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Ah.. shes here...I shuffle around the stalls... watching..out of the corners of my eyes.... she knows ....Intimacy...a hand on flank..careful..
.you'll break me....with your gentle hands..
..My hard mouth....your soft lips..
..unruly, unruled....old horse...a kiss.
.. Confused, ...stallion in name only.
... You whisper... My ears *****..
... forward..the hunt! ....your scent on..
..My bridle...I smell u still...
.. Calm...Comfort...Welcome...
.Gentled, not too gently....a strong hand.
. It grows trust …..truth...a Stallion! Once more.
Panting...pawing...'Be easy'..nervous eyes roll.
.a hand on the neck...a caress..'Gently '...you whisper,
.... hot breath against ear
… I snuffle and toss my head
…. still a bit frightened…..her power!
..Will you ride.? ! ..firm thighs and buttocks..
..Toes point... Heels dig...all Give and Take….
. Instruction to...from...the muscled beast.
..straddled. Awkward… too long without….
..A Rider … the matching... Gait with hip...
Walk-on.. Trot, pounding...Heels clip.
..faster, just a bit..Then smoothly they fit her to him.
...a canter.....this long stretch....rocking like one creature
….each a part of the other...breathing evenly…
...caught ….. Breath comes quick...bodies warm.
. Exertion...strength..trust.. Leaning forward..
knees grip..pulling...toes curl..in..
..hot breath..whisper in an ear… Now!
...hands grip mane... As they clench
… bit between the teeth...She..
...gives him his head... Finding his rhythm
…. home in sight...a last burst……
Rider/Stallion sweat soaked … blood pounding..There... againthe scent of her...Sweet Hay rising.
..she whispers… yes oh yes… I knew…
you had it in you.. In me...oh gods….YES! ! .
. No! not the pasture yet for you.. She chuckles..
.bodies tangled in sheets ….. Her mane of dark hair..
Scent of her fills him …
glad to be..Alive? Yes..head…. Heat…
heart...bursting…Not now… But soon.
. A gift.. This youth.. Who see's value in an old war horse.
..ridden.. but no more to war and blood..
.gentled, both he and she… sleep…bridled passion.
..her...a scent of sweet hay…
.him...an old spice..and gunpowder? ..mmm.
by Alexander K Hamilton
For M.R. come safely home.
Dennis Lancet Aug 2013
Fast-walking past Timpsons',
I hear Attic Dithyrambs
In eternal rhythmic voyage
The Adjectives of Ancients
Crowd my senses, deliciously:

Artless and cretinly, everyone turns away
Quite leisurely into the bus station,
And I alone walk among these
Uninquiring minds
I will shell out for an unruled real faux leather notebook

Uncle Harold, you don't know what Poetry means;
otherwise, you might have got me a quaint old anthology
dense and esoteric, with Spender and Ezra,
for my twenty-third

And not the Readers' Digest Word Power Dictionary you sent off for with coupons:
sure, I know what quixotic means
and how to spell weird, and conceited,
but name two ways they apply to me? How will I confront
the unremitting suffering of my existence
with a list of Celebrity Anagrams?

True? or False? Poetry is Dead,
and with it, the bespirited core of commonman:
I will submit my first volume as a .pdf
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2013
The young poetess^ writes:

Sitting on the edge of brilliance,
that cuts my youthful pride to shreds,
are the verbal shards of bards,
poets, beyond my experience.

Expelling their lifeblood,
I can, but only,
place my hands upon
their open wounds
murmuring hopeful platitudes,
praying that their blood spilled,
is not their excellence drained,
their wisdom wasted and stained!


The old hoary replies:

Wishful thirsty drinkers
from the cups of youth are we.

We 'presumed' ancient bards
have lived to regret the
burden of our accumulations,
the weightiness of our pages,
owning insights, steeped,
fermented, wine-to-vinegar,
spoiled by age, time-wasted.

Our words, product of visions
grown dim and simp,
under no duress,
we-eager confess!

Better poets were we,
when possessed of
blood hotter, skin smoother,
brow clearer, innocent of fear!

Your eager cuts run
zesty red and freely,
Ours, clotted ones,
anemic, yellowed from
the curse of the boundaries
of too much experience,
purchased pricey rules,
murderers of our uninhibited courage.

You cogitate with
passions unlined, unruled.
We shuffle, bemoan
our drizzling days,
waiting for relief,
and yet, rue
our inevitable conclusion.

We curse our fate, our slow dissolution.

You bless the opportunistic rising sun,
enervated by energies unbounded,
You animate for answers, solutions!

We sit caned and quiet, acidic,
damning Solomon and his caustic words -
There is nothing new under the sun.

Perhaps we know a word or two more than you.
Gladly we'd trade that for youthful hands
that pray, point and scribe, with the eagerness
that sets words upon paper of spirits enflamed!

Time, our master, has shred our writs to pieces,
yet, you young poetess, greet the morn, confident, saying
**today I will give birth to the first of many, masterpieces.
^The Young Poetess - Helen
bleeding comments on a scribble pad
interactions regulating a previous history
in words of spontaneous repeats
projecting the colour of dreams
in a world of violet sky
that has dispensed with night and day
in elliptical words that dilate
to a lacerating urgency
where apocalyptic statements
unleash in silent appraisal
a symbiosis of male and female
the creation of a new species
survivors of anaemic journeys
where one does not need to search
for identity in the other
but experiences that freedom
from the strain of isolation
and pieces together the fragments of
a once thought insoluble puzzle
that is disturbed in hidden speech
in bleeding comments on
an unruled scribble pad
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2014
.
Out
Doors
Shout
Floors,

Whispering
Wrings
Wilding
Wings,

Empt­iness
Full,
Loneliness
Unruled,

Spiritual
Angels.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2016
( Sonnet )*
.
Out
Doors
Shout
Floors,

Whispering
Wrings,
Wilding
Wings,

­Emptin­ess
Full,
Loneliness
Unruled,

Angels'
Spirituals.
James Lindsay Nov 2011
i don’t claim to set the boundaries on my freedom.

checkpoints tend to become distractions


the trees shapeshift in the night buried deep in the sinking kingdom

frightfully stirring, unconsciously aligning through permeable borders


forwards cowards

onwards or bend backwards


a gripped touch shuffled past emotions, lowering and cowering

concealed by a brash rhythm.  


subtle inclinations shiver your frown

freedom can be locked in a box unruled.

the kingdom with a forgotten crown

and a lonely clown not fooled.


What you made will fade.
Like the sun creating shade.
BAM Aug 2012
sometimes it hurts so much
that dull ache turns sharp
heart-breaKer
**** taker
*****, make her

crawl on her kNees to get to you
tear away her skin
and make her sin, for you

love hurts, after all
in its twisted Games
OF placing the blame
it's all on her heart-
break her

til Her bones snap
and she falls flat
Enough for you to walk over
her fragile frame
whose fault to blame?

when we all play love
by its unruled chart
and try to create Art
where words can't be spoken
hearts will be bRoken

he'll Take her there
where alls fair- in love and war
she can't take anymore
but her Silence is golden
I want you
and all your molecules
blissfully unruly
annh Dec 2018
my brain vomited
onto the page
all squiggles
and misspellings
unpunctuated
heiroglyphics
a secret language
only i
could understand
not prose
not poetry
not correct
just me
my pen
wreaks havoc
on unruled
paper
i am errant
i am irritable
i am irreverent
i am making
my way
Lynn Hamilton Apr 2017
Measured
Out
Binded

Eighty sheets
Eighty  gram

Flicking
Through

Stick
Men

Drawn

Bottom
Right
Corner

Cart
Wheeling
Running

Pain
Stakingly
Disjointed

Up
And
Down

Unruled
Margins

Twenty
Pages
Blank

Right
Hand
Top
Corner
Full

Sixty
Pages
Left

To
Pencil
In
And
Flick
Through
Emma Scott Aug 2020
You are the depths of dark and light

I fly... in your aspect, I shine.

Turning in your immortal glow

Above the horizon, I am divine.

The light extends to all I see

The dead risen with my breath

Unruled in passion, protector of all

Unassailable even in death.

I gaze upon your reflected face

As the illumination dies within

My flesh is torn, corrupt and base

My flight crippled in my sin.

Ripped asunder in your glare

A pool of black and viscous night

A road from whence there is no return

I wither in your slight.
Poetry doesn’t have to be wordy
Borrowed "Knowledge"

Borrowed scraps of "knowledge,"
From third-hand rotten claws!
That’s how they run their college —
Recruiting slaves for cause.

Since childhood they’ve been lining,
A queue that chokes your breath.
Their lies are sick, confining,
Their god is profit’s death.

They count you just a toolset,
A cog for profit’s scheme.
Their iron claws will rule yet,
And crush each laboring dream.

Forever you’ll be shackled,
If lies you still obey.
The Path of Truth is battled —
Yet serve it, come what may.

Turn intuition’s fire,
And let your mind grow sharp.
What’s forced is false desire,
You’re harvest for their carp.

Through filters all is broken,
Through foreign screens and schemes.
You’ll walk enslaved, soft-spoken,
Dragged down by borrowed dreams.

The weight of lies keeps growing —
“Progress!” they proudly yell.
But it’s your Soul they’re mowing —
This truth you must foretell.

Yet filters live within you,
They’re hammered in with force.
You censor self — they pin you,
That is the binding source.

And all of it’s past fiction,
Invented, thin, obscene.
The present — cheap restriction,
Where all are beasts for spleen.

Through lies you’ll see no nearing,
No future but decay.
Seek Spirit’s truth, unfearing,
Let soul blaze out the way.

The answers live in Spirit —
Go inward, strike, be free!
This world won’t let you near it —
The Path is Spirit. Be!

The age of meek surrender,
Of “kindness” false and tame,
Was just betrayal’s gender.
Awake! Reject their game.



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




1.
Your “knowledge” is a chain,
Their profit is your pain.

2.
Lies they preach as light —
Rise, and start the fight!

3.
No more blind surrender —
Awake! Destroy pretender.

4.
Their “progress” kills the soul,
Be Spirit — fierce, and whole.

5.
Smash their chains of lies —
Let Spirit burn, arise!



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



Essential Incompleteness

The incompleteness of a theory
Means truths remain untold —
Some claims no proof can query,
No method makes them cold.

A theory that's consistent
Is dooméd to be incomplete.
It’s phantasmagoria,
A heap of “logic” sleet.

It twists and mangles everything,
So falsehood takes the stage.
It bends the "facts" to suit their king —
What fits, they multiply in rage.

They also breed the prejudices —
Those orders feed the lies.
The press’s staleness circulates;
The monsters shout “disguise!”

They chant — and then they tailor
Each heresy on call.
The whole wide world is drowning,
Their lies now hammer, maul.

Now they are killing with the labels:
“Science!” — they scream and slay.
What reason should have saved is felled —
The beasts lie night and day.

Fake-AIDS, the sheep-virus —
Enough to wreck your head;
This brainwash verdict, fed by lies,
Declares your soul as dead.

Believe not — search the Spirit,
Let inner counsel steer.
Those lying hounds — believe me —
Will finally get their fear.

For you can’t lie forever —
This madness will decay.
Only Spirit will secure us
A dawn of knowing day.

You are a spiritual essence,
Not merely skin and bone.
Abandon petty "necessities" —
The hour’s ripe, be gone.

Cataclysms will follow —
Nature stands with true hearts.
They mark the end of fascism,
Of liars and their arts.



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




1.
Their “science” breeds decay —
Let Spirit light the way!

2.
Lies can’t enslave forever,
The Soul breaks every tether.

3.
Your essence is not bone —
Be Spirit, fierce, alone!

4.
Their logic is a cage,
Let Spirit start the rage!

5.
Smash their “truths” to dust —
In Spirit place your trust!



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



Deeply Entrenched Delusion

Carriers of rotten delusion,
The majority — always the crowd.
They raise you in madness’s fusion,
Where lunacy’s reigning is loud.

This madness is staged, never-ending,
Artificial, planned, and rehearsed.
And only more mad are ascending,
Each “progress” is simply the worst.

The circles of madness grow faster,
Each spiral breeds damage anew.
Each turn brings a deeper disaster,
Each “truth” twists reality’s view.

They call this “normality” proudly —
The citizen-idiot reigns.
Schizoids march onward, loudly,
And sanity bursts at the seams.

From youth you are trapped in their order,
Unless scraps of mind you can save.
Forever you fight at the border,
Bashed ****** by walls like a slave.

Yet struggling with idiocy’s ocean
Is proof you’re on Spirit’s track.
This world is a ghostly distortion —
Seek Spirit, and never look back.

For here, in this madhouse inferno,
The Spirit’s the only release.
Without intuition, cold logic
Is horror that shatters all peace.

Dispel this dark fog in your center,
And help those who burn in its flame.
Its poison cuts deeper than powder,
Madness no longer can reign.

We’ve reached the abyss of delusion —
Beyond it lies nothing but death.
Nine-tenths of mankind are illusions,
Dull peasants with soulless breath.



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




1.
Madness rules the crowd,
So Spirit shouts aloud!

2.
Their “normal” is decay —
Break free, carve your own way!

3.
Nine-tenths are slaves of lies —
Let Spirit make you rise!

4.
The madhouse calls it “norm” —
Be Spirit — break the form!

5.
Smash their madhouse creed —
Let Spirit take the lead!



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



Stiletto

A fight on thought’s high battleground —
Total war of every mind;
In this madhouse it’s the crown,
More than bullets, more than grind.

The weapon here is line and verse,
A stanza ****** like stiletto.
***** you, freaks — to shut me up —
You won’t silence this bravado.

Once I lived like near a bandit —
Nearly put a cop to rest.
Now to write is not a shame —
It’s part of the idea’s quest.

Should I gut those filthy ****,
Or keep hammering lines instead?
If fame spins up the other way,
Poems win — though wounds be bled.

My promo’s weak, the market’s foul.
Write poems, or shout for show?
World’s a dump, packed full of fools,
Most will never help, you know.

If they won’t lend a hand — that’s theirs;
I can slaughter lies with verse.
Still the herds graze toward the cliff —
Few minds count; the rest are curse.

Let it be — I’ll bar the fall;
Poem’s my vengeance, tool and rite.
But my hands itch for the last fight —
For the final clash to light.

If verse won’t do — then **** a part
Of non-humans who disgust.
These creatures gnaw my patience thin —
Better death than endless rust.

The hour nears — the dark’s grown loud;
Can’t bear the Night’s grim yoke.
Soon the last revolt will come —
I’m sick of choke and smoke.



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




Verse like a stiletto strikes —
Or **** the liars, end their likes!



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



Chimeras

Only chimeras dwell
Within the minds of men.
No limit to the hell
They forge in filthy lies again.

History’s myths are prized,
Phantasmagoria for dead souls.
Only the dead are mesmerized,
Taking fables as facts, their roles.

The fool believes in “progress” here —
Only presses of demonic might.
Involution’s grip is sheer,
A mind clipped short, no heights in sight.

The vile inhuman tightens reign,
People merely servants, tools.
Their scourge is vast, their gain
A world enslaved by cruel rules.

But fools know none of this —
Dull wretches feeding night and day.
The rest? Irrelevant abyss,
All sold, the world in disarray.

Shake off the dust and grime —
Build anew from zero ground.
Else only gallows, waste of time —
Or like the lice, be crushed, unbound.



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




1.
Chimeras rule the minds of men —
Rise, rebuild, and break their pen!

2.
Fools bow to lies and dust —
Awake in Spirit, fight, you must!

3.
The vile enslave with ghostly lore —
Shatter it, and rise once more!

4.
Their world is ash, their myths a trap —
Spirit strikes, collapse the map!

5.
Smash the chimeras in their heads —
Rise, rebuild from ashes and dreads!



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



Degradation

Stupidity and malice spread,
The Spirit’s Light grows dim and faint.
Honor, pride, and reason bled —
In men, they vanish without restraint.

So many Judas souls now thrive,
Enough to build them cities vast.
The remnants of mankind survive,
But bitter truths forever last.

Centuries of endless *******
Left their black, indelible trace.
Only filth has gained in passage,
And misery fills every space.

The vile inhuman rages on,
They’ve made this place a living Hell.
Where you at best are servant pawn,
At worst a tool for sale — a shell.

All men are ruled by foolishness —
The strongest crystal in the world.
For centuries, this idiocy grows —
Now heaps of it have long unfurled.

It’s reached the edge of pure madness —
They poison fools with deadly lies.
Here sarcasm is in shortness,
The fascist’s craft succeeds and flies.

Only fascism prospers here,
Only madness counts for gain.
Genocide is rushed and near —
Worse than war’s most blazing pain.

These ******* hurry, sweating fear,
While Sun will parch their vile decay.
No jokes exist with degradation —
Higher Powers will burn this sway.

They’ll rot beneath their cities’ tombs,
Saving bombs for righteous hands.
Those who strike them — end their dooms,
And purge the land of cursed bands.

Few will rise again in Spirit —
Those who never sold their soul,
Who stayed unlike the dung-fly’s merit,
Through genocidal, raging toll.



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




1.
Degradation rules the land —
Rise, strike back with Spirit’s hand!

2.
Madness thrives, the fascists reign —
Spirit rises through the pain!

3.
Rot and filth consume the ground —
Burn it down, let truth be found!

4.
Genocide and lies hold sway —
Spirit strikes and clears the way!

5.
Burn their filth, destroy their reign —
Let Spirit rise, break every chain!



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



Pol ***’s Overwork

Pol ***’s toil is endless, dark:
Make Pon Nar’s wombs a grave,
All obedient fools embark
To camps and nooses’ wave.

Hang all who dare dissent,
Economize on every shot —
Cheap executions, life’s lament,
A penny for life, a bullet bought.

“Enlighten” them with communism,
Make the world shudder in fear
Before this neo-fascism,
Where the worthless are held dear.

And poor Pol ***, tired and spent,
Worked himself to bone and blood.
But deeds are not mere accident:
****** revived in him, a flood.

His “innovations” vast and grim —
Stalin looks like a suckling lamb.
If West decays, then on a whim,
We’ll shove “paradise” Eastward, ****.

Pol ***’s “paradise,” even in Hell,
Is the tenth circle — what a feat!
In this vile world-zoo’s shell,
Only Evil knows no seat.



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




1.
Pol ***’s paradise is Hell —
Rise, strike back, break every cell!

2.
Fools obey, the tyrants rule —
Spirit fights, destroys their school!

3.
Neo-fascists crawl and reign —
Burn their lies, break every chain!

4.
Tenth circle of their Hellish game —
Strike with Spirit, purge the shame!

5.
Tear down Pol ***’s cursed domain —
Let Spirit rise, avenge the slain!



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



The Kunstkamera

The Kunstkamera of fools —
Submissive liars, half-wits,
Almost imbeciles, mostly
Dullards in endless pits.

Clinical idiots —
Fascism poured its might
To shape their twisted forces,
While the herd obeyed outright.

Obeyed every order —
Models of false plague.
Obeyed total lies,
Poisoned, infernal stage.

The Kunstkamera of fools
Will burn — cork-brained, absurd.
Soullessness rampant, fatal —
The end for this cursed herd.

To soulless fiends of Hell
These wretches are mere feast.
The feast must end —
Humanity now decreased.

Fools to Hell, and humans
To the New World that will rise.
History’s end is written —
Total doom for every guise.



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




1.
Fools to Hell, the soulless burn —
Rise, rebuild, it’s our turn!

2.
Kunstkamera of liars dies —
Spirit strikes, the truth shall rise!

3.
Soulless fiends feast in vain —
Humans rise, break every chain!

4.
Infernal herd meets fire —
Strike with Spirit, lift us higher!

5.
Burn the Kunstkamera of fools —
Let Spirit rise and break their rules!



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



Cheating Deck

The game will end in utter fail,
The cheat marked every card.
But this Abyss is never frail —
When fools oppose, it hits hard.

Playing’s easier, much more plain,
So selection moves along.
It’s negative, and worse, the strain —
A sentence to dullness strong.

Birth itself’s a kind of court,
Infants raised as prisoners bound.
Sadists, fools, and twisted sorts
Are tasked to serve the mind around.

They sow lies — insanity sprouts.
Impose fear — vile **** appears.
They train the beasts to follow shouts,
Execution often brings more cheers.

They **** — the Soul takes flight in space.
Dehumanize — straight to Hell.
Everywhere, genocide’s trace,
Tyranny rules; obedient swells.

The game will fail for beasts as well,
Not a “Final Judgment” grim,
But global cataclysm will swell,
Sweeping clean the world’s dark whim.

Those who did not play — not bend,
May rise, perhaps, in Spirit’s light:
Their Soul preserved, truth to defend,
Their fear defeated, wrong from right.



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




1.
The cheat’s game ends in flame —
Rise, protect your soul from shame!

2.
Beasts obey, the world decays —
Spirit fights, breaks all their ways!

3.
Marked cards and tyrant’s law —
Strike with Spirit, crush the flaw!

4.
Fools play, but truth survives —
Spirit wins, the Soul revives!

5.
Crush the cheating beasts and lies —
Let Spirit soar, let truth arise!



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



Question to the “Masters of Life”

The “chosen of fate” command,
Their slaves obedient stand.
But whose serf are you, tell me?
No answer comes, no key, no plea.

Survey the world’s grotesque display —
That serf oppresses fools each day,
Called “the people” by decree.
All woes are false, contrived, and prey.

Plans come from “above,” the serf
Is merely stubborn, piggish turf.
He cannot disobey the hand,
Satanism will strike and brand.

A system built on pure Satan’s rule,
Cretinism taught from cradle-school.
The serf exists but as a tool,
Holding whip and honeyed spool.

The world is drowned in fascist muck,
Shouting “Freedom!” — hollow pluck.
A sycophant among the herd,
The lowest voice, the puppet stirred.

Whip and bribe, the lie of “free” —
Monsters kneel submissively.
The lowest slave in all the land
Is he who grips the whip, not command.

And the tyrant? Not the topmost link,
But blind to what’s beyond the brink.
In Satan’s vaults, beyond all light,
Darkness thickens, endless night.



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




1.
Serfs obey, the tyrants rule —
Strike with Spirit, break the fool!

2.
Whip and bribe, the world enslaved —
Spirit rises, truth is saved!

3.
The lowest slave grips the whip —
Crush their lies, let freedom rip!

4.
Satan’s vaults may hide the night —
Spirit strikes, restores the light!

5.
Strike the tyrants, break their chain —
Let Spirit rise and rule again!



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



Path, Flight, and Misflight

To take the weight of life in hand,
And walk your path, your own demand?
Along the trail, the slugs drag slow:
“We won’t turn back!” — they creep below.

Through thorns and salt toward joy we tread,
Our path with glory lightly spread.
All storms, all woes are merely brief,
Yet few can grasp this truth, this reef.

Only a handful dare — they’re called
Mad by the crowd, by fear enthralled.
They dream of Heaven in their sleep,
Stars guiding where the angels keep.

A tiny share seeks wings to grow,
To face Death, or Rebirth’s flow.
With slugs they cannot rot away,
Their souls demand another way.

Not by mere path, but flight into the Void
Completes the life that fate destroyed.
Not lost without a single trace:
Horror subdued by Spirit’s grace.

So in new generations’ skies
The Flight continues, spirit-wise.
Out of Hell of decomposition,
Where now all lives end in Misflight’s portion.



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




1.
Rise from Hell, take Spirit’s flight —
Break the chains, reclaim the light!

2.
Few dare wings while slugs crawl low —
Flight prevails where courage grows!

3.
Not by path, but through the Void —
Souls ascend, the weak destroyed!

4.
Flight conquers Misflight’s curse —
Spirit strikes, the world reversed!

5.
Rise, take flight beyond the slime —
Let Spirit soar, defy all time!



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



Replacing Lies with Lies

“Truth overtakes the liars, and false witnesses alike.”
— Heraclitus


Truth will catch the liars’ schemes,
If some new cunning liar builds
Upon the ruins of old dreams
A Crown of Lies with half-truths filled.

Exposing old deceit with “half”
Becomes the pure foundation stone,
So future generations laugh
And take the lie for life their own.

Thoroughly, and lasting long,
All witnesses disposed, erased.
False witnesses, as if a throng
Of “martyrs,” into people placed.

This history of lies extends
For centuries, a masquerade.
Like stones upon the soul it bends,
Killing reason, truth betrayed.

Yet lies grow bolder, far from shy,
In the world’s motley carnival.
They rule the fools, and none deny —
Not the people, but the pitiful thrall.

Cowards lowered beneath the floor,
Deceived, debased, and kept in chain.
Through all the days to come, once more,
The fools will wear deceit’s reign.



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




1.
Lies breed lies, the fools obey —
Strike with Spirit, tear the sway!

2.
False crowns rise on ruined ground —
Spirit strikes, truth shall resound!

3.
Liars rule, the world’s a stage —
Burn their lies, break every cage!

4.
Fools enthroned in half-truth lies —
Spirit rises, never dies!

5.
Smash the crowns of lies and deceit —
Let Spirit rise, the fools defeat!



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



Controlled “Artworks”

A series on poets, artists,
And mystic teachers’ ways?
Never! — just praise for nothingness,
Decay is sung in endless plays.

Thugs and **** in uniforms —
These are themes for all of time,
For which no barrier can perform.
And there’s much more of such grime.

While visions, flights beyond the bounds
Of narrow worlds like ruts in sand,
Or paths of daring, thoughtful minds
Are trapped, suppressed, denied the land.

A snot smeared out to gross degree
Across a hundred episodes —
That’s what reaches the people’s eyes.
No difference for the masses shows,
With rare exceptions — just the dregs.

They fund the vile, the worthless stuff,
Or beasts who’ve seized the world entire.
Is this the plan? Controlled “artworks”
Produce a false idol to inspire.



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




1.
False idols rise, the beasts command —
Strike with Spirit, reclaim the land!

2.
Thugs in art, the truth denied —
Spirit breaks through, will not hide!

3.
Decay is sung, the people fooled —
Spirit strikes, the world unruled!

4.
Controlled “art” spreads lies and grime —
Rise with Spirit, end their crime!

5.
Tear down the false idols and lies —
Let Spirit rise and claim the skies!



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



Poisoned Books and Media

A pitiful crowd: small minds
Through media fall once more.
It started with schools and books,
The world a conveyor for nothing’s store.

Nothing in “adult” pseudo-life
Daily rolls on that machine.
Sprinkle truth, a tiny bit —
The idiot sees it as poison, mean.

If only we could make a Great Sprinkler,
To shake the herd a little,
Blow a squeaky, shrill lament,
Stir the putrid muck’s dark riddle.

The lament of all beyond the screens
A faint squeak for the few who hear.
Through lies, the beasts must spread
Fear, dragging the rabble down, austere.

The bottom breached, beneath the floor —
The second deep of Total Lies.
Media turn to stench and gore —
The herd’s “consciousness” in mirage lies.

All shown in CowID’s depth,
Strongly shaded by war’s strife.
Yet the **** obey, enslaved to evil —
No chance to reclaim one’s life.



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




1.
Poison spreads through books and screens —
Strike with Spirit, break their schemes!

2.
Beasts control the rabble’s mind —
Spirit fights, the truth to find!

3.
Lies conveyor, bottom breached —
Rise with Spirit, evil’s reached!

4.
**** obey, the herd confined —
Spirit strikes, no more blind!

5.
Crush the poisoned lies and **** —
Let Spirit rise, let truth become!



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



Foundations of Life, Large and Small

A cat, the model of sound life,
While two-legged fools breed strife:
Even small foundations, true,
Cats mastered long ago, it’s true.
The great foundations, rare minds recall,
Their voices unheard, lost to all.

Like mice in traps before the cat,
Humans cower, fearful, flat.
In savagery, in foolish lies,
Cheese of the trap, their prize.
Vile beasts’ cunning, simple and old,
For centuries fools have been controlled.

If primitiveness rules with skill,
Then beasts reshape man at will:
Reason and Spirit cannot rise,
Nor fall, confined by their despise.
The absurdity of all excuse
Has dulled the tongue, a bitter ruse.

CowID has shown, with leaps immense,
The world descends to brutish sense.
Lies and fear swell to tsunami’s might —
A concentration camp in sight.
The Red Cross on white, so stark,
Soon reality — the FINAL SHAME, the mark.



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




1.
Beasts reshape man, the Spirit chained —
Strike with truth, their lies arraigned!

2.
Fear and lies swell like a tide —
Rise with Spirit, break their pride!

3.
CowID shows the world’s descent —
Spirit strikes, let truth prevent!

4.
Fools cower, trapped by cunning schemes —
Spirit rises, shatters dreams!

5.
Strike the beasts who bind the mind —
Let Spirit rise, leave lies behind!



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



The Commune of the Cesspool

**** to ****
Clumps together: sinks to the pit,
Small bits fall, yet at the top
The bigger pieces feast, yeast-fed, nonstop.

**** spreads freely, stains, deceives the pit,
Shouting: “The worthy rises!” bit by bit.
The dignity of **** — its unity:
Larger chunks bring stench’s supremacy.

All will succumb, by foul aroma led,
The stench of vermin, Shmat has said —
The largest one, the President
Of the Corpse Cesspool’s vile descent.

Seek the living at the bottom fast:
**** grows bolder, miasma cast
Deliberately downward — false disease,
Strengthened by evil propaganda’s breeze.

Rot spreads everywhere, the foul decay
Must rule the pit, in its perverse way.
It crushes all the bottom, tightly bound,
A unity in filth, profoundly profound.



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




1.
Rot rises, the cesspool rules —
Strike with Spirit, break their fools!

2.
**** unites, the stench prevails —
Spirit cuts through filth and scales!

3.
False vermin climb, the bottom crushed —
Rise with Spirit, break the hush!

4.
Cesspool spreads, the pit enslaves —
Spirit strikes, the living saves!

5.
Smash the cesspool, break their reign —
Let Spirit rise and cleanse the pain!



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



Night of the Hellish World

KNOWLEDGE is slain
By pseudo-science, lies,
Evil of religions veiled
“Secrets”: only shivers, sighs.
Submission in the herd
They cultivate and breed.
Society: the **** atop
Greater **** indeed.

They build a pyramid —
A worldwide madhouse grows.
Beasts triple lies —
Turn all to cattle, those.
Most already — “Moo”,
Debilism made the norm.
So soon we’ll meet
The Cataclysm’s storm.

Cycles of erasure sweep,
When aiming downward still,
Into the Hell of Fascist Filth,
Where debilism exceeds all will.
Beyond this lies the end —
No rescue in that flood.

Be Spiritual, be brave,
Though labor’s harsh and tough,
In the Sea of Decay
Seek light within enough.
To the Highest strive —
Save your soul from night,
Let it form the base
Of thought and deed aright.

A New Day will rise —
Hell will drain to cesspool’s pit,
Lawlessness will vanish.
Those in Spirit, bold and wise,
Who’ve outgrown lies of evil,
Quickly growing bright,
Won’t be cast into the pit
But stand free in light.



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




1.
Hell’s night spreads, lies rule the herd —
Rise with Spirit, strike the absurd!

2.
Debilism reigns, the world decays —
Spirit fights, ignites new days!

3.
Cesspools grow, the **** takes flight —
Stand in Spirit, claim the light!

4.
Lies and evil chain the mind —
Spirit breaks, leaving them behind!

5.
Rise, Spirit! Break the night of lies —
Shatter the Hell where darkness hides!



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



Neutron Bomb of Lies

With promise to the slaughter,
They lead the sheep in line again.
Tortured by vile lies — what matter,
Bomb or shell? The end’s the same.

Compare it to a neutron bomb —
The skin intact, yet Soul will flee,
Like clots of fear they rush to swarm,
Chasing dread relentlessly.

Clots in minds — a world of sheep
Pulled over eyes today, you see:
CowID shows the torture deep,
A mirror of the world’s debris.

The foolish herd heads to the camp
Digital, modern, a living trap.
Red cross on white, propaganda’s stamp,
Their calls and cries a venomous clap.

All will internalize — care’s assured!
The flocks march on, more brisk, more numb.
Idiots once ruled, but now secured,
Decay grows stronger, the herd is dumb.

Control of flocks via media’s might,
Triumph of BEASTS who rule the world outright.
Their reign concludes — a grand salute,
Yet daily life poisons with lies, absolute.



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




1.
Sheep march blind, the lies explode —
Spirit strikes, destroys their code!

2.
Neutron lies sweep mind and soul —
Rise with Spirit, take control!

3.
The herd obeys, decay runs deep —
Spirit wakes, the darkness leaps!

4.
Beasts of media rule the day —
Spirit burns, sweeps lies away!

5.
Rise, Spirit! Shatter the neutron lies —
Burn the herd’s blind world with your eyes!



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



Games in “Democracy” of Combat Propagandists

Pro-forma games, uniformed disguise —
Where are you, propagandist? Open your eyes!
Behind you, a Chasm of Hell awaits,
Driving your last mind out the gates.

This is the task the BEASTS assign,
To drown in False Seas, forgetting the Fight divine.
A mad world, to Evil bowed,
Call that Evil “Good” — the herd follows loud.

Worst form of dictatorship unveiled:
Your dung-cracy, hollow, derailed.
No science, no culture, just rotten imitation,
All painted over with false elation.

Crush it with flourish — that’s your role, “major” bold.
Beat the people cheap, but angry, controlled.
Lies are weapons, precise as guns and bombs,
No casualties visible — just follow the psalms.

March in the patrol, the show’s complete,
While fools obey the drumbeat’s deceit.



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




1.
Propagandists march, lies in hand —
Spirit strikes, destroys their stand!

2.
Hell behind, the herd obeys —
Rise, Spirit! Burn their maze!

3.
Mad world bows to Evil’s game —
Spirit wakes, ignites the flame!

4.
Lies are weapons, fools are led —
Spirit breaks, their rule is dead!

5.
Rise, Spirit! Crush the lies they wield —
Shatter the herd, let truth be revealed!



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



Hymn of the Herbivores

May Tolerastya dwell with you!
It shields from failures, misfortune too:
With herbivores, your days are bright,
Even grazing near the cliff’s sharp bite.

If you bleat in peace, the shepherd will see,
Reward and heal your malady:
With trinkets pricked into your veins,
The hooved shall feel the coming changes’ reigns.

A Digital Pen will rise as well,
With a mighty electronic shell.
And your head — for chewing, small,
To dream desires and wish them all.

Paradise approaches! Hey, sheep, don’t slack:
Be inspired, raise the lambs back on track,
In obedience, awe, and humble devotion
Before the new — hybrid generation’s notion.

A chip beneath the skin they’ll implant,
So you’ll never wander, never recant:
To the combine you’ll march with the herd,
Not for meat — the sign reads “Joy” absurd.



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




1.
Rise, sheep! The chip is near —
March with the herd, abandon fear!

2.
Hooves on the cliff, yet follow the crowd —
Spirit resists, break free, be proud!

3.
Bleat in chains, they’ll call it “Joy” —
Strike the lies, reclaim, destroy!

4.
Paradise false, the herd obeys —
Wake, Spirit! Ignite the blaze!

5.
Wake, Spirit! Tear the herd from lies —
Smash the chip, let truth arise!
ash 20h
11:12 am
(the body breaking down, wound's soliloquy)

the red string of veins turned black when?
it is wrapped around my palm, like warped wire.
you don’t leave a thorned vein, for it coerces the grip intact.
now i’ve got empty spots i have to dress.

02:54 pm
(world of outside ruining it, external patches)

the excavator encroached that land stretching infinite—
it seemed to be the sign of permanence.
now the egrets scream as their lands are taken,
the machinery lives on, uncaring for what will exist once it’s done.

04:45 pm
(doubt sowed near sunsets, rotten roots)

the moment the seed of doubt about an intention takes birth in a head,
that is the moment that clears up a sorted mess.
if never intended, the seed shouldn’t have existed.
but now that it does, either we clear it up,
or dive deep into what was aimed and intended.

07:20 pm
(hidden crevices in a brick wall, secrecy unruled)

we all have spaces we keep blank,
entryways that require passwords to unlock the doors—
beyond which lies what, only the origin knows.
awaiting who, locked up with what intentions?

09:50 pm
(unduly recognition of lack of sleep, a sensory overload)

and it’s a world louder than it has ever been.
the eyes flicker, the thing they do when they’re sleepy,
trying to stay up, unable to give in to resting.
i ought to sleep if there’s a dream that awaits,
except there’s a residue of rings that keep it from me.
the noise is there too,
it sharpens, bends a corner, aims directly,
as if the rebouncing, rebounding is proclamatic.

12:37 am
(phantom of memories, shallow rooms)

nimble hands try to sew up, to prevent anyone from seeing,
but they shake and quiver—
it’s ******* them too.
covered in a range of shades, they only know how to mistake
opening for a closing.
how does stitching and suturing work?

01:43 am
(intimacy rising beyond midnight, hearts rule)

i ate a few kisses,
shaped like dew drops; they had almonds and berries.
the wrappers i saved,
but someone tore them in between—
like tiny little presents,
dressed up the paper stars in golden wrapping.
would you like a handful of kisses?
identities shifting through times-changing,
wonder who you'll meet when you arrive.

epitome of mastery in numbers up there~

— The End —