ENDYMION.

A Poetic Romance.

"THE STRETCHED METRE OF AN AN ANTIQUE SONG."
INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS CHATTERTON.

Book I

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.

  Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast,
That, whether there be shine, or gloom o'ercast,
They alway must be with us, or we die.

  Therefore, 'tis with full happiness that I
Will trace the story of Endymion.
The very music of the name has gone
Into my being, and each pleasant scene
Is growing fresh before me as the green
Of our own vallies: so I will begin
Now while I cannot hear the city's din;
Now while the early budders are just new,
And run in mazes of the youngest hue
About old forests; while the willow trails
Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails
Bring home increase of milk. And, as the year
Grows lush in juicy stalks, I'll smoothly steer
My little boat, for many quiet hours,
With streams that deepen freshly into bowers.
Many and many a verse I hope to write,
Before the daisies, vermeil rimm'd and white,
Hide in deep herbage; and ere yet the bees
Hum about globes of clover and sweet peas,
I must be near the middle of my story.
O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finished: but let Autumn bold,
With universal tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end.
And now at once, adventuresome, I send
My herald thought into a wilderness:
There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress
My uncertain path with green, that I may speed
Easily onward, thorough flowers and ****.

  Upon the sides of Latmos was outspread
A mighty forest; for the moist earth fed
So plenteously all ****-hidden roots
Into o'er-hanging boughs, and precious fruits.
And it had gloomy shades, sequestered deep,
Where no man went; and if from shepherd's keep
A lamb strayed far a-down those inmost glens,
Never again saw he the happy pens
Whither his brethren, bleating with content,
Over the hills at every nightfall went.
Among the shepherds, 'twas believed ever,
That not one fleecy lamb which thus did sever
From the white flock, but pass'd unworried
By angry wolf, or pard with prying head,
Until it came to some unfooted plains
Where fed the herds of Pan: ay great his gains
Who thus one lamb did lose. Paths there were many,
Winding through palmy fern, and rushes fenny,
And ivy banks; all leading pleasantly
To a wide lawn, whence one could only see
Stems thronging all around between the swell
Of turf and slanting branches: who could tell
The freshness of the space of heaven above,
Edg'd round with dark tree tops? through which a dove
Would often beat its wings, and often too
A little cloud would move across the blue.

  Full in the middle of this pleasantness
There stood a marble altar, with a tress
Of flowers budded newly; and the dew
Had taken fairy phantasies to strew
Daisies upon the sacred sward last eve,
And so the dawned light in pomp receive.
For 'twas the morn: Apollo's upward fire
Made every eastern cloud a silvery pyre
Of brightness so unsullied, that therein
A melancholy spirit well might win
Oblivion, and melt out his essence fine
Into the winds: rain-scented eglantine
Gave temperate sweets to that well-wooing sun;
The lark was lost in him; cold springs had run
To warm their chilliest bubbles in the grass;
Man's voice was on the mountains; and the mass
Of nature's lives and wonders puls'd tenfold,
To feel this sun-rise and its glories old.

  Now while the silent workings of the dawn
Were busiest, into that self-same lawn
All suddenly, with joyful cries, there sped
A troop of little children garlanded;
Who gathering round the altar, seemed to pry
Earnestly round as wishing to espy
Some folk of holiday: nor had they waited
For many moments, ere their ears were sated
With a faint breath of music, which ev'n then
Fill'd out its voice, and died away again.
Within a little space again it gave
Its airy swellings, with a gentle wave,
To light-hung leaves, in smoothest echoes breaking
Through copse-clad vallies,--ere their death, oer-taking
The surgy murmurs of the lonely sea.

  And now, as deep into the wood as we
Might mark a lynx's eye, there glimmered light
Fair faces and a rush of garments white,
Plainer and plainer shewing, till at last
Into the widest alley they all past,
Making directly for the woodland altar.
O kindly muse! let not my weak tongue faulter
In telling of this goodly company,
Of their old piety, and of their glee:
But let a portion of ethereal dew
Fall on my head, and presently unmew
My soul; that I may dare, in wayfaring,
To stammer where old Chaucer used to sing.

  Leading the way, young damsels danced along,
Bearing the burden of a shepherd song;
Each having a white wicker over brimm'd
With April's tender younglings: next, well trimm'd,
A crowd of shepherds with as sunburnt looks
As may be read of in Arcadian books;
Such as sat listening round Apollo's pipe,
When the great deity, for earth too ripe,
Let his divinity o'er-flowing die
In music, through the vales of Thessaly:
Some idly trailed their sheep-hooks on the ground,
And some kept up a shrilly mellow sound
With ebon-tipped flutes: close after these,
Now coming from beneath the forest trees,
A venerable priest full soberly,
Begirt with ministring looks: alway his eye
Stedfast upon the matted turf he kept,
And after him his sacred vestments swept.
From his right hand there swung a vase, milk-white,
Of mingled wine, out-sparkling generous light;
And in his left he held a basket full
Of all sweet herbs that searching eye could cull:
Wild thyme, and valley-lilies whiter still
Than Leda's love, and cresses from the rill.
His aged head, crowned with beechen wreath,
Seem'd like a poll of ivy in the teeth
Of winter ****. Then came another crowd
Of shepherds, lifting in due time aloud
Their share of the ditty. After them appear'd,
Up-followed by a multitude that rear'd
Their voices to the clouds, a fair wrought car,
Easily rolling so as scarce to mar
The freedom of three steeds of dapple brown:
Who stood therein did seem of great renown
Among the throng. His youth was fully blown,
Shewing like Ganymede to manhood grown;
And, for those simple times, his garments were
A chieftain king's: beneath his breast, half bare,
Was hung a silver bugle, and between
His nervy knees there lay a boar-spear keen.
A smile was on his countenance; he seem'd,
To common lookers on, like one who dream'd
Of idleness in groves Elysian:
But there were some who feelingly could scan
A lurking trouble in his nether lip,
And see that oftentimes the reins would slip
Through his forgotten hands: then would they sigh,
And think of yellow leaves, of owlets cry,
Of logs piled solemnly.--Ah, well-a-day,
Why should our young Endymion pine away!

  Soon the assembly, in a circle rang'd,
Stood silent round the shrine: each look was chang'd
To sudden veneration: women meek
Beckon'd their sons to silence; while each cheek
Of ****** bloom paled gently for slight fear.
Endymion too, without a forest peer,
Stood, wan, and pale, and with an awed face,
Among his brothers of the mountain chase.
In midst of all, the venerable priest
Eyed them with joy from greatest to the least,
And, after lifting up his aged hands,
Thus spake he: "Men of Latmos! shepherd bands!
Whose care it is to guard a thousand flocks:
Whether descended from beneath the rocks
That overtop your mountains; whether come
From vallies where the pipe is never dumb;
Or from your swelling downs, where sweet air stirs
Blue hare-bells lightly, and where prickly furze
Buds lavish gold; or ye, whose precious charge
Nibble their fill at ocean's very marge,
Whose mellow reeds are touch'd with sounds forlorn
By the dim echoes of old Triton's horn:
Mothers and wives! who day by day prepare
The scrip, with needments, for the mountain air;
And all ye gentle girls who foster up
Udderless lambs, and in a little cup
Will put choice honey for a favoured youth:
Yea, every one attend! for in good truth
Our vows are wanting to our great god Pan.
Are not our lowing heifers sleeker than
Night-swollen mushrooms? Are not our wide plains
Speckled with countless fleeces? Have not rains
Green'd over April's lap? No howling sad
Sickens our fearful ewes; and we have had
Great bounty from Endymion our lord.
The earth is glad: the merry lark has pour'd
His early song against yon breezy sky,
That spreads so clear o'er our solemnity."

  Thus ending, on the shrine he heap'd a spire
Of teeming sweets, enkindling sacred fire;
Anon he stain'd the thick and spongy sod
With wine, in honour of the shepherd-god.
Now while the earth was drinking it, and while
Bay leaves were crackling in the fragrant pile,
And gummy frankincense was sparkling bright
'Neath smothering parsley, and a hazy light
Spread greyly eastward, thus a chorus sang:

  "O THOU, whose mighty palace roof doth hang
From jagged trunks, and overshadoweth
Eternal whispers, glooms, the birth, life, death
Of unseen flowers in heavy peacefulness;
Who lov'st to see the hamadryads dress
Their ruffled locks where meeting hazels darken;
And through whole solemn hours dost sit, and hearken
The dreary melody of bedded reeds--
In desolate places, where dank moisture breeds
The pipy hemlock to strange overgrowth;
Bethinking thee, how melancholy loth
Thou wast to lose fair Syrinx--do thou now,
By thy love's milky brow!
By all the trembling mazes that she ran,
Hear us, great Pan!

  "O thou, for whose soul-soothing quiet, turtles
Passion their voices cooingly '**** myrtles,
What time thou wanderest at eventide
Through sunny meadows, that outskirt the side
Of thine enmossed realms: O thou, to whom
Broad leaved fig trees even now foredoom
Their ripen'd fruitage; yellow girted bees
Their golden honeycombs; our village leas
Their fairest-blossom'd beans and poppied corn;
The chuckling linnet its five young unborn,
To sing for thee; low creeping strawberries
Their summer coolness; pent up butterflies
Their freckled wings; yea, the fresh budding year
All its completions--be quickly near,
By every wind that nods the mountain pine,
O forester divine!

  "Thou, to whom every fawn and satyr flies
For willing service; whether to surprise
The squatted hare while in half sleeping fit;
Or upward ragged precipices flit
To save poor lambkins from the eagle's maw;
Or by mysterious enticement draw
Bewildered shepherds to their path again;
Or to tread breathless round the frothy main,
And gather up all fancifullest shells
For thee to tumble into Naiads' cells,
And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping;
Or to delight thee with fantastic leaping,
The while they pelt each other on the crown
With silvery oak apples, and fir cones brown--
By all the echoes that about thee ring,
Hear us, O satyr king!

  "O Hearkener to the loud clapping shears,
While ever and anon to his shorn peers
A ram goes bleating: Winder of the horn,
When snouted wild-boars routing tender corn
Anger our huntsman: Breather round our farms,
To keep off mildews, and all weather harms:
Strange ministrant of undescribed sounds,
That come a swooning over hollow grounds,
And wither drearily on barren moors:
Dread opener of the mysterious doors
Leading to universal knowledge--see,
Great son of Dryope,
The many that are come to pay their vows
With leaves about their brows!

  Be still the unimaginable lodge
For solitary thinkings; such as dodge
Conception to the very bourne of heaven,
Then leave the naked brain: be still the leaven,
That spreading in this dull and clodded earth
Gives it a touch ethereal--a new birth:
Be still a symbol of immensity;
A firmament reflected in a sea;
An element filling the space between;
An unknown--but no more: we humbly screen
With uplift hands our foreheads, lowly bending,
And giving out a shout most heaven rending,
Conjure thee to receive our humble Paean,
Upon thy Mount Lycean!

  Even while they brought the burden to a close,
A shout from the whole multitude arose,
That lingered in the air like dying rolls
Of abrupt thunder, when Ionian shoals
Of dolphins bob their noses through the brine.
Meantime, on shady levels, mossy fine,
Young companies nimbly began dancing
To the swift treble pipe, and humming string.
Aye, those fair living forms swam heavenly
To tunes forgotten--out of memory:
Fair creatures! whose young children's children bred
Thermopylæ its heroes--not yet dead,
But in old marbles ever beautiful.
High genitors, unconscious did they cull
Time's sweet first-fruits--they danc'd to weariness,
And then in quiet circles did they press
The hillock turf, and caught the latter end
Of some strange history, potent to send
A young mind from its ****** tenement.
Or they might watch the quoit-pitchers, intent
On either side; pitying the sad death
Of Hyacinthus, when the cruel breath
Of Zephyr slew him,--Zephyr penitent,
Who now, ere Phoebus mounts the firmament,
Fondles the flower amid the sobbing rain.
The archers too, upon a wider plain,
Beside the feathery whizzing of the shaft,
And the dull twanging bowstring, and the raft
Branch down sweeping from a tall ash top,
Call'd up a thousand thoughts to envelope
Those who would watch. Perhaps, the trembling knee
And frantic gape of lonely Niobe,
Poor, lonely Niobe! when her lovely young
Were dead and gone, and her caressing tongue
Lay a lost thing upon her paly lip,
And very, very deadliness did nip
Her motherly cheeks. Arous'd from this sad mood
By one, who at a distance loud halloo'd,
Uplifting his strong bow into the air,
Many might after brighter visions stare:
After the Argonauts, in blind amaze
Tossing about on Neptune's restless ways,
Until, from the horizon's vaulted side,
There shot a golden splendour far and wide,
Spangling those million poutings of the brine
With quivering ore: 'twas even an awful shine
From the exaltation of Apollo's bow;
A heavenly beacon in their dreary woe.
Who thus were ripe for high contemplating,
Might turn their steps towards the sober ring
Where sat Endymion and the aged priest
'**** shepherds gone in eld, whose looks increas'd
The silvery setting of their mortal star.
There they discours'd upon the fragile bar
That keeps us from our homes ethereal;
And what our duties there: to nightly call
Vesper, the beauty-crest of summer weather;
To summon all the downiest clouds together
For the sun's purple couch; to emulate
In ministring the potent rule of fate
With speed of fire-tailed exhalations;
To tint her pallid cheek with bloom, who cons
Sweet poesy by moonlight: besides these,
A world of other unguess'd offices.
Anon they wander'd, by divine converse,
Into Elysium; vieing to rehearse
Each one his own anticipated bliss.
One felt heart-certain that he could not miss
His quick gone love, among fair blossom'd boughs,
Where every zephyr-sigh pouts and endows
Her lips with music for the welcoming.
Another wish'd, mid that eternal spring,
To meet his rosy child, with feathery sails,
Sweeping, eye-earnestly, through almond vales:
Who, suddenly, should stoop through the smooth wind,
And with the balmiest leaves his temples bind;
And, ever after, through those regions be
His messenger, his little

The black bull bellowed before the sea.
The sea, till that day orderly,
Hove up against Bendylaw.

The queen in the mulberry arbor stared
Stiff as a queen on a playing card.
The king fingered his beard.

A blue sea, four ***** bull-feet,
A bull-snouted sea that wouldn't stay put,
Bucked at the garden gate.

Along box-lined walks in the florid sun
Toward the rowdy bellow and back again
The lords and ladies ran.

The great bronze gate began to crack,
The sea broke in at every crack,
Pellmell, blueblack.

The bull surged up, the bull surged down,
Not to be stayed by a daisy chain
Nor by any learned man.

O the king's tidy acre is under the sea,
And the royal rose in the bull's belly,
And the bull on the king's highway.

The bows glided down, and the coast
Blackened with birds took a last look
At his thrashing hair and whale-blue eye;
The trodden town rang its cobbles for luck.

Then good-bye to the fishermanned
Boat with its anchor free and fast
As a bird hooking over the sea,
High and dry by the top of the mast,

Whispered the affectionate sand
And the bulwarks of the dazzled quay.
For my sake sail, and never look back,
Said the looking land.

Sails drank the wind, and white as milk
He sped into the drinking dark;
The sun shipwrecked west on a pearl
And the moon swam out of its hulk.

Funnels and masts went by in a whirl.
Good-bye to the man on the sea-legged deck
To the gold gut that sings on his reel
To the bait that stalked out of the sack,

For we saw him throw to the swift flood
A girl alive with his hooks through her lips;
All the fishes were rayed in blood,
Said the dwindling ships.

Good-bye to chimneys and funnels,
Old wives that spin in the smoke,
He was blind to the eyes of candles
In the praying windows of waves

But heard his bait buck in the wake
And tussle in a shoal of loves.
Now cast down your rod, for the whole
Of the sea is hilly with whales,

She longs among horses and angels,
The rainbow-fish bend in her joys,
Floated the lost cathedral
Chimes of the rocked buoys.

Where the anchor rode like a gull
Miles over the moonstruck boat
A squall of birds bellowed and fell,
A cloud blew the rain from its throat;

He saw the storm smoke out to ****
With fuming bows and ram of ice,
Fire on starlight, rake Jesu's stream;
And nothing shone on the water's face

But the oil and bubble of the moon,
Plunging and piercing in his course
The lured fish under the foam
Witnessed with a kiss.

Whales in the wake like capes and Alps
Quaked the sick sea and snouted deep,
Deep the great bushed bait with raining lips
Slipped the fins of those humpbacked tons

And fled their love in a weaving dip.
Oh, Jericho was falling in their lungs!
She nipped and dived in the nick of love,
Spun on a spout like a long-legged ball

Till every beast blared down in a swerve
Till every turtle crushed from his shell
Till every bone in the rushing grave
Rose and crowed and fell!

Good luck to the hand on the rod,
There is thunder under its thumbs;
Gold gut is a lightning thread,
His fiery reel sings off its flames,

The whirled boat in the burn of his blood
Is crying from nets to knives,
Oh the shearwater birds and their boatsized brood
Oh the bulls of Biscay and their calves

Are making under the green, laid veil
The long-legged beautiful bait their wives.
Break the black news and paint on a sail
Huge weddings in the waves,

Over the wakeward-flashing spray
Over the gardens of the floor
Clash out the mounting dolphin's day,
My mast is a bell-spire,

Strike and smoothe, for my decks are drums,
Sing through the water-spoken prow
The octopus walking into her limbs
The polar eagle with his tread of snow.

From salt-lipped beak to the kick of the stern
Sing how the seal has kissed her dead!
The long, laid minute's bride drifts on
Old in her cruel bed.

Over the graveyard in the water
Mountains and galleries beneath
Nightingale and hyena
Rejoicing for that drifting death

Sing and howl through sand and anemone
Valley and sahara in a shell,
Oh all the wanting flesh his enemy
Thrown to the sea in the shell of a girl

Is old as water and plain as an eel;
Always good-bye to the long-legged bread
Scattered in the paths of his heels
For the salty birds fluttered and fed

And the tall grains foamed in their bills;
Always good-bye to the fires of the face,
For the crab-backed dead on the sea-bed rose
And scuttled over her eyes,

The blind, clawed stare is cold as sleet.
The tempter under the eyelid
Who shows to the selves asleep
Mast-high moon-white women naked

Walking in wishes and lovely for shame
Is dumb and gone with his flame of brides.
Susannah's drowned in the bearded stream
And no-one stirs at Sheba's side

But the hungry kings of the tides;
Sin who had a woman's shape
Sleeps till Silence blows on a cloud
And all the lifted waters walk and leap.

Lucifer that bird's dropping
Out of the sides of the north
Has melted away and is lost
Is always lost in her vaulted breath,

Venus lies star-struck in her wound
And the sensual ruins make
Seasons over the liquid world,
White springs in the dark.

Always good-bye, cried the voices through the shell,
Good-bye always, for the flesh is cast
And the fisherman winds his reel
With no more desire than a ghost.

Always good luck, praised the finned in the feather
Bird after dark and the laughing fish
As the sails drank up the hail of thunder
And the long-tailed lightning lit his catch.

The boat swims into the six-year weather,
A wind throws a shadow and it freezes fast.
See what the gold gut drags from under
Mountains and galleries to the crest!

See what clings to hair and skull
As the boat skims on with drinking wings!
The statues of great rain stand still,
And the flakes fall like hills.

Sing and strike his heavy haul
Toppling up the boatside in a snow of light!
His decks are drenched with miracles.
Oh miracle of fishes! The long dead bite!

Out of the urn a size of a man
Out of the room the weight of his trouble
Out of the house that holds a town
In the continent of a fossil

One by one in dust and shawl,
Dry as echoes and insect-faced,
His fathers cling to the hand of the girl
And the dead hand leads the past,

Leads them as children and as air
On to the blindly tossing tops;
The centuries throw back their hair
And the old men sing from newborn lips:

Time is bearing another son.
**** Time! She turns in her pain!
The oak is felled in the acorn
And the hawk in the egg kills the wren.

He who blew the great fire in
And died on a hiss of flames
Or walked the earth in the evening
Counting the denials of the grains

Clings to her drifting hair, and climbs;
And he who taught their lips to sing
Weeps like the risen sun among
The liquid choirs of his tribes.

The rod bends low, divining land,
And through the sundered water crawls
A garden holding to her hand
With birds and animals

With men and women and waterfalls
Trees cool and dry in the whirlpool of ships
And stunned and still on the green, laid veil
Sand with legends in its ****** laps

And prophets loud on the burned dunes;
Insects and valleys hold her thighs hard,
Times and places grip her breast bone,
She is breaking with seasons and clouds;

Round her trailed wrist fresh water weaves,
with moving fish and rounded stones
Up and down the greater waves
A separate river breathes and runs;

Strike and sing his catch of fields
For the surge is sown with barley,
The cattle graze on the covered foam,
The hills have footed the waves away,

With wild sea fillies and soaking bridles
With salty colts and gales in their limbs
All the horses of his haul of miracles
Gallop through the arched, green farms,

Trot and gallop with gulls upon them
And thunderbolts in their manes.
O Rome and ***** To-morrow and London
The country tide is cobbled with towns

And steeples pierce the cloud on her shoulder
And the streets that the fisherman combed
When his long-legged flesh was a wind on fire
And his **** was a hunting flame

Coil from the thoroughfares of her hair
And terribly lead him home alive
Lead her prodigal home to his terror,
The furious ox-killing house of love.

Down, down, down, under the ground,
Under the floating villages,
Turns the moon-chained and water-wound
Metropolis of fishes,

There is nothing left of the sea but its sound,
Under the earth the loud sea walks,
In deathbeds of orchards the boat dies down
And the bait is drowned among hayricks,

Land, land, land, nothing remains
Of the pacing, famous sea but its speech,
And into its talkative seven tombs
The anchor dives through the floors of a church.

Good-bye, good luck, struck the sun and the moon,
To the fisherman lost on the land.
He stands alone in the door of his home,
With his long-legged heart in his hand.

Old prophets ride on balloons
with their noses above their beards
Poking into and stirring around  affairs
like my stunted grandfather
with his finger in a pine bush
stirring up the bird that nested there.

The moaning of the prophets became
The growling of a caged cheeseburger
Long snouted, glaring up at me
From its jail cell hole in the floor,
Which was the ventilation grate.

My grandfather hunted him
In full John Wayne regalia
Stalking among the mesas and plateau
Of 1970's afghan covered furniture sets
Which were the desert of his crust.

The bedentured coffee cup fell of the shelf
and broke and shattered, from that
The schnoz'd cheeseburger left,
Yes he retreated down the vent.
Which was the liberation of my dreams

Tobacco stuck to grandfather's boots
It was pungent and potent but
also diabetic and diabolic.
Some family thinks it killed him
Which was the excuse behind my punishment


The prophets balloon's
Their threads were cut
and they crashed into a pine bush
stirring up the bird that nested there.
Which was my grandfather's spirit.

It is Ragnarok in the heavens
as the long snouted giant wolf Fenrir
faces off against rust colored clouds.

The Midgard serpent
stretches its purple, orange, and grey
body across the sky,

while embers of Surtur’s raging flames
cascade like spiraling waves
during the last seconds of
this dying day.

O the *****-coated skin
Of the stain-snouted ******
Such Classy vermin
Rats & dogs
Die

How ugly,
How disgusting,
Filth,
Ugly vampires that only steal
And get covered in nasty fluids
Useless prostitutes
Walking around with ***-breath
Acting like the innocent queens
Rot in Hell
You filthy abusive ******* nasty *** skanks.

Identification “Thinking”

Bizarrely ranked pretenses,
The names of hollow things…
The herd in vile stenches,
Like sea-slugs, not with fins.

A heap of rotten drivel,
Fraud, lies, and petty gain—
It kills the soul’s arrival:
Hell has no need of pain.

False “science” and religion,
Their stinking, sham parade,
All forms of small derision,
A darkness tailor-made.

From tangled webs of trifles
The tightest chains are born,
And thus arise the mindless,
Forever cracked and torn.

Lies take the place of reason,
Of honor, truth, and will;
Their heirs inherit treason,
Just garbage fit to ****.

For Hell requires no better—
All rests on trash and fraud.
The fools are even gladder
When thought is almost gone.

So simple—like a dealing
Of poker cards, the lot;
The nonsense keeps on stealing,
And checkmates every thought.

The sages long have warned us—
But deaf remained the herd:
That names are not adornments,
But shackles, deed and word.



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




1.
Names are chains, not crowns —
They forge the fools as clowns.

2.
On garbage minds are fed,
The living soul is dead.

3.
False ranks, false gods, false schools —
All breeding broken fools.

4.
Hell needs no fire at all —
Just lies to make us fall.



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




Names are chains, not crowns —
They forge the fools as clowns.

Titles are just ropes,
Enslaving broken hopes.

---

On garbage minds are fed,
The living soul is dead.

Trash is their holy feast,
It kills the soul, at least.

---

False ranks, false gods, false schools —
All breeding broken fools.

Fake science, faith, and laws —
Just spawn of Hell’s applause.

---

Hell needs no fire at all —
Just lies to make us fall.

No pitchforks, flames, or screams —
Just lies to **** our dreams.



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




Names are chains, not crowns —
They forge the fools as clowns.
On garbage souls are slain,
Hell rules through lies, not flame.

---

False gods, false schools, false kings —
Their crown is rot that stings.
No fire, no pitchfork blade —
Just lies, and souls decayed.

---

Trash feeds the broken herd,
They choke on every word.
Names bind, deceive, enslave —
Hell laughs at what it gave.



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




1.
Hell needs no flame at all —
A single lie can fall.

2.
Names are the iron chain —
They breed the herd insane.

3.
Trash feeds the hollow head —
The soul is left for dead.

4.
False crowns, false gods, false rules —
The world is run by fools.



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




One lie is Hell complete —
It chains the mind, defeats.



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




Lies are Hell.



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




1. Chains are names.
2. Trash kills truth.
3. Hell is lies.
4. Crowns are cages.
5. Words are shackles.



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




Hell is lies.
Chains are names.
Trash kills truth.



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




Crowns are cages.
Words are shackles.
Fools call it freedom.



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




Lies forge the chains we wear,
Trash feeds minds stripped bare.
Crowns of rot, gods of sham,
Hell smiles — we bow, we cram.



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




Lies forge chains,
Trash kills brains.

---

Lies bind souls,
Trash devours minds.



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



Kremliad

The bunker louse,
And all the Kremliad crew,
Never touch that spouse —
This wh#re brings through

Its “glue” to all,
“Knowledge” and so-called “light,”
It leads straight on,
Through seas of blight.

Straight into… Hell.
That “light” — pitch black,
“Knowledge” — lies as well,
It spends cash to stack

All lies on top —
Goebbels sets the tone.
Multiply this fraud,
And you need no more than one:

To **** the others,
Those against its lies,
To jail still others,
As its bullsh#t flies.

Delusions they create,
And in them many drown.
And lies will devastate —
Killing souls all ’round.

For fascism stands on lies,
Death is the trace.
To serve the filth — BELIEVE!
The light,

The real light there
Cuts like a blazing sword:
Truth kills the vermin
With truth, strike hard!

Do not touch the Kremliad —
Illuminate with TRUTH:
This wh#re will rot
Like a vampire. Shine! Shine!!!



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




Kremliad burns in lies,
Truth strikes, the wh#re dies.
Light cuts through the blight,
Expose, and fight, ignite!



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




Truth burns the Kremliad,
Lies die in the light.



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




1. Lies feed the Kremliad,
Truth strikes — the **** is dead.

2. Kremliad thrives on lies,
Expose, and see it die.

3. Light pierces their deceit,
Kremliad falls to defeat.

4. Truth scorches every wh#re,
Kremliad lives no more.



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




Truth strikes — the **** is dead.
Kremliad thrives on lies.
Expose, and see it die.

---

Lies feed the Kremliad.
Light cuts through their blight.
Fools cheer — but truth ignites.



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




Kremliad thrives on lies and deceit,
Truth strikes hard — they fall to defeat.
Light scorches their false parade,
Expose, ignite — let darkness fade.



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




Truth burns the Kremliad,
Lies crumble in the light.



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



The Bureaucrats

The bureaucratic ****,
Not drones — but evil’s hand.
They implant all that’s dumb,
The fiend here rules the land.

They use them in the dark,
For order is the key.
A dark order leaves its mark,
Multiplying false decree.

Their function — on the hills
They sit to block our way,
Guarding “order” with cheap thrills,
And forcing minds to sway.

This “order” is decay,
So hilltops hold the best.
No questions there — just prey,
The hilltop thief at rest.

On bribes and graft they feed,
Their energy all spent.
You’ll serve the fiends indeed,
A twisted instrument.

The bureaucrat — a coward, carrion,
Thus fascism he’ll uphold,
Injecting filth with blind precision,
Cretinism bought and sold.

He lets the people rot,
Their ******* firmly tied,
Freedom long forgot,
For thought is killed inside.

Upon the Spirit reigns
The whole decayed regime.
In life, the race remains:
Who’s sickest of the team,

Soullessness rules supreme —
The bureaucrat, the judge.
And day by day it seems
This pig delivers the grudge.

Bureaucratic ***** reigns,
More valued than the rest.
Their craft: to make the plains
Of mindless, hollowed pests.

The plain of stumps will rise —
Dull, sick, rotten, blind.
Upon these stumps resides
Evil like moss entwined.

Between the stumps and hills
Reigns stench and primal bray.
As long as dogs guard the hills,
Coupons must be paid each day.



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




Bureaucrats breed lies and blight,
Evil sits on every height.
Stumps of minds, the rotten thrive,
Truth must strike, and fight, survive!



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




Bureaucrats rot the mind,
Truth strikes, leave lies behind.



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




1. Evil rules the hills,
Stumps obey its wills.

2. Rotten minds, blind eyes,
Truth cuts through their lies.

3. Bureaucrats feed the plague,
Expose them — strike, don’t vague.

4. Dogs guard the hilltops,
While reason drops.



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




Evil rules the hills,
Stumps obey its wills,
Truth cuts through their lies.

---

Bureaucrats feed the plague,
Dogs guard the hilltops,
While reason drops.



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




Bureaucrats rot the land,
Evil rules with iron hand.
Stumps and hills, the rotten thrive,
Strike with truth — and fight, survive!



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




Evil rules the hills,
Truth strikes, the rot kills.



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




1. Bureaucrats rot minds,
Truth burns, their lies unwind.

2. Rotten hills, stumps rise,
Expose the fools, despise.

3. Evil sits on high,
Strike with light — watch it die.

4. Dogs guard the hilltops,
Reason falls, the stench never stops.



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




Bureaucrats rot minds,
Truth burns, their lies unwind,
Strike with light — watch them die.

---

Rotten hills, stumps rise,
Dogs guard the hilltops,
Expose the fools, despise.



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




Bureaucrats rot minds high,
Evil rules, while reason dies.
Stumps and hills, the rotten thrive,
Strike with truth — survive, alive!



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



Internal Invasion

"The fiercest enemy of the people, an internal invasion, can be another state."
— Dmitry Merezhkovsky, In the Quiet Pool, 1896


An internal invasion
No longer shocks.
We live in occupation,
So used to blocks.

Without the enforcers
Nothing can be done.
Though dumb and stubborn,
They’re eager to run

Any plan of ghouls,
Of every vile fiend.
For now the herd’s content —
Eat, drink, and feed.

The rest appears as nonsense,
Yet heed the ghoul alone.
He promises happiness,
As if it’s all his own.

He scares the enemies,
And when war is near,
Leads them to slaughter
As if a parade’s here.

His rule is stench alone —
The media serves that role.
Thus the invasion
Seems merely foul.

We wait for Satan’s coming,
The ghoul prattles still,
Claiming he’ll be the new god —
For minds too weak to ****.

Strengthen the invasion —
The rotten regime endures.
But every incident
Breeds the vile, ensures.

Hence they raised the alarm:
“CowID’s here…” they cry.
They know they’re lost —
A new catastrophe nigh.

It awaits us all.
Meanwhile, fascism thrives,
And the whole “people”
Are busy with empty lives.



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




Internal invasion spreads its blight,
Ghouls rule minds in endless night.
Stench and lies control the throng,
Strike with truth — resist the wrong!



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




Ghouls invade, the herd obeys,
Strike with truth — end their ways.



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




1. Invasion thrives, the herd is blind,
Truth cuts deep — leave lies behind.

2. Ghouls command, the people kneel,
Expose the rot, make horror real.

3. Stench and lies rule night and day,
Strike with light — burn them away.

4. The herd obeys, the ghoul decides,
Truth must pierce where evil hides.



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




Ghouls command, the people kneel,
Expose the rot, make horror real,
Truth cuts deep — leave lies behind.

---

Invasion thrives, the herd is blind,
The ghoul prattles, fools obey,
Strike with light — burn lies away.



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




Ghouls invade, the herd obeys,
Rot and lies rule all their days.
Expose the fiends, strike with light,
Truth must burn — resist the blight!



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



Talent

The oblivion of talent —
The gravest of all sins.
All “burgers and trifles,”
Family — chains that bind within.

Often solitude alone
Is the best of all spheres.
There bursts and prophecies
Outshine the SEA OF FEARS.

Create, though it be hard,
Ungrateful is the way.
Else you’ll turn foul in a flash,
A stench and murk will stay.

Spreading over the world like a sea.
And only mind, talent
Remain like an island, though burning
Much there. “Giant

Of intellect” — here just myth —
Fools almost all around:
On that quiet “island”
Less madness and less sound.

The more you see, the more you know,
If less stench and murk abound.
You’ll only harm yourself
And overcome DREAD profound.

DREAD, STENCH — inheritance bequeathed.
Only talent can burn it away.
It’s the finest weapon here
To fight fascism today.

Many fiends abound —
Total genocide on the march,
And propaganda’s sting
Is poisoned, lethal, harsh.

Talent and mind — in this
All creatures bear the blame.
But the song is not yet sung,
When among the **** you rise again,

Continuing once more the Path.
With talent you are born —
Do not forget this truth.
Only support it, keep it sworn:

Usually only yourself
Can support it — so many fiends,
All around a living Hell,
Bedlam reigns, the world unseams.

Rely on none but yourself,
Step boldly forward, straight.
And laugh above the Bedlam —
No brother you have in that state.



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




Talent burns where stench prevails,
Alone it fights, alone it sails.
Through Bedlam, dread, and endless strife,
Talent births the fiercest life!



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




Talent fights where darkness reigns,
Truth and fire break all chains.



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




1. Talent rises through the mire,
Burning lies, igniting fire.

2. Alone it stands, the gifted mind,
Through stench and dread, the path to find.

3. Talent cuts through Bedlam’s gloom,
Truth ignites, and lies meet doom.

4. In a world of filth and blight,
Talent strikes — a blazing light.



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




Talent rises through the mire,
Burning lies, igniting fire,
Truth ignites, and lies meet doom.

---

Alone it stands, the gifted mind,
Through stench and dread, the fools behind,
Talent strikes — leave filth confined.



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




Talent rises through the mire,
Burning lies, igniting fire.
Alone it stands, defies the blight,
Truth must strike — reveal the light!



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



Shelters for the Weak

Shelters for the weak,
“Teachers’” feeding troughs, sects and schemes.
Isn’t there enough chains for the dull?
Need “spirituals”? Respect the memes.

For fools, for dullards blind,
Who bent to lies — worldwide.
It’s simple there — a “spiritual” kind,
A life woven in webbed tide.

That web entangles all,
Simpler than the dull world’s strife.
Through that web… the feeble mind
Falls apart… a pitiful life.

The “worldview” — a mass of lies,
If simplicity rules… the fake guru
Sends only mirages,
An “alternate culture” to pursue.

New Age and other trash,
Almost all brazen, stupid, untrue.
The criterion of truth — itself
Becomes terrifying, complex too.

Rotting in Hell — and suddenly “syrup,”
Sickly sweet to the extreme.
It drives your soul to the grave —
Worse than the fiends’ violent scheme.

The only path — go… INWARD:
Answers lie there, all “solutions”
Imposed here are murk,
Serving only decay’s illusions.

Though some things may cut
Against this wretched “mainstream” tide,
If you’re not an idiot,
Always stubbornly go aside.

Dig for grains amid the filth —
What the hell is “spirituality”?
The truth will reveal itself
If relentless persistence is key.

Hellish stubbornness in you,
Intuition — your criterion.
Though in this slave-like fate,
All “portals” and “doors” seem barred,

You’ll open them yourself. But not
By pounding your head as sects teach.
They teach you to be a slave,
Planting lies in your Soul, defects in your Mind.



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




Shelters for fools, the weak confined,
Truth and fire cut through their mind.
Go inward, stubborn, find the way,
Expose the lies — and light the day!



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




Go inward, stubborn, seek the truth,
Expose the lies — reclaim your youth.



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




1. Fools hide in shelters, blind and weak,
Truth must strike — let fire speak.

2. Sect and lie try to enslave,
Go inward, fierce, and do not cave.

3. Among the filth, the truth is grim,
Strike with light — the shadows dim.

4. Shelters for the weak and vile,
Break the chains — reclaim your style.



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




Fools hide in shelters, blind and weak,
Truth must strike — let fire speak,
Go inward, fierce, and do not cave.

---

Sect and lie try to enslave,
Among the filth, the truth is grave,
Strike with light — the shadows cave.



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




Go inward, stubborn, seek the truth,
Expose the lies — reclaim your youth.
Strike with light through filth and shame,
Talent and mind — ignite the flame!



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




Expose the lies, ignite the flame,
Truth and talent — strike, reclaim!



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




1. Strike with light, destroy the rot,
Talent burns — obey it not.

2. Truth ignites, the filth decays,
Mind and talent blaze the ways.

3. Go inward, fierce, let lies fall,
Expose the weak, defy them all.

4. Talent fights where darkness reigns,
Truth and fire break all chains.



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




Strike with light, destroy the rot,
Mind and talent blaze the ways,
Expose the weak, defy them all.

---

Talent fights where darkness reigns,
Truth and fire break all chains,
Go inward, fierce, let lies fall.



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




Talent fights where darkness reigns,
Truth and fire break all chains.
Go inward, fierce, expose the lies,
Strike with light — let evil dies!



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



The Real “***** of the People”

Greed plus vanity,
Laziness, and fear,
Not Orthodoxy —
“*****” in the dark here.

It holds the Soul
And presses it down.
Serve greed,
You’ll become a clown.

If vain, the truth
You’ll never find,
Through yourself, indeed,
Step there, confined.

Blindly chasing carrots —
All your greed displayed.
Blindly new trappings,
In the vegetables, decay.

It’s become much worse —
Greed destroys it all.
Consciousness shrinks,
Fear makes you fall.

Only focus
On the Soul alone.
It will wander dark
If you reach the bottom stone

Of greed and vanity.
Such is the scheme
Of this evil
That the fiend set in the theme.

Satan has this *****
Prepared for men.
You’ll be a pale copy,
For it’s HIS den.

Seek the light and burn
Yourself with its fire.
If the heat grows stronger,
The ghouls will expire.

Greed glorified by fiends;
They rule fools —
Drive them all to hell,
No mercy, no rules.



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




Greed and vanity enslave the soul,
Focus within — reclaim control.
Burn with light, let ghouls expire,
Strike with truth, ignite the fire!



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




Burn with light, let ghouls expire,
Strike with truth — ignite the fire!



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




1. Greed enslaves, the weak obey,
Truth must strike, and burn decay.

2. Vanity rules, the ghouls rejoice,
Ignite your light — reclaim your voice.

3. Soul oppressed by fear and vice,
Strike with fire, break the ice.

4. Focus within, let darkness flee,
Truth and fire will set you free.



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




Greed enslaves, the weak obey,
Strike with fire, break the decay,
Ignite your light — reclaim your way.

---

Vanity rules, the ghouls rejoice,
Focus within — reclaim your voice,
Burn with light — destroy their noise.



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




Burn with light, let ghouls expire,
Strike with truth — ignite the fire.
Focus within, reclaim your soul,
Greed and vanity shall lose control!



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



Label-Man

Paper tags are glued,
Stamped on you from birth.
You’ve become a blot of pulp,
Absorbing lies on Earth.

The labels strike the mind,
Invisible yet tight.
Price tags with descriptions,
To which you’re so affixed, right,

They’ve become a part of you,
Without them — can’t survive.
They promise “happiness,”
While hiding rot alive.

There are ideologies —
And you’re a living chart.
In truth — pure nonsense reigns:
The fiend just spins his art.

That fiend rules through lies —
Violence kept in store.
Deceiving is simple here,
Since reason’s dead and poor —

Almost dead… The ****
Have studied us well:
They stick their filth precisely
Where the mind is frail.

And always ARTIFICIALLY,
Frightening the herd,
Making them numb in an instant —
Only the strong then rule the world.

Paper tags are glued,
And all the glue’s from filth.
Strike with lies without a miss,
Poison the world with guilt.

Then all the herd
Will march as if to church’s ****,
And the fiends need the final fight
To crown their timeless will.

It’s simple — more nonsense
Must fill the fool’s mind still.



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




Paper tags glued from birth,
Lies and filth corrupt the Earth.
Strike with truth, poison the herd,
Expose the fiends — unleash the word!



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




Strike with truth, poison the herd,
Expose the fiends — unleash the word!



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




1. Paper tags enslave the mind,
Truth and fire — break their bind.

2. Glued from birth, the lies remain,
Strike them down — reclaim the sane.

3. Herds march blind, the fiends rejoice,
Expose their schemes — reclaim your voice.

4. Labels bind, the weak obey,
Burn the lies — and clear the way.



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




Paper tags enslave the mind,
Strike them down — reclaim the sane,
Expose their schemes — reclaim your voice.

---

Herds march blind, the fiends rejoice,
Burn the lies — and clear the way,
Truth and fire — they cannot stay.



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




Strike the lies, reclaim the mind,
Expose the fiends — leave none behind.
Burn the herd’s blind, false disguise,
Truth and fire — let darkness die!



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



Economic Cattle

Logistics… of people:
They herd us like cattle, fed
By devils’ hand. Yet fools believe
The “best of worlds” instead.

Long ago the fiends held all,
Treating humans like mere swine.
And even in the terms we use,
The cruelty’s by design.

But fierce revenge will come —
The ghouls will rot and die.
Those who kept Spirit, Honor,
Will rise before history’s eye.

Take note — lest you become
One of the herd, like ****:
Traitors, cops, officious drones,
The rest of the vile, the numb.

Ignore them all — seek only Truth.
It lies within. Defy fate’s chain,
Walk your path, escape the abyss,
And you shall rise again.

Logistics of people thrives
At the bottom, in the pit.
Wake yourself — the world’s asleep
In Hell’s own nightmare writ.

The Soul alone is real,
All else is burning Hell.
Create, fight, and act with haste,
Or vanish in its smell.

The stench of Hell embodied
Today in fascist schemes.
Idiots and fools can’t see,
Blinded by their dreams.

Debilism spreads like plague,
Hence CowID can arise:
Hell’s revenge begins with lies,
A false pandemic in disguise.

All is lies. One law remains —
And this is genocide:
Spirit, Reason driven out,
The Mind nearly died.

A cataclysm may help —
Thus vengeance will take form.
All fascism will perish,
And those with Spirit, Honor, rise reborn.



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




Herded like cattle, fed by fiends,
Seek the Soul — ignore their schemes.
Strike with Spirit, fight the lies,
Honor survives, while darkness dies!



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




Seek the Soul, ignore the fiends,
Honor survives — strike their schemes!



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




1. Herded like cattle, trapped and blind,
Strike the lies — reclaim your mind.

2. Soul alone resists the herd,
Truth and fire must be heard.

3. Spirit rises where fiends control,
Honor fights — reclaim your soul.

4. Cattle march, the ghouls delight,
Burn their schemes — unleash the light.



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




Herded like cattle, trapped and blind,
Strike the lies — reclaim your mind,
Honor fights — reclaim your soul.

---

Cattle march, the ghouls delight,
Burn their schemes — unleash the light,
Soul alone resists the night.



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




Herded like cattle, trapped and blind,
Strike the lies — reclaim your mind.
Soul and Honor rise to fight,
Truth and fire consume the night!



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




Strike the lies — reclaim your mind,
Truth and fire consume the blind!



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




1. Herded like cattle, trapped and blind,
Soul and Honor break their bind.

2. Strike the lies, defy the herd,
Truth and fire must be heard.

3. Cattle march, the fiends delight,
Burn their schemes — reclaim your sight.

4. Spirit rises where darkness reigns,
Strike with fire — break their chains.



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



Strike the lies, defy the herd,
Truth and fire must be heard,
Soul and Honor break their bind.

---

Cattle march, the fiends delight,
Burn their schemes — reclaim your sight,
Spirit rises — strike with might.



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




Strike the lies, defy the herd,
Truth and fire must be heard.
Soul and Honor rise to fight,
Burn the darkness with your light!



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



Machines and Not Quite Machines…

Built like a “Peugeot,”
Just Me and Jo,
To carry another’s load,
And never be your own.

They ride on you,
As if not by spite?
Bring a little home,
Fate mocks your right.

Trained from childhood —
“It’s the law,” they claim.
Throw it out —
Unless you’re a fool to blame.

You’re meant to fly,
Not drag a load.
Killing your Soul,
Obeying, lying — the code.

You lie to yourself,
And rot inside.
This junkyard of MACHINES
Leaves no reason to abide.

Endure no more —
Crush to dust
This machine world
That’s wretched, unjust.

Built like a “Peugeot,”
Yet the sky is fresh —
Fly away fast,
Leave the ghouls’ mesh.

The ghouls ride on you,
Masters of illusion,
Experts in deceit —
Their trickery spreads, a confusion.

Stronger, stronger,
Break this vicious round.
This circle of vice —
No friend among the unbound.

You are not Me, nor Jo —
You are Spirit. That’s good
In the Sky. So soar high —
Leave the vile, the crud.



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




Built like a “Peugeot,” yet meant to fly,
Leave the ghouls and their deceit to die.
You are Spirit, not their load or chain,
So rise, break free, escape the pain!



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




You are Spirit, not their load or chain,
Rise and break free — escape the pain!



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




1. Built to soar, not drag their filth,
Break the chains — reclaim your self.

2. Fly, not carry another’s load,
Leave behind the ghouls’ dark code.

3. Rise above the machine-made trap,
Spirit free — escape their crap.

4. Not Me, not Jo — you are Soul,
Shatter their lies, regain control.



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




Built to soar, not drag their filth,
Break the chains — reclaim yourself,
Shatter their lies, regain control.

---

Fly, not drag another’s load,
Leave the ghouls and their dark code,
Spirit free — escape their hold.



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




Built to soar, not drag their filth,
Break the chains — reclaim your self.
Spirit free, rise to the sky,
Shatter their lies — let darkness die!



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



The Decay of Slaves

The decay of slaves
Is “scientific” here — so many schemes
Installed: breeding fools
Forms the base of all these dreams.

Of them, and of the others too,
Considerable funds are spent:
No mere compliant psyche is needed here —
A subservient mind, with no inheritance.

Knowledge that could lead
To Light, revealing truth —
They’ll cram the nonsense in
From childhood — lies in full uncouth.

You must lie “by science,”
To sharpen the effect,
Killing the Soul,
Filling the Mind with defect.

The fiend succeeded in this —
Already at rock bottom,
Its link with the Higher severed,
Only mental filth is shown.

The slave mixes the muck,
Proud of the limit reached,
The body weakened too —
Genocide here is harsh and beast.

Genocide is not by chance —
Research drove it all.
So the World’s Mess is human-made,
By cattle who built the hall.

Empathy is foreign to those
Who’ve arranged this scene:
Fear and whining won’t help —
Abundance of both here is keen.

We must study the fiends,
Just as they studied all of us.
Restore our link with the Higher,
Before the Mind decays and rusts.

Go inward — only Spirit saves.
It gives the answers, points the way.
We’ll overcome Hell’s servants —
Toward the Light we must stray.



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




The slaves decay, the fiends prevail,
Their lies in minds like iron nail.
Go inward, Spirit shows the way,
Rise to the Light — destroy their sway!



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




Go inward, Spirit shows the way,
Rise to the Light — destroy their sway!



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




1. Slaves decay beneath their lies,
Spirit rises — Hell defies.

2. Minds enslaved by fiends’ designs,
Go inward — break their binds.

3. Lies and schemes will crush the weak,
Spirit strong — the Light will speak.

4. Fiends may rule the world they’ve made,
Rise, Spirit, break their charade.



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




Slaves decay beneath their lies,
Spirit rises — Hell defies,
Go inward — break their binds.

---

Minds enslaved by fiends’ designs,
Rise, Spirit — crush their lines,
Expose their filth, destroy their signs.



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




Slaves decay beneath their lies,
Spirit rises — Hell defies.
Go inward, find the Light inside,
Break the chains — let truth be guide!



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



Human Trash

Clear without surveys:
Not just stupid stumps,
About the trash percent —
Ninety, at least, they lump.

Many sources
Tell us this truth.
They are not quarrelsome,
Yet spare no civilian’s youth.

CowID revealed
The filth — the traitors here;
Those whose minds are dead,
Soulless, with no fear.

Soulless masses shown —
A darkness thick and vast:
“Law-abiding” carriers
Of the yoke, unsurpassed.

In any group,
A clever mind will see
The lice — the dead ones,
Forever lost, they be.

They are simply zombies —
No longer human kind.
Zombies worse than bombs,
So many — fate unkind.

Here the final age —
No prospects left to find.
Negativity clings tight,
Into the mind and mind.

Negativity from Hell —
Super-evil, raw and deep.
They make fiends through lies,
Malice sowed while you sleep.

Artificially created
Is all this sea of pain.
Only a TRASH feels nothing —
In them, nonsense will reign.

On average, the world
Is nonsense, pure and bleak.
Not just critically bad,
But fatal — havoc they seek.

Irreversible,
Wrought by fiends’ intent.
But the “happy” trash?
So he dies — no lament.



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




Human trash spreads lies and dread,
Soulless, zombies, the living dead.
Go inward, Spirit sees the light,
Rise and strike — expose their blight!



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




Soulless zombies, filth and lies,
Rise, Spirit — break their ties!



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




1. Human trash rules, darkness spreads,
Spirit rises — crush their heads.

2. Zombies, liars, endless ****,
Go inward — strike, and overcome.

3. Filth abounds, the weak are trapped,
Spirit strong — their power snapped.

4. Lies and fiends have filled the land,
Rise, Spirit — strike with hand.



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




Zombies, liars, endless ****,
Spirit rises — strike, overcome,
Go inward — crush their hum.

---

Human trash rules, darkness spreads,
Rise, Spirit — crush their heads,
Expose their lies, destroy their threads.



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




Zombies, liars, filth and grime,
Spirit rises — strike in time.
Expose the lies, break every chain,
Rise to the Light — destroy their reign!



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



Fascist Madhouse

Psychotic, psychotic —
Through the madhouse I go.
These wild years are upon us,
The rotten world in throes.

A global madhouse, fiends
Long busy with dulling minds.
Now they revel in the terror,
Pouring fear on the confined.

Filth of idiocy, cretinism
Spreads its horror through the land.
Greater foolishness can’t exist,
Murk and propaganda expand.

Evil ******* of deceit,
Strengthening the split in all.
This is no joke or tale —
Fascist rule pervades the thrall.

World fascism too, indeed!
If Fascism enters the madhouse,
Then disaster’s certain —
All these faces now a louse.

These creatures turn the fools,
Vile inhumanity reigns.
Amid media smoke and smog,
The mind is nearly slain.

Soullessness widespread —
Few retain a human spark.
All else in this half-demon world
Sinks toward the blackest dark.

Half-human, half-demon —
Psychotic nearly all.
See it for yourself,
This hellish, endless sprawl.



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




Psychotic world, madness spreads,
Fascist lies fill hearts and heads.
Rise, Spirit — shatter their reign,
Light destroys their endless pain!



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




Fascist lies and madness reign,
Rise, Spirit — break their chain!



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




1. Psychotic fiends, the world insane,
Spirit rises — crush their chain.

2. Madness rules, lies flood the land,
Strike with Spirit — make your stand.

3. Half-demons, fools, the mind enslaved,
Rise, Spirit — show the brave.

4. Global madhouse, darkness spreads,
Break their rule — awaken heads.



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




Psychotic fiends, the world insane,
Spirit rises — crush their chain,
Expose the lies, destroy their reign.

---

Madness spreads, fools rule the land,
Rise, Spirit — strike with hand,
Laugh at liars, break their strand.



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




Psychotic fiends and half-demons reign,
Spirit rises — shatter the chain.
Expose their lies, burn through their night,
Rise to the Light — reclaim the fight!



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



Furry-Snouted Fiends

Furry-snouted fiends,
From hellish worlds they rise,
Roasting humans in their flames,
But first turn fools, unwise.

******* drowned all truth in lies,
And this is no mere jest.
They feed on those who blindly trust,
Believing “worlds are best.”

Yet clouds are thickening —
Hell trembles, shifting, tense.
All movements come from Hell itself,
Its mask of souls immense.

If souls decay, then hurry forth
To yet another Hell.
Focus deep within your Spirit,
Multiply your critical quell.

All dung-born flies, all lies alike —
Send them to Hell’s domain.
They roast not with fire,
But with deceit, minds wane.

Awake, see clearly,
Judge this Hell for what it is.
All madness unveiled, you’ll see
How fiends plot, none amiss.

No accidents exist,
Their law is foolishness and dread.
Masters of lies, their aim is clear —
Drive the Spirit from your head.

Concentrate within your Spirit,
Fight all ****, all deceit.
Cast out darkness, banish lies,
And in the Spirit find life complete.



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




Furry fiends from hell arise,
Deceit and lies cloud human eyes.
Focus Spirit, strike the lies,
In your Soul the True Light flies!



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




Hellish fiends spread lies and pain,
Rise, Spirit — break their chain!



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




1. Furry fiends from hell descend,
Spirit rises — break, defend.

2. Lies and darkness cloud the land,
Strike with Spirit, make your stand.

3. Hell’s deceivers, fools at play,
Rise, Spirit — burn their sway.

4. Madness rules, the liars grin,
Break their chains — let Truth begin.



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




Furry fiends from hell arise,
Spirit wakes — shatter their lies,
Expose the darkness, claim the skies.

---

Hellish fiends, fools in the fray,
Rise, Spirit — sweep their lies away,
Laugh at liars, crush their sway.



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




Furry fiends and hellish spawn,
Spirit rises — break the dawn.
Expose their lies, burn through their night,
Rise to the Light — reclaim the fight!



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



The Poet’s “Construct”

The poet’s “construct” —
Not a trifle, but complex.
If you’re no fool,
The THEME is of utmost weight.

The harder the theme,
The more strength it drains;
No simple scheme works there —
“Watered-down” won’t sustain.

Great mental flexibility
Is needed, and the soul’s high flame.
If frailty shows —
Consider yourself lost to the game.

Poets gaze into the Abyss,
And the Abyss gazes back.
Yet “useless” to the herd —
The crowd needs no poetic track.

A filthy task,
And none worse exists —
By the standards of fools.
But if the world is nonsense,

And you offer ANY alternative,
Even with no prospects in sight,
You’re not wasting yourself in vain.

You prove it to yourself,
And dreams loom large.
The sharper your truth,
The less your life is barge.

Though the worth may be small,
It shines step by step;
Clarity emerges —
Each foe is easy to detect.

Poetry exists for clarity,
And nothing else it is made;
Though it has conjured much filth,
Its value will not fade.

Fear nothing,
Burn bright, don’t just glow.
Without unrest —
The grave lies in your way.

If “cutesy fluff” prevails today,
You’re already dead.
It’s not about taste —
Fascism is strong and crude.

Poetry is a weapon
Against Universal Evil.
If your legacy is syrupy sludge —
You’ve become the fool, the devil.



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




Poet’s construct — not for fools,
Hard themes demand mind and soul.
Burn bright, speak truth, don’t bow to lies,
Clarity shines, each foe exposed.
Poetry fights the Universal Evil.



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




Burn bright, speak truth — fools will rot,
Poetry’s sword cuts Universal rot.



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




Flare the soul, strike truth — the herd will fall,
Poetry reigns, a blade against all evil.



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




Flare the soul, strike truth — let fools decay,
Each lie exposed, each fiend in dismay.
Poetry burns, a sword through the night,
Against Universal Evil, wield your light.



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




Burn, soul, burn — fools rot in your flame!
Strike lies down — let no fiend remain!
Poetry’s blade cuts deep through the night,
Light crushes Universal Evil with might!



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




Burn soul, strike truth — fools rot!
Poetry smashes Universal rot!

---

Ignite the soul, crush the fools!
Poetry rules — Evil breaks, no rules!



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




Flare the soul, let fools decay,
Strike each lie, no fiend shall stay.
Poetry reigns — Evil falls away!

---

Burn your soul — let the fools rot!
Smash all lies — crush every fiend!
Poetry strikes — Evil bleeds, undone!



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




Ignite, strike, burn — let Evil fall!

---

Burn fools, crush their lies — let Evil choke!

---

Strike within — let Spirit blaze, Evil fall!

---

Soul burns, fools rot, lies crush, Evil dies!



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




Soul ignites, lies shatter, fools fall!
Strike hard — Evil bleeds, undone for all!



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




Burn lies, crush fools, rise!

---

Ignite Spirit, destroy Evil!

---

Strike Evil, awaken Spirit!

---

Crush Evil. Burn Lies.

---

Awaken Spirit. Shatter Lies.

---

Burn Lies. Rise!

---

Expose. Scorch. Revolt.

---

Spirit Strikes Evil!

---

Rise, Spirit! Crush the Darkness!

---

Shine, Spirit! Annihilate Lies!

---

Light Strikes Falsehood!

---

Truth Burns All!

---

Spirit Smashes Lies!

**** the jar  mama keep the purse
Dill pickle the flave is pumping milk
Get him in the factory
He's to shined needs to box more
Tmz out

Ditch the appendage dowry

Zoe needs artillery
Publicity nightmares from the old country
Huffing zinfandel with snouted root face
Abandon ss jenner

Benito the raft! Alone please! No mercy Benito come home!

The nightingales from heaven devour crystobol!!!

Oh I must paint the moons arrival!!!
Our travesty brides!!!
Hide the cost in the furthest pages!!!

Irish poetry saga to
Ladypink nyc