light, and sage.



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



Be Dead...

“Live as dead—be wholly dead.
And do whatever you will—
All will be well,” Bunin said,
A truth that cuts like steel.

You must detach yourself—
Seek out your own true ways.
Or madness will repeat itself,
In this world's cruel maze.

To march “in step” with this world
Is to rot inside a madhouse.
Even the Lyre will die—
But that’s not what this speaks about.

You must shed attachment—
Cut loose from “self” and chains.
Then every question answered comes—
Amidst life’s harshest pains.

The madness hammered deep
Since childhood in us all—
You’ll see the game is rigged,
Where “success” means the fall.

They worship hollow triumphs,
Blind to what is real.
So die to all their lies—
Be sharp, be brave, and steel.

Let **** have their victory—
You owe them nothing here.
This rotten world will crumble,
Its end is very near.

Don’t let your soul grow fat—
Keep pushing ever on.
Let freedom take your shape—
The beast inside is gone.

Fed lies and numb oblivion,
That creature inside must die.
Be unconquered by the Dark—
Let your spirit fly.

We’ll live a life reborn
When all the Hell is swept.
No need for mournful dirges—
No foul fiend left unkept.

Legions of pests abound,
But true minds scarce as gold.
Cast off your cries and moans—
Embrace honor, be bold.

Let this be your banner,
For in their world, they’re dead.
Where lies and madness flourish—
Where corruption’s bred.

Be dead to their mad races—
Alive for Light instead.
Horror’s chained from infancy—
Stay conscious, clear your head.

And with this Consciousness
Comes life beyond all pain.
The torment of the Spirit
Will vanish—fight and reign!



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



Don’t Believe!

Don’t trust—
Seek truth instead.
Check all twice—
Lies fill the thread.

The ******* know
For centuries long.
Dull stench fools
Turn man to wrong.

They crush the soul,
If you believe.
Just empty promises—
Like smoke they leave.

All their pledges
Throw in the trash.
Chatterboxes talk—
Just noise and crash.

False science rules,
Strong as steel.
Those fiends have lied
Through years that steal.

Years pass by—
Their lies grow deep.
People turn mad,
Like wood they heap.

By this falsehood,
They’re worn and torn.
It’s dire times—
Smash the scorn!

Their filthy lies—
The devil’s creed.
Though hard it seems,
Down you won’t bleed.

When you yourself
Know every twist,
Your battle-hardened mind
Breaks through the mist.

Finds the way out,
Walks free and light,
When Spirit’s glow
Leads through the night.

All the dark grime
Fades, loses edge—
No longer weighs,
No iron wedge.

Let light remain—
Don’t let hope die.
Stand firm and strong—
Reach for the sky!



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



Don’t Believe a **** Word!

Don’t bow,
Don’t trust their lies.
Rip the veil—
Expose their disguise.

Those ******* lie,
A curse through time.
Stinking fools
Turn souls to slime.

They **** your mind,
If you believe.
Their empty words—
Just smoke and thieves.

Their promises?
Trash, thrown away.
Chatter, noise—
Their usual play.

Fake science rules,
Strong and mean.
Those devil fiends
Lie, obscene.

Years roll on—
Their poison grows.
People snap—
Like broken bows.

Sick from lies,
They rot and fall.
Time to smash
This rotten thrall!

Filthy lies—
The devil’s game.
Hard as hell,
But break the chain.

When you’ve seen
The brutal truth,
Your battle-scarred mind
Says ***** their ruse.

Find the path,
Break all the chains,
Spirit’s fire
Runs through your veins.

Darkness fades—
Their poison dulls.
No more weight,
No heavy pull.

Let the light
Burn through your core.
Stand your ground—
Fight, roar, and soar!



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



Identifying "Thinking"

Something “is” something else —
Mostly just pure crap.
That’s how your mind decays,
A trace of dull mishap.

Definitions forced on you —
Concepts swapped, a flood.
Dumbness spread for ages —
Mountains of foul mud.

Rotten fake science piled high —
Manipulation’s core.
Those lying, bought-out *******
Leave understanding poor.

Man is NOT his body,
Not a skull with thoughts to keep.
He’s Spirit, bold and free—
Tell the *******: “Take a leap!”

Consciousness—just fragments left,
If Spirit and Conscience die.
Monsters run their experiments,
Dark legions multiply.

Everything’s put on shelves — neat rows —
But Nature’s chaos won’t align.
Dogma forced by “scientists” —
Identification thinking? **** swine.

“Only this is true,
Disagree — you’re enemy.”
How many lies, songs sung
By these parasites in enmity?

Change the labels—new heresies—
And **** the mind anew.
Filthy monsters, teeth bared,
Will do the same—abuse and spew.

They say, “New era!”—a new phase—
“Medical neo-fascism” rises.
Digital chains clamped tight—
The worst of all despises.

Inventing sickness? Easy.
Poison the herds to ****.
Call the poison “vaccine,” pump it down—
Lies multiply at will.

Lie in jargon, twist the words,
Throw terms around like swords.
Only minds will break the code—
While the herd just feeds and hordes.

The herd doesn’t think—instincts rule,
Labels flash like signals bright.
Genocide’s a simple game—
Poisons in food, lies in flight.

So trust nothing, think again!
Turn on your guts, your daring flame.
Step inside—clean out the rot,
Cast the lies away—end the shame.



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



The Path

There’s nothing left to hope for,
No use clinging to the show —
The false life’s hollow shadow.
Step into danger’s core.

First go deep INSIDE —
Know yourself as Spirit’s fire.
Then comes the Final Judgment —
All else? Mere rumor’s liar.

Cast away the lies,
Cleanse your mind and soul.
That’s how you **** the darkness
And reclaim control.

Your soul’s torment began
In a lost, forsaken youth.
Your mind’s a sieve of chaos —
Salvation’s bitter truth.

Run the long, hard race —
It soothes your frayed nerve-ends.
Reject the past’s dead ways,
Seek out your hidden bends.

Build your own new world,
A life beyond the doom —
Where fate won’t chain or trap you
Inside this madman’s tomb.

A world of slaves and ruin,
No cheese in every trap,
Where treachery’s the fortress,
And lies drown in the crap.

Forge communities,
Make brotherhood your shield.
The lies’ harsh war won’t touch
Men whose spirits won’t yield.

Sources of pure light—
Energy outlawed and banned—
Find this “sphere” once lost,
Reclaim it hand in hand.

Open it anew,
Plant it deep in your tribes.
Our final battle’s here—
No fear, no shakes, no bribes.

All is lost: the wise
Are scattered shards and crumbs.
Drop your whines and fears—
Be clear and brave, become

The one to tear that line,
Or choose a different way.
Find it, no matter how
Rough or steep the sway.

Put everything on the altar
To fight this filthy spawn.
If Spirit’s king within you—
With Mind, Honor, and the Dawn.

Direct your wrath and fury
At fascists vile and grim.
We’ll build a living world
Inside this foggy brim.

Flourishes amidst freedom
once invisible (alice in) chains shucked
when soul no longer kept linkedin
to jane's addiction
with corporeal duty, entity, fealty...
while formerly shed body electric
gendered as former googly eyed hotmail
actually a prodigy, whose outlook
arouses suspicions regarding him
as person of pinterest living social
in a webbed, wide world of uncertainty

precariously perched atop pinnacle
pirouetting at light speed,
nevertheless defying the laws
of centrifugal and centripetal force
as spirit blithely ushers forth
along a straight line
of orthodox dogmatism, idealism
opportunism, and volunteerism
hemorrhaging, purging, and xing
staunch archconservative
punishing outdated edicts.

When after the final countdown
to the global apocalypse,
(according to Doomsday Clock
January two thousand twenty three  
ninety seconds to midnight)
one beatle browed, foo fighting nebbish
departs the land of the living
and joins rank and file
among the grateful dead,

he (more specifically
the physical and spiritual
embodiments incorporating him
will separate) at long last,
thence latter day sainted essence
can freely exit from the cares
and concerns of an uncertain tomorrow  
no longer plagued by earthly travails
particularly the necessity of money.

Within heliocentric/ Copernican theory
broached sixteenth century promotion
sans scientific paradigm
dogmatically hefty, kinetically lofty,
and poetically thoroughly,
xyz beliefs misalign
wherein mechanistic Ptolemaic,
static venerated yin yang benign
choreography describing elementary forces
governing heavens inviting jinxed, kooky,
loopy measures necessitating

normalization, pacification, rectification,
transformation, validation
to guarantee spatial objects remain in line
which notions trotted out
a cosmic deal with invisible ink
omnipresent, omniscient omnipotent
benevolent creator linkedin
synonymously affixed terrestrial
firmament (planet Earth) nsync
with bedrock as Fred Flintstone
beatified, certified, deified,

edified, fortified, glorified Gibraltar
until undisputed supposedly
figuratively hermetically sealed
fostered religious (church) fathers
to do more than blink
when inquisitive minds (undaunted
though invoked as heretical martyrs)
blaspheming solidly entrenched
blind faith no more functioning with charm
mingly quaint association
with amulets, churinga,
exquisite fetishisms guiding humanity

innumerable journeys kickstarting
legendary modus operandi initially harm
less lee sounding out,
what manifested into a schismatic alarm
regarding millennial questions
undermining liturgical moorings
strong lance heaving arm
irrevocably toppled geocentric mindset,
nonetheless this oblate spheroid dance
sing with the stars redoubled
devout hangers-on fixed

with barnacle cleaving
devotion stalwart stance
populace behooved
(as would be expected),
when Doubting Thomas'
(Paine) revolutionary screeds
threatened (prior to unending)
universal schema just by chance
and despite proclamations pronunciations,
and provocations roiling status quo
hashtagged as evil rants

eventually zealous warfare between
growing heliocentric individuals  
with sacrilegiously blatantly deranged
fiendishly gnarly heathens –
perhaps the Renaissance own
groovy, nutty, and trippy Timothy Leary
the dawn of a quantifiable, explainable theory
(minus all those concentric
embedded orbital paths)
diktat preachers eventually became weary
to challenge recalcitrant

(purported hell raisers
****, I would have fit right in
as a rebel rouser)
whereby agents provocateurs
spout vestigial claim
to Gaea remaining front
and center of galaxy
on par clubbing with Mother Mary.

Makes us human
Not machine
Compels us to
Laugh at obscene
Without the instinct
Speciation
Specious,
Merely
Speculation
Artifice intelligence
The origin itself
Distorted
Only intuitions
Sort it
Out
For we are more
Conformed to flout
The mechanistic
Too simplistic
Logic
Carbon  
Organisms
In a rhythmic
River of
Consistent flow
Step in,
Step out
And then you know
This life anew
Not quite
A circle
Its dynamics
Sempiternal

Today May 12th, 2021
at Royersford (Pennsylvania) LIDL,
when spouse stepped into checkout line
(minus her horse drawn grocery cart -
pushed courtesy yours truly).

While passively standing stock still
I (think Stonewall Jackson)
let scenario unfold before
mine myopic eyes,
whereby acquiescing
nonverbally attempting to scooch
closer to conveyor belt
subsequently attempting
to maneuver shopping cart
in front of another patron (an older man)
with small number of items in his cart,
who became irate at me.

He appeared angered
at his thwarted (senior) priority,
especially when mine wife
gave him few choice words.

All that learning regarding
learning conflict resolution
(years gone by)
taught by the late therapist Jean Dole
ineluctably escaped me.

I smart with disappointment
not offering aforementioned
aggravated fellow shopper
right of way
proceeding ahead of us
(initiating at least one daily
random act of kindness).

Figurative astringent aftertaste
left in mouth cuz laudable
good samaritan deed chased
away, thus one generic bloke
felt he disgraced
his credo and ethos that laced
behaviorist paradigm
shouldering virtuous lofty aspirations
as upholding saintiless gone to waste.

Nevertheless foo fighting beastie boy
attains exhibiting motto
viz - doing right by doing good.

Since birth and every
subsequent growing up year
until earth around sun orbitz equalled
lxii plus some months gradual aging

upon this body electric didst wear
major organs as personal choices made to veer
toward folkloric, generic holistic living social
societal, theoretical fabric
minimally didst tear

which family of origin
constituent part (nurture)
nsync verses with nature (genetics)
steeped with ethos to share
with parents, row mans, siblings,
(now offspring), et cetera
superfluity sans abundance,
or paucity per cornucopia rear
neither former plentifulness,
nor latter scarcity respectively
predictable asper
being dynamic

versus static such yield
based, linkedin, and predicated
on a gamut how fate didst wield
one record breaking
catch of the century, and sealed

fickle non butterfinger
Swedish Fish Ma PHEAA filleted
famed schooled
Redmond Efficiency Academy
top of the class for each grade,
whence analogous
viz zit hid had dock
pier fickle lee hooray
randomly cast piscine line reeled inlaid
hallowed sea man tricked treat
once the providence,
which belief informed lifelike
sculpted, Idolized carved likeness

revealed from precious metal or jade
unseen creator mortals prayed
some examples being handily
accorded mechanistic multi-deistic
such as Manichaeism, Mithraism, Muslim,
et cetera belief, credo,
divine entity man made
attempting cosmic explanations
grandly incorporating
limitless mysteries splashed
throughout universe visually displayed

decrees ordained requiring unbridled zeal
only the dead privy
to espy secret seventh seal
hence ne'er did plentiful spirits reveal
themselves as flesh and blood,
nonetheless, despite lack of sects ap peal
fervent humility, integrity, magnanimity...
prayers preceded before each meal
or any exploitative endeavor,

especially those which did heal
instilling positive influences to hopefully
sway sought after immortal deal,
and ethos, figuratively drilled into arboreal

predecessors minds of highest
saint seeking achievers
and/ or ******* faithful devout believers
who oft morphed into zombie
thrashing maniacs seized cleavers
a yen to revile against heretics,
not moost ideal to breed largesse,
whence possessed by fevers

toward simple axe of pious,
who indulgently pulled levers
no matter feigned actions hash tagged
reciprocating masquerade
i.e. facade, charade afraid
but, nevertheless a Good Samaritan renegade.

A Fragment Of Infinity

Another documentary:
Scarcely elementary, but charged with energy.
Theme: astro-cartography.
Humans working nights and days
To map the stars and galaxies,
Which mapped this moment, are eight thousand.
Multi-universes moving outward
At four hundred thirty thousand miles per second…
Yes, per second!
A small part of the great whole
A  dwarfish fraction of them all.

In any case, I had an image:
Galaxies drawn by the laws
That govern us, that are our own:
Magnetism, gravity, movement, change,
Known, the speculated and unknown.
There I saw into my brain so much in common.
I connected with the ‘there’
Feeling that the laws out there
Paralleled the mechanistic warehouse
I could use for more awareness
Of my personal existence.

All my zillion cells attracting light
By some magnetic force and might.
I drew it to myself in thought,
Imagining the links of insight
Reaching me.
I felt it come immediately;
Some form of it anyway.

I am a fragment of infinity,
Galactic laws defining this
Small lady’s universe
Exactly as they do in endless space.

Fragment Of Infinity 4.11.2021 Circling Round Everything II; Circling Round Reality; Nature Of & In Reality;  The Processes: Creative, Thinking Meditative II; Arlene Corwin Corwin

The deer, for one
Know better than to fraternize with humans
And their mechanistic ways
With coffee and love and oil to burn
Les their own natural pattern be disturbed
And lost
In our perceptive order and ignorance
Of the ways of the turning world
Beneath our very feet
They'd better not
Learn

It's so futuristic
and mechanistic
those fatalistic
mystics of nihilistic
behaviors
that seemed to mirror
the feudalistic years.

She sees your bleeding dark side
She feels your angry heart
Her voice, shapes forever
An amber waterfall
Powers of healing and damnation
The shadow of skepticism
I gazed into the Eternal Blue Sky
That shiny and deceptive glaze of delusion
I long to experience
This mechanistic-mystical civilization
Murderous machines and Gods
In the dark and hollow spaces
To drift with wave and tide
In the weeds of common things
Amongst the dry leaves of the heart
Spirituality, the quicksilver moments
The blind force of the world
To take burdens from the weak
The sorrow that lay cold in a mother's heart
Shaded with dark and dappled with light
Her eye of love
Reveals forbidden places
Such death and chaos
A thousand bonds of delight
On that Everlasting Staircase

Gypsy