Игорь Выхованец, стихи 6901-7000

Игорь Выхованец, стихи: 6901-7000



Творческий процесс и шаблон пошлости

Нет энергии — шаблон
Одолеет. Гонишь вон,
Он обратно. Лишь процесс
Творческий имеет вес —

Даст энергию, шаблон
Растворит. Но мудозвон
Ищет "счастье" в Забытьи
Лжи и денег — не спасти...




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The Creative Spark and the Clich; Trap

When your fire starts to fade,
Clich;s crawl in, unafraid.
Chase them off—they come once more,
Till creation fuels the core.

Let the spark of art arise,
Burning through their dull disguise.
Fools seek “joy” in gold and lies,
Lost in numbness of reprise...



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Губительные стереотипы "здравого смысла"

"Здравый смысл" предательством
Сильно отдаёт,
Поглощён стяжательством.
Часто идиот,

Хитрый и коварный,
Но немой, слепой
К Свету в Мире Тварном
В том итог. Едой,

Тряпками затарен,
Но Стереотип
Губит Ум. Коварен
Пошлый мир. Ты влип,

Если, херя Творчество,
Будешь в нём "как все",
Повторив убожество
Белки в колесе.

"Здравый смысл" не видит
Это Колесо.
Также не предвидит
Смерть Души: ИПсО

Всюду — разложенье
Цель его. Урод
Большинством. Зла мненье —
"Здравый смысл". Невзгод

Будет очень много,
Раз силён тот "смысл".
Чти лишь Искру Бога,
Что внутри, жизнь, мысль

Подчиняя оной —
Вот единый путь.
Сдохнешь мудозвоном,
Умножая Жуть,

Если по-другому
Будешь поступать
В Мировом Дурдоме,
Дух тем добивать.


ИПсО — информационно-психологические специальные операции.




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Destructive Stereotypes of "Common Sense"

"Common sense" is treacherous,
Greedy to the core,
Blindly serving avarice,
Often but a bore.

Cunning, sly, deceptive,
Yet it fails to see
Light beyond perspectives
Of this world’s debris.

Draped in wealth and fashion,
Yet it drains the mind,
Traps the soul in ashes,
Leaves the heart confined.

If you crush Creation,
Live like all the rest,
Dying in rotation—
Hamster in a nest.

"Common sense" sees nothing,
Nor the spinning wheel,
Fails to see corruption,
Death of soul concealed.

Psy-ops shape the nations,
Minds decay and rot,
Blindly ruled by masses,
Evil’s common thought.

Struggles shall be many
While this "sense" holds sway.
Seek the Spark within you—
That’s the only way.

Else, you'll die a fool, and
Spread the reign of gloom,
Feeding madness further,
Crushing soul in doom.



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Оглупление через века

"Нынешние школы никчемны по результату. Преподается только умение складывать слова без понимания, как будто для овец важнее блеять, чем кормиться".
Пьер Абеляр, XII-ый век.


Мало что меняется:
Оглупляет Тьма.
И Душа в ней мается
Между крох ума.

Оставляют крохи —
Всё на ТВАРЕЙ пир.
Овцам чушь и блохи,
Коль Пастух кумир.

Лишь меняй личины
Пастухов, тогда
Не найдут причины
Бед во Лжи стада.

Блеять, а не думать
Учат, потому
Будут только хрумать.
Реквием уму

Можно спеть: дебилов
Большинство давно —
И фашизма силы
Тащат мир на Дно.




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Dumbing Down Through the Ages

"Modern schools achieve nothing at all. They teach only how to string words together without understanding—
as if for sheep, bleating matters more than feeding."
— Pierre Abelard, 12th century.


Little ever changes—
Darkness dulls the mind,
Leaves the soul in cages,
Trapped and nearly blind.

Wisdom’s crumbs are taken,
Feasts for beasts begin.
Sheep get scraps and fables,
If the Shepherd’s king.

Swap the masks of leaders,
Flocks will never see—
Truth is lost in bleating,
Drowned in sophistry.

Bleat, but never reason—
That is what they teach.
Feed upon illusion,
Sense stays out of reach.

Sing the mind’s last requiem,
For the fools are massed,
And the grip of fascists
Drags the world down fast.



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Вера в лженауку

"Научное открытие"
Основано на вере
В идеи, раньше битые.
Эксперимент поВерит

Догадки. Лишь бы это!
Подгонкою-грешком
Опустят мысль до бреда,
Оставив дураком

Того, кто Чуши верит —
Без веры никуда!
Бесстрастно всё проверит
И скажет "ерунда!"

Лишь редкий одиночка.
Не слушают его.
Пора поставить точку —
Лже-веры торжество

Ведёт нас к деградации:
"Учёные" попы,
Но новой генерации, —
Продажные жлобы.

Конечно, есть там крохи
"Полезного", но Чушь
Не счесть. Они как блохи,
Но для умов и душ.



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



Faith in Pseudoscience

A "scientific breakthrough"
Is rooted in belief—
In vague and hazy theories,
Yet proof is just as brief.

A test confirms the hunches,
Or bends to fit the claim,
And tangled minds will stumble,
Deceived by twisted games.

For faith is all that matters!
Without it—nothing stays.
The rare, cold skeptic shatters
Illusions with a phrase:

"Absurd!"—but none will listen.
His voice is drowned once more.
While blind belief’s dominion
Drags reason to the floor.

The scholars turned to preachers,
Yet wear a different guise—
Their sermons built on profit,
Their dogma sold as lies.

Yes, truth still leaves its traces,
Yet nonsense floods the land—
Like fleas upon the spirit,
Like chains upon the mind.



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



The Path

Don’t push your mind beyond its measure—
This Path of Thought brings little pleasure.
So many lost their way in blindness,
Trapped in the loops of their own mindness.

But Insight lifts you, clear and bright—
It lies above the mind, in sight
Of heart and soul. Let Spirit guide—
With horse and rider well allied.



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



The Pyramid of Social Foolery

A noble goat ascends the tiers,
Not the last among the chain.
A wretched soul who sold his years
To Evil’s tune for fleeting gain.

He spits on those beneath his feet,
Crushes those who touch the base,
And serves the whims of those elite,
Groveling with slavish grace.

This Everest of servile grime,
A mountain built of fawning waste,
Defines the world—a hollow crime,
No room for Mind or Soul’s embrace.

Yet should such values hold their sway,
The hollow peak will quickly fall.
To those attuned, the signs convey:
Decline now looms above us all.

Degradation’s rife, unchecked;
The base will crack and pull it down.
The "summit’s" fiend, your reign is wrecked—
Weep and wail; you’ll surely drown!




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



Runner

A runner turned around — in his old age
He still takes part in every race.
His life has shrunk to such a small stage,
Almost each fool a fool in place.

So simple it seems, this life's creation,
But all that's left is narrowness, nonsense, and dust.
For it's like lying in a state of comatose sensation,
In dreams, only misery and fear are just.



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



Slavery

The whole world toils for food each day:
All exceptions — a mere ERROR.
But the masses, lost in their dismay,
Cry out, "Freedom, choice." Security? —

An exception: to frighten, to sway
The slaves with lies and provocations —
And so, they tighten the leash, they play
The monsters, in fear and frustration.

In fear and confusion, they dwell—
And make that their norm of existence.
To empty ideologies they fell,
Now rotting minds in blind resistance.

No hope for salvation, no way out:
A Cataclysm will break this chain.
The slave world will destroyed, "happy" without
The crushing, dull fascism's reign.



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



Dissolution of the World

Subject, object — nonsense, gloom.
We’re ruled by fears and lies,
Boundless is the Spiritual Realm.
If your mind’s not left behind,

Then yield it to the Spirit’s sway,
For Spirit’s triumph will display
How the wretched world dissolves—
Like rotten cheese in a trap’s jaws.



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



Catch of Evil

A multitude of hackneyed words
Like ripples. But the catch of Evil,
Its essence, lies in the Depths of Lies.
Mirages veiled in endless mist,

Crafted from false ideas —
Disguises. Through a sieve,
They pour the water everywhere—
Distracting attention, leading astray.

To understand what’s truly caught,
A fool’s test is required:
They launched the cow-ID into the pond—
Three-quarters of the mind is slain...

The rest need not be caught:
Idiots, in their merry alliance,
Will gladly exterminate the wise—
By the pond, the Monster builds

A new camp—digital,
Surrounding the damaged, mindless,
With "care"—which will be the Spirit's FINAL blow.

And soulless fools will waste their strength
Only on the tasks of Darkness.
To them, this seems today to be madness...




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



Surviving to Sacrifice

We all must SURVIVE!
CREATURES will pressure us,
With their endless, vulgar survival—
Leading Souls to the slaughter,
Guided together as one.
Lies and fears, total and pure,
Fill the air, a grim allure.
Like on the scaffold, the world insane,
Bent by foolish, rigid chains.
And from these fears, the Mind lies in ruins—
Except for rare exceptions,
In this age of disconnections,
Where generations suffer from decay,
Driving the masses to dismay,
Unable to awaken:
Before Hell, they bend and break,
Further still, they'll sink and crawl.
Their future's like lemmings, bound to fall,
Group by group, they near the cliff.
They’ll jump to the abyss by order—
Idiots believe the media’s borders,
As if they believe in God.
The world stinks from the vomit of propaganda—
They showed it in Cow-ID.
Stop surviving, now, I say—
Think of saving the Soul today:
A Cataclysm approaches fast—
It will sweep away the rotten, fascist past,
Universal, relentless, and blind—
The fool in humility, aligned
To walk the path to a New Hell.
There are Spiritual Realms to dwell,
For universal Resistance, bright
Like a fairy tale, a guiding light.
Sensitive, honest hearts will find
A place in the fight, to heal the mind,
Saving the Soul by this alone—
Listen to the Psyche, in Hell, overthrown.
It’s alchemy—hard to speak,
In the verse so bleak.
Leave the Corrupt Hell behind,
If you are not the evil kind.



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Dream

Strength and skill are fading fast,
Do soap and rope come in a dream at last?
Throw the soap beneath their feet—
They’ll slip and fall, if they’re too weak.

And keep the rope as an excuse,
For when the scum might turn to use,
If they wish to hang us high,
We’ll mark them all, and by and by.



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



Redemption of Sin

"Redemption of Sin"
Like a bridle for a fool,
The priest drives the reins with skill,
Steering foolish souls to Hell,
Where their minds in madness dwell.




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The Donkey's Path

A donkey bound by blinders
Cannot find his way alone.
Only carrots hung as markers
Guide him where he's meant to roam.

Blinders, donkey, dangling carrot—
Tiny world, its narrow track.
And the road to Hell inherits
All delight the carrot lacks.

Half your life, the blinders pressing,
Then you chase the bait ahead.
Through the crowd, no end to guessing—
Hooves will follow where they're led.



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The Machine Allegory

"Coupling," "bushing"—mechanized!
Cretinism supervises,
Hence the engine spins awry,
A park of machines gone awry.

One pump works beyond its bounds,
Pushing down a mix profound—
Fuel to feed cretinism.
Even machines know fascism!



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



A Fool's Saint

There’s saints for all —
For fishers too!
But fools stand tall,
Their plight askew.

Their numbers reign,
No saint in sight!
Yet once again,
They’ll set it right,

By crafting lore,
More books to preach,
Of spirits poor,
To scourge and teach.

Through heresies,
The mind they rend,
With cruel decrees
The fools they bend.




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



Ode to Despair

Bread, deceit, and endless shows—
Despair is trapped where no way goes.
A dead-end cycle, dark and grim,
If you don't follow Evil’s whim.

Without Despair, there's savage scorn,
A madness preached and blindly sworn.
To such delusion, sheep will bow,
Their souls to falsehood's yoke endow.

Loneliness, Despair—Creator's plight,
A path where longing dreams of light.
Yet Light shall shatter the endless snare,
And leave no trace of the lingering despair.




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



To scrape by your entire life?!

Don’t scrape by—defy the fate!
Withdraw decisively, concentrate:
Break free from the asylum’s gloom,
Where they reduce you to a brute.

Futile toil, harsh and grim:
As fools are flogged on someone’s whim—
A bitter struggle to survive.
A lifetime sentence—worldwide!



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



Wild nonsense roams, and countless fools сhase it down

In this mess, the Light reflects —
Swallowed whole by vile profane.
Gaia now, a Planet of Madness,
Truth a road the rare must tread.

For views and likes, the shameless spread
Nauseous trash for all to see,
Pushing Culture toward its death,
And dooming Reason to decree.

Brazen fools, without remorse,
Peddle lies in endless streams;
Evil spins the tons of nonsense,
Fueling all its twisted schemes.

No need to punish, crush, or blame
The honest souls who stand apart;
The filth of shallow, crooked minds
Will rot and tear itself apart.

Beneath the muck, there’s nothing left,
No treasures hidden to unearth.
This nonsense is a real threat
To the consciousness of Earth.



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



Sobriety

To drink ; to forget ;
To wake up... and regret!
From the lifeless cycle
(So many are ensnared!)
There’s a way out – at the threshold.
Through sobriety – to Freedom!



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Oak Cubed

Stupidity cubed. Exponentially —
Baseness, lies, and lawless zeal.
Nonsense and fear grow incrementally,
To insignificance, we seal.

We'll obliterate ourselves with "progress"
In but a fleeting span of time:
It's like a press — relentless, thoughtless,
Draining lifeblood, drop by climb.

We'll extract the square root of existence,
And then repeat the process anew:
From nothingness to sheer persistence —
Were no one, and no one you'll eschew.




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An Old Record of Pseudo-Innovation

"New" is not the better way.
The cunning breed, day after day,
Spins the OLD record, sly and shrill,
Masking rot with "new" goodwill.

Into "novelty," they shove
Vileness, killing truth and love.
The spirit—core of all we learn—
Is placed upon the pyre to burn.

Once, there was a purer time,
Unmasked by deceitful rhyme,
Higher than this "novel lore,"
Where wisdom reigned, now thought's a bore.

And so they press their wretched fare,
Crushing balance, unaware.
Psychic ruin lies ahead—
Full decadence, where reason’s dead.

The mind, beneath the spirit’s reign,
Holds the line 'gainst all profane,
Shielding us from beasts’ embrace,
Strengthening reason’s rightful place.



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Bio-survival Anxiety of Biomass Waste

Tense days for the canned flesh’s plight—
Must endure, must scrape, survive,
Selling souls to darkest fright,
Where lies and fears alone can thrive.

Provocations come with ease,
Like flicked-off rain on careless hand.
In this grim world where virtues cease,
No place for wisdom’s seeds to stand.



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Total Degradation

Degradation: stagnation
Like a dream—madness, frustration,
Lies and fears, a restless haze,
Marking now the final phase.

Or perhaps the point of no returning
Looms ahead, its fire burning—
To Hell’s abyss, a foolish worm,
From this filth, you’ll twist and squirm.



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The First Among Slaves

"The noble mind is worthy of contempt when applied to base purposes."
— Baltasar Graci;n, 17th century


A lofty mind for base pursuits?!
Philosophers often spout nonsense!
For vile aims—a mind that's low.
The focus of bitter thoughts will show,

With longing for the Light above,
The Clear Mind rises. A clever psycho,
Compensating for meanness and lies
With a soul in desolation, deprived,

Will be a mound among the low,
In lies and fear, they rot and grow,
Thinking "success" and gold alone
Are measures of intellect, their throne.

Such creatures always abound, you see,
For when you serve the Pure Mind, truly,
You’re unnoticed in the crowd,
For they are MAD SLAVES, bowed.

To stand "high" among the madmen, though,
One must be persistent and loud,
Stepping on heads without a care,
Indifferent to the Spirit’s flare.

Only the Spirit is the peak.
By serving it, the soul will seek
To soar in Truth's transcendent flight—
Far from the world of foolish blight,

A truth known only to the few.
Indeed, the Mind here’s but a view—
If you take things statistically
And approach all critically.



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Parting

Farewell, unwashed Russia, I depart,
Not long in Hell I played my part.
The uniforms once blue, now dark,
"The people" come, and leave their mark:

Rashism, a parody of Hitler’s play,
Their feeble efforts lead the world astray.
A twisted double in "Putler’s" guise,
A fool’s idol for today's blind eyes.

The fools of old, the Soviets' time,
Now pale in comparison, a joke, a crime.
For now, the masses, heartless and cold,
Are fit for war, their hearts bought and sold.

I’ll hide behind the Wall of Death,
And march through Hell with every breath.
Do we live on Earth? Don’t be deceived,
In Hell we rot—Lies and Evil, we grieve.




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В Мерзости здешнего Ада

Что осталось? Лишь усталость.
Потерпи Мерзоту малость,
Не испытывая жалость,
В Свет уйди, забыв ложь, подлость.

Может Свету близко нету —
Постарайся отыскать:
В Новом Аде пропадать
Средь послушных ТВАРЕЙ бреду?! 




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In the Filth of This Hell

What remains? Just weary sorrow.
Bear the Filth a little longer,
Feel no pity, just be stronger—
Leave for Light, forget the hollow.

Maybe Light is nowhere near—
Try to find it, don’t give in.
Would you waste your soul within
Newborn Hell of beasts austere?!



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Tolerasty

First comes Tolerance—then Frailty,
Selfish, mindless, lost in daily.
Greed and blindness, trust forsaken,
Fear and falsehood rule the shaken.



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YouTube’s Algorithms

Brutal, clumsy—cold and hollow,
Yet enough to block and swallow
Truth, while pushing junk and chatter
To the top—as if it mattered.



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Эго

И сказал Бог: "Возлюби врага своего".
И я послушался его и возлюбил себя.
Халиль Джебран.


Отравленной занозой
Оно в тебе сидит.
Оттуда все угрозы —
Им Дух почти добит,

Коль взять народцы скопом
И оценить сполна.
Короче, мир весь в жопе —
С Духовностью война

Победой ТВАРЕЙ скоро
Закончится. Очнись,
Чтоб личным приговором
Не стать... себе. Борись

Со шкурненьким желаньицем,
Со страхом — эго суть
В обеих — пониманием
Смиряя дичь и муть.

Поможет интроспекция,
Дух, эго разделив.
А дальше вивисекция —
Отрежь гнилой нарыв.

Останутся частицы —
Помогут "выживать":
Кошмары будут снится,
Коль всё не обкорнать.

На пошлом "выживании"
Основан здешний Ад:
Цель — Души на заклание;
Итог — покорный гад.

До этого итога
Осталось лишь чуть-чуть
В мирке тупом, убогом,
Коль главным — эго муть.



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Ego

A poisoned thorn inside you lies,
It digs in deep, unseen.
It clouds your mind with hollow cries,
Till Spirit grows too weak.

Just look—whole nations, blind and lost,
Still march without a clue.
The world is wrecked, the line is crossed—
The Spirit’s war ensues.

Defeat is near, so rise and fight,
Before it's set in stone!
Or else the verdict, cold as night,
Will be for you—alone.

Kill greed, kill fear—those things you chase,
The ego’s twisted core.
Their grip dissolves when you embrace
What lies beyond their lore.

Self-searching is the sharpened knife
To split what’s true and fake.
Then cut the rot—remove the strife,
No matter what it takes.

But even then, you won’t be free,
Some ghosts may still remain.
They'll haunt your nights relentlessly
If all is not restrained.

Survival here is built on lies,
A hollow, soulless game.
They lead your spirit to demise,
Then leave a beast to tame.

That final step is close at hand,
So little time to see.
For in this dull, degraded land,
Ego is king—unchained.



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Заблуждение большое,
Что свободен, коль умён.
"Бытие" кругом гнилое —
Подчинение закон.

Очень умный, то не сможешь
Разложение терпеть.
Из толпы тогда исчезнешь,
Тихо ожидая смерть.

Мир — тюрьма. И в одиночке/у
Скоротаешь ночи, дни.
Но поставят скоро точку
На гнилой тюрьме Огни.

Солнце светит всё сильнее,
Испаряя здешний Ад:
Ад становится подлее —
Чует смерть Верховный Гад.



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Delusion

To think that wisdom sets you free—
A grand delusion, blind.
Decay rules all that you can see,
And chains the sharpest mind.

Too wise? Then you won’t bear the sight
Of rot in every breath.
So, fading from the crowd’s delight,
You'll wait alone for death.

This world’s a prison, cold and grim,
Where days and nights decay.
Yet soon the Flames will burn the dim
And wipe the filth away.

The sun now shines with growing might,
Its blaze will end this Hell.
Yet Darkness writhes in bitter fright—
The Serpent knows it well.



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Убиваемая Красота

"Красота — владычество без охраны".
Карнеад, II-ой век до н.э.


Красота — и нет ограды.
Пошлость топчется по ней —
Всюду торжествуют гады,
С каждым годом гнёт сильней.

Уж ростки одни — в цветочки
Не успеют дорасти.
Всюду обрывают почки
С саженцев:  чтоб в Тьму идти,

Уничтожить всё здесь надо,
Что любым укором Тьме
Восстаёт — продажным гадам
Веселей в одном дерьме.



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Murdered Beauty

"Beauty is dominion without protection."
— Carneades, 2nd century BCE.


Beauty stands with no protection,
Trampled under filth and lies.
Vulgar hands, in cruel procession,
Tighten chains as years go by.

Tender buds will never blossom,
Ripped away before they bloom.
Every sprout is crushed with caution,
Feeding roots of endless gloom.

All must perish, all must wither—
Anything that shames the Night.
Let the vermin reign together,
Drowning beauty out of sight.



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Спящая совесть

"Хорошие друзья, хорошие книги и спящая совесть — вот идеальная жизнь".
Марк Твен.


Коль совесть спит, "друзья" подлюки,
А в книгах чушь — силён расчёт,
Сарказм отброшен — только шутки,
Чтоб бить по цели в недолёт.




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Sleeping Conscience

"Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience—this is the ideal life."
— Mark Twain


When conscience sleeps, your "friends" deceive,
And books spew nonsense, dull yet sly.
No biting wit—just jokes that leave
Their mark too low to hit the sky.



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Чушь и страх — Всемирный Прах:
Не спасёт тебя аллах,
Если будешь подчиняться
И с толпою разлагаться.



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Nonsense and Fear—The World's Decay

Nonsense, fear—the dust of time,
Prayers won’t save you, not divine,
If you bow and drift along,
Letting rot consume the throng.



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



On the Great Path

On the Great Path I stride alone,
Losing all—it's the price to be shown.
Only then, through the cost and the pain,
Can you rise from the Depths once again.



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



The Elephant Unseen

We won’t see the looming beast—
Slavery, lies—too slick to grasp.
Fear will choke our thoughts at least,
Ruled by fiends—Hell’s poisoned dust.



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



The Nation’s Body, or Our Generation

Gangrene of betrayal
Spreads deep in the vein—
The youth, poisoned fatal,
And fascists remain.



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



Fear to Wake

Only terror breaks the spell—
No other way to see.
Drown in madness, face the hell,
To purge the rot and be set free.



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



Катаклизм как средство от Маразма

Атомной войне подобна,
Мерзость Землю задушила:
Нелюдь правит миром злобно,
Превращая чернь в дебилов.

Ложь тотальная как газом
Травит, души разлагая —
В том примером лже-заразы:
Чрез намордник опуская

Ниже плинтуса, низводит
В состояние скота
Очень быстро. Колобродит
Нелюдь ныне неспроста:

Чувствует конец правленья,
Ведь Всемирный Катаклизм
Остановит Разложенье,
Геноцид, Маразм, фашизм.




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



Cataclysm as a Cure for Madness

Like a nuclear inferno,
Evil chokes the Earth in chains.
Monstrous rulers reign in sorrow,
Turning crowds to mindless brains.

Lies, like poison, slowly creeping,
Rotting souls with every breath—
Masks of silence, downward sweeping,
Drag them to the pit of death.

Torn from reason, bound and broken,
Falling fast like soulless sheep.
Tyrants—madness now outspoken—
Know their rule will never keep.

For the End is swiftly nearing,
Bringing doom upon their scheme.
Chaos strikes—a fate unyielding—
Crushing lies, decay, and dreams.



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



All this torment is no jest —
It's the beasts that set the stage.
Like a parasite, they feast,
Draining life with silent rage.



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



Filth and frenzy,
Lies keep spreading.
The more brazen,
The more blatant
Grows their preaching.
Vile and screeching,
Till the herd is drowning deep—
Trust the evil, stay asleep!



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



Guppies

Something enormous is flooding my mind—
Love? Or another deception designed?
Fools disappear into Ignorance deep,
Never aware of the Evil’s grand scheme.

Tend to your small world with “love” and devotion,
Cherish your “friendship” and all that emotion.
Yet in the end, things are “getting much better”
By grinding down souls and minds till they shatter.

Water’s unseen by a foolish small fish,
Glass sets no limit to knowledge it swished.
Lies that are vast are as air—unperceived,
If you are fed and your body’s not grieved.

If walls of a prison enclose all around,
Only a fool sees the world unbound.
All like the guppies have drifted astray—
Slaves, yet too blind to escape or betray.



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



The World Repeats

The world is sick—repeats consume,
Each generation meets its doom.
A plague of lies spreads night and day,
And leaves us slaves who must obey.

Falsehood echoes, loud and clear—
The schemers work to sow the fear,
Erasing truth with every breath,
And binding minds till spirit’s death.

Truth is Spirit—hold it tight,
Through storms of soul, through darkest night.
If mere survival is your goal,
The Dark will surely steal your soul.



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



Stop and think

Heroic effort brings no gain—
This world’s too foolish, dull, and grim.
Genocide is but the chain
That Evil writes for fools like him.

It sets the script—its slaves obey,
Encouraging the idiot throng.
The villains know: the fools won’t stray
But call all madness right, not wrong.

They’ll bow to lies, accept the claim
That “Good” means nonsense, cruel and trite.
The play continues—just the same,
And souls keep dying in the night.

For that’s the plan: let Reason drown,
So fools, consumed by endless lies,
Can turn to cattle, beaten down,
As raving madness multiplies.

Thus, those who think must change their art—
To fight the Dark in smarter ways.
The swine obey the Devil’s heart—
We must not charge into the maze.

First, stop and think—don't just repeat
The blind crusades that failed before.
Or else you'll lead the mindless fleet
To darkness, chaining them once more.



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



Disasters—pros can stage them well,
To keep the slaves in mental hell.
That you’re in deep—no fool will see,
They'll let it slip unconsciously.



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



Labors

To drag a bag of bones once more,
Right to Hell’s ever-open door.
A final "Farewell"—cold, resigned,
For souls enslaved, now work assigned!

Their minds will turn to dust in vain,
The fools will toil, yet reap no gain.
To reach the skies—an easy feat,
For free? And fight the dark? Deceit!

Who'd praise such work? Who'd pay the price?
Who'd toss a fortune—treat it nice?
A slave walks down to Hell's embrace—
There's cash to earn. He’ll find his place...



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



Золотая середина стихосложении

"Самые важные и значительные мысли, откровения, являются на свет голыми, без словесной оболочки: найти для них слова — особое, очень трудное дело, целое искусство. И наоборот: глупости и пошлости сразу приходят наряженными в пестрые, хотя и старые, тряпки — так что их можно прямо, без всякого труда, преподносить публике".
Лев Шестов.


Труд над словом, коль рифмован,
Держит ритм, без дара пшик.
Только в прозе обоснован
Он, упорный. Дар тот сник

В очень многих, самотёком
Что пустили свою жизнь.
То и это очень плохо —
К середине, друг, стремись.



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



Реанимация

"Самая возвышенная цель искусства — заставлять биться человеческое сердце, и так как сердце — центр жизни, искусство должно постоянно находиться в теснейшей связи со всей моральной и материальной жизнью человечества".
Жан Гюйо.


В реаниматоры запишем
Поэта ныне — тяжкий труд,
Ведь сердце в многих бьётся тише,
При жизни очень много мрут,

При этом бодрым оставаясь
В хождении по головам.
Спасёшь коль мало, то, отчаясь,
Ты проклянёшь Гнилой Бедлам

Не раз. Но снова за работу,
Хотя с раскруткою ****ец —
Раскрутят пошлых идиотов,
И Зло большой в том деле спец. 



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



Resuscitation

"The noblest aim of art is making
The human heart still beat and burn.
And since the heart gives life its waking,
Art must to life itself return."
— Jean Guyau (poetic presentation of the statement).


A poet’s now a life restorer—
A heavy burden, hard to bear.
For hearts grow weak, their beats grow poorer,
And many die while breathing air.

Yet many climb, remain unshaken,
Still trampling heads without a care.
Save just a few—then, lost, forsaken,
You'll curse the Rotten Bedlam there.

And yet—again! Though fate is bitter,
And fame’s a game you cannot win.
They praise the fools, they praise the sinners,
For Evil spins the wheel of sin.



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



Путь к Свободе

"Свобода в государстве есть ложь".
Михаил Бакунин.


Главное школа, она обязательна, —
Мифы свободы впендюрят на раз.
Далее СМРАДы весьма основательно
Всех обработают. Ум ясный спас

Только талант, коль критичность врождённа —
Эдаких мало, отсюда Дурдом
Гадкий всемирный. И Зло непреклонно —
Хочет придурков всех сделать скотом.

То показали в говнид чрез намордник,
С ядом уколы впендюрив рабам.
Только вернувшись к тому, что исходно —
К Чистому Духу — разрушим Бедлам.

Ум, что ПОД Духом, единым лекарством
Станет: безумие так усмирять
Можно успешно. Пока ж ТВАРЕЙ царство:
Будут и дальше всех нас разлагать,

Коль не сплотимся, общины построив,
Ложь всю отринув. В решительный бой
С Тьмою стремись, чрез Творенье героем
Став. Чистый Дух поведёт за собой.




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



The Path to Freedom

"Freedom within the state’s a lie."
— Mikhail Bakunin


School is the first step, a law to obey—
Freedom’s a myth they will drill in your mind.
Then comes the Beast with its media sway,
Turning the masses to blind leading blind.

Only the gifted, the sharp and aware,
Born to see through it, escape from the chains.
Few are like this—so the world’s in despair,
Ruled by the Evil that darkens all brains.

See how they showed it—the muzzle, the madness,
Shots filled with poison for slaves to endure.
Only by seeking the Spirit in wholeness
Can we destroy this Bedlam for sure.

Mind under Spirit—our one true salvation,
Healing the madness, restoring the light.
Now, though, the Beast reigns—its foul domination
Rots us, deceives us, and poisons our sight.

Rise and unite, build your kin, break the lying,
Face down the Darkness—create and defy!
Only the Pure Spirit leads the undying—
Heroes are those who refuse to comply.



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



Лепрозорий Душ

Не участвуй в Схемах Зла:
Всё иное путь осла,
Что морковкою ведут,
Часто применяя кнут,

Из Загона на убой.
Только так самим собой
Ты останешься. Зла вой
Всюду — днесь Последний Бой

За спасение Души.
Сохранить же поспеши!
Что бессмертна — это чушь:
Мир сей — лепрозорий Душ.



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



The Leper Colony of Souls

Do not serve the Scheme of Lies—
That’s the path where folly dies,
Chased by "carrots", lashed with pain,
Led to slaughter once again.

Only those who break away
Keep their souls and stand their way.
Evil howls—its endless cry
Marks the fight where spirits die.

Save your soul—don’t waste your breath!
Flee before it sinks in death.
Think it’s deathless? Foolish goal.
This world rots the human soul.



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



Современное "земледелие"

Семена сомнений сеешь —
Плоды Ясности пожнёшь.
Пусть ты сеешь как умеешь,
Главное прополка: ложь

Прёт повсюду — нету спасу!
Прополи, затем опять.
Отдохни, попивши квасу
Отчужденья. Повторять

Это надо — с каждым годом
Возрастает мастерство.
Иль помрёшь, как все, — уродом,
Предавая Естество.


Варианты последней строки:
Разрушая Естество.
Множа ТВАРЕЙ торжество.



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



Modern "Farming"

Sow the seeds of doubt and wonder—
Harvest Clarity in turn.
Sow them freely, yet look under—
Weeds of lies will choke and burn.

Lies grow rampant—never ceasing!
Pull them out, then pull once more.
Drink detachment, find some easing,
Then repeat—like years before.

Year by year, refine your labor,
Sharpen hands and clear your view.
Else you’ll die—a twisted traitor,
Selling Nature for what’s untrue.



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



Drowned in Lies

"Serve a cause!"—they chant and cry,
Preaching duty, selling lies.
Only to your soul comply,
Truth is lost where falsehood thrives.



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



The "Strong" One’s Right to Sink in Filth

Only strength can shake the feeble,
So they serve and bow so low.
Now their "land" is drowning deeper,
Drifting in a stream of woe.

Yet their strength is all for show—
Fools can never see the scheme.
Under Evil’s heel, they grovel,
Calling it "protecting kin."

Guarding lies, they sink in deeper,
Locked in cycles of decay.
Beasts above them know it clearer,
Placing scoundrels in their play.

Round and round—the wheel keeps turning,
Breaking minds, yet still they kneel.
Risk is real, but none discern it—
Filth will swallow those who yield.



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



Контраст Природы и человека

Синее небо.
Жёлтые листья.
И непотреба —
Серые мысли.




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



Contrast of Nature and Man

Blue sky is gleaming,
Leaves turning yellow.
Gloomy and dreaming—
Grey thoughts are mellow.



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



Lubok and the Embodied Phantasmagoria

Catacombs, the bombs exploding—
Hell beneath, the foe confined.
Like a lubok, fear corroding,
Clots of madness choke the mind.

Bosch’s visions turn to breathing,
All around—a living curse.
In the veins of some, blood's freezing,
While for others—lice are worse.

New Bosch paints a demon gloating,
Lice grotesque beneath its claw.
Fools and beasts—lines lost, eroding:
Darkness reigns instead of law.



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



A Gathering in Hell

The "underground hall" stood bare.
One late demon, in despair,
Looked around—no horns in sight.
All on Earth, all joined the fight.

Lucifer expands his keep,
Building Hell in caverns deep.
Satan’s minions now consist
Of fools who serve the dark abyss.

Scratch their “creeds,” and you'll reveal—
Satan’s mark burns bright and real.
Year by year, it spreads anew—
Nothing here can break through.



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



Saving for a Rainy Day

"Save for black day!"—so they preach.
Now it’s here—but fools won't see.
Slaves to evil, dull and meek,
Hoard their lies in misery.

Counting, trusting, full of fear,
Planning decades far ahead.
Yet when shadows gather near,
Falsehoods mark them for the dead.

Darkest day—the mind is dying,
Fading fast, a silent spark.
Most succumb, their souls decaying,
Driven deep to rot in dark.



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



In Hell

Nothing’s here for you to find,
Only loss and wasted time.
Yet you wait—some hope remains...
Till the dark grinds out your veins.



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



All Talk, No Deed

Endless chatter, action—none,
All dissent is dead and gone.
How to break the fascist scheme—
Global lies in foul regime?



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



Ribbons, Wrappers—Child Believes

Bows and wrappers—child believes,
Parents wear no hidden sleeves.
Dad’s so wise, like sages arc—
Takes her strolling through the park.



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



Bhutan is Gone

Bhutan is lost,
Nepal fell too,
Drowned in lies—
No nations true.

Just one world,
A fascist guise,
If you dare
To analyze.

One thing left—
A simple key:
Never lie
To yourself. Be free.



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



Poisons, Lies, and Silent Crimes

Pesticides and toxic sprays,
Fake diseases take the stage.
Cures are poison, deaths are sold—
Cowards watch, their silence cold.



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



След оставить —
Тьму ославить.
И спокойно умереть —
Ярый след тот не стереть.



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



Leave a trace —
Night disgrace.
Die in peace, yet flames remain —
Scorching marks won’t fade or wane.



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



Миф и Явь

"Из того, что всем кажется, что это так, не следует, что это так и есть".
Людвиг Витгенштейн.


Кажется — свободен;
Мнится, что ты жив:
Много Тьмы в уроде,
Ложь в нём как нарыв.

Люди иль нарывы?
Явность или миф?
А "живи счастливо"
Словно Духа тиф?

Рабство, разложенье —
Мира крест и явь.
Продолжай движенье —
Мерзость всю ославь.



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



Myth and Truth

"Just because everyone thinks so, it does not mean it is so."
— Ludwig Wittgenstein


You believe you're free and bright,
Feel alive — but is it right?
Darkness fills a twisted face,
Lies within like foul disgrace.

People — or just festering sores?
Myth or truth behind closed doors?
"Live in joy"— a poisoned breath,
Like a plague that whispers death.

Chains and rot — the world’s own weight,
This is truth — no twist of fate.
Walk ahead and speak out loud,
Damn the filth, expose the shroud.



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



Цепи "законов"

"Когда множатся законы и приказы, растёт число воров и разбойников".
Лао-цзы, V-ый век до н.э.


Усложненье рабства чушью —
Вот "законы" и "приказы".
Ложь, их цепи, губят Души:
Индикатор — лже заразы.

Полицай, чиновник, клоун,
Что политиком зовётся, —
Вор, разбойник. Околдован
Пипл словами — не порвётся

Цепь, к тому же наклепает
Мразь цепей всем новых много.
Зло мирок сей добивает —
Мрачно, гнило и убого,

Душно, дико, безнадёжно —
Приближается Кончина.
И судить всех будет строго
Сатана как бог кретинов.

Не кретинов очень мало,
Их всё меньше с каждым веком:
И Земля во Зле пропала —
Под убогим человеком.

Управляют сатанисты,
Также пишут все "законы".
Их всё больше в мире мглистом —
Духу, Разуму препоны.

Дух храни, всю ложь отринув, —
И минёт Неправый Суд.
Не спасти уже кретинов —
Души в них при "жизни" мрут.



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



Chains of "Law"

"The more laws and orders are made prominent, the more thieves and robbers there will be."
— Laozi, 5th century BCE


Rules and orders, chains of lies,
Binding souls in dark disguise.
Fraud and filth, a slave’s pretense —
Rotting hearts their consequence.

Cops, officials, jesters too,
Politicians—crooks in view.
People, spellbound, stay restrained,
Bound in chains that won’t be maimed.

Wretches forge new chains again,
Spreading ruin, death, and pain.
Darkness swallows all in sight,
World decays in doomed twilight.

Air grows heavy, hope is none,
Judgment nears—there’s no more sun.
Satan, king of mindless fools,
Wields his law, his twisted rules.

Few resist, and fewer stay,
With each century’s decay.
Earth is lost, drowned deep in sin,
Under wretched hands of men.

Fiends now rule and write decrees,
Breeding madness like disease.
Blinding Reason, caging Soul,
Dragging all to their control.

Yet stand firm—let lies be burned,
Lest your spirit be interned.
Fools are lost, they’ve died inside,
Long before their bodies died.



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



Путь к Призрачной Свободе

"Свободным я считаю того, кто ни на что не надеется и ничего не боится".
Демокрит.


Забыв надежды, страх отринув,
Стремись познать Тлетворный Ад,
По силам руша, — нет причины
Терпеть, иначе ты безумный гад.

Свободы вряд ли ты достигнешь,
Но Душу сохранишь в борьбе.
Иначе в Новый Ад ты сгинешь —
Он так нуждается в рабе!

Разрушат этот Катаклизмы:
Предел достигнут — сплошь Маразм.
Мир глупый под пятой фашизма,
"Свободою", как встарь, гордясь.


Вариант: "Предел достигнут — правит Мразь."




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



Path to Illusory Freedom

"I call free the one who hopes for nothing and fears nothing."
— Democritus


Forget your hopes, cast fear aside,
Descend where rotting flames abide.
Break all that binds—no cause to kneel,
Or else you’re mad, a worm of steel.

True freedom’s goal may stay unclaimed,
Yet in the fight, your soul remains.
Submit, and you’ll be lost again—
This hell still thirsts for shackled men.

But storms will tear this world apart,
Its madness pushed beyond the mark.
A foolish realm in chains still proud,
While tyranny proclaims it loud.



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



Тотальное Безумие

"По большому счёту всё — только Безумие; по малому счёту само Всё — не более чем безумие".
Мишель Фуко.


Всё — Безумие. Ты в нём
С детства. С каждым "новым" днём
Умножается оно,
Низводя весь мир на Дно.


Вариант: "Изводя весь мир в Говно."




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



Total Madness

"In the grand scheme, all is Madness; in the small, the whole is but madness itself."
— Michel Foucault


All is Madness—you were born
Bound within its twisted form.
Day by day, it grows, unfolds,
Dragging worlds to depths untold.



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



Продолжение работы
С каждым годом всё трудней —
Всё сильней в душе невзгоды,
Меньше плодотворных дней.

Золотую середину
Ты в усилиях найди.
Пусть напрасно гнёшь ты спину,
Прочь сомненья, Вдаль иди.




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



High School Mental Institution

School’s a madhouse, pure oppression,
Crushing minds that stand untrained.
Lies injected in succession—
Diagnosis: blind and drained.



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



So-Called "Fashion"

Fashion says: "That freakish style!"—
Fools obey without a doubt.
Nature’s voice is met with trial,
Truth is twisted inside out.

In this world of contradiction,
Rags and silk combine as one—
Like a spoon of honey missing
In a broth of grease and scum.



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



Fools Have Strayed

Fools have strayed from Nature’s order,
Lost in troubles, lost in gloom.
Now they kneel, their blind devotion
Offered to the Filth they groom.



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



Stunted Minds in Mothball Haze

Minds stay stunted, wrapped in lies,
Drowned in mothball-scented gloom.
No one dares to rise and fight—
Each must save themselves alone...



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



The Sickness of Repetition

The world is sick — the same refrain,
And generations bear the pain
Of this foul plague, a curse unspoken,
The end result — a slave, heartbroken.

The lie resounds in every hall,
With wretches working to forestall
The truth, erased by cunning schemes,
A shadow cast on fading dreams.

Truth is Spirit — you’re a part,
A spark within your weary heart.
If survival's all you see,
Then Darkness molds your destiny.



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



Presumed as Guilty

Presumed as guilty—such are we,
The spawn of Satan's legacy.
While only few hold God inside,
They face the law, no place to hide...



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



Comparison

Current flows, a changing force,
While Evil’s lies stay fixed in place.
They drag the world to dead remorse,
Till "nations" fade without a trace.



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



To Bleat and Moo

The beastly order shapes the way—
It trains the herd to bleat and moo.
And even minds will go astray
If they embrace the lies of Ruin.

So sharpen doubt, stay bold and wise,
Let intuition be your guide.
Reject the Lie—you’ll rise and rise,
Believe in it—you’re beast inside.



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



Alone and Keen

When you are keen and stand alone,
Your mind and will remain your own.
No brute can break or pull you down,
No fool who rose from bowed-out crowds.

The herd obeys the whip with pride,
But you and it stand far apart.
For slaves will never walk beside
A sharp, original-born heart.



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



A pot of filth, the glaze on top,
With "a thoughtful world" inscribed to stop.
But foolishness, still, by glaze was swayed,
What to do with such shallow charade?



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



7000

Семитысячный стих
Удивительно тих:
Но я не сломался,
Запал ведь остался.

Запал? Так зап`алим
Всю Ложь — под ней пали
На Дно. Избавленьем
Себе — стих, Творенье.

Другому поможет?
Тогда подытожит
Старанья большие,
Наскоки лихие.