The Mouse Psychology

The Mouse Psychology

Hear a lot,
See but rarely.
Stay in silence,
Hate unfairly.

Scorn the closest,
Yet adore
Those whose madness
Fuels the war.

Praise and follow,
Kneel and swallow,
Never dare to
Call a traitor—
Not a parrot,
Not a monkey—
Madness always ends in payment...



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The Cuckoo Lost Its Mind

The cuckoo snapped and chimed away,
Few years for worlds that rot and sway.
Around—fanatics, fools, deceit,
Save your Soul before defeat!

Not with false faith, but knowledge bright—
Though in a world of fascist blight,
They call it "memory" instead,
To crush young Reason till it's dead.

So guard your mind—don’t let it break,
Don’t play it nice with soulless snakes.
Stand up, seek truth, don’t just obey—
It lives inside, not in their fray.



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Pain and Scorn

Poets hold no grand solutions,
Only pain—so let it spread.
They may mock your contribution,
Let them sow their lies instead.

Seeds of evil, sown in treason,
Will take root and rise in time.
Truth must fight—it needs no reason,
Crushing lies is toil, not crime.

Pain’s the fuel, pain’s the fire,
Use it, shape it—make your way.
Demons march at fate’s desire,
Turning "paradise" to gray.

Would you walk with those so hollow?
Doubt it—so embrace the sting.
Poets, gods, and pain—they follow
None but truth—let beggars cling!



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Approval for Anything

Never stand in strong objection,
What they tell you—nod along.
Twists and turns in each direction,
Power slithers, sly and strong.

Yesterday was "No!"—forget it,
Now it's "Yes!" without a doubt.
Fools will cheer and just accept it,
Blind approval wins throughout.

Say a word—they'll bite and sting you,
That’s the way the game is played.
Yet they’ll bribe you, too, to bring you—
Serpents always find their way.



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Mixed Relays and Other "Equal-Gender" Madness

They mix the relays, races, guns,
A world where gender blurs and runs.
And soon they'll lie in pairs to rest—
For "equality" is best.

Not raised in strength, but dragged to dirt,
It’s easier to rule the hurt.
They preach "fair play," yet all the same,
Obedient sheep are clipped and tamed.

They care not for the "equal right"—
Their minds are wrecked, their souls are slight.
With fear and filth, they drag it low—
The world decays with every show.

They've tested this in CowID,
And found how easily you plead.
How few resist, how many bow—
The crawling mass obeys somehow.

Submission walks with madness near,
Two rails—one track that leads to fear.
And when the fools embrace the lie,
How few remain who don’t comply.



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The Poet’s Problem

With no life lived, they dared to write,
Their lines—just fluff for youth’s delight.
"Love" without chains, blind praise of lands…
It’s time to see, to understand!

This world is Hell, decay runs deep,
No time for odes—just wake the sheep!
No whispered songs, no gentle art—
Strike hard with verse, tear lies apart!



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Sports in the Age of the Sheep-Virus

Empty stands, a masked-up face,
Shots enforced—insane embrace.
Dystopia? No, just today,
Where tyrants rule and minds decay.

Fascism spreads across the lands,
Beastly power in their hands.
More to come—don’t be so sure,
Faith now fades, control is pure.



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No Problems at All

A poet’s world knows no distress
When all around is pure unrest.
Though marked for shots in this grim mess,
He speaks—he will not share their rest.

He speaks—while others call it fate,
Their little troubles fade away.
Yet he won’t march with fools who wait,
He walks alone—his own true way.



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Medieval Ways of the Paris Olympics

Three strikes of the staff—
Sheep, onward, march!
Through water, through path,
Race to the arch.

The prize is set—
"The finest sheep!"
Strain and sweat,
The end runs deep.

A rider storms,
The Seine runs red—
Who’ll take their forms
When sheep are shed?..



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Vegetable Farming

The harvest swells, the crops arise—
But stay alert, don’t close your eyes!
What if one bold Cipollino
Sparks a riot in the feeble?

Labeled weed and cast aside,
Drowned in nonsense, justified.
Keeps the cycle nice and clean,
Rotting deep—but all unseen.

Through the ages, through decay,
This "fertilizer" paves the way.
Call it harvest, praise the lie—
Let the veggies dream of "sky"!



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Innovations in Track and Field, and Beyond

The races lost—"humanity"
Reaches its final plea!
Caught in stupidity,
The law is hard to see.

The total chaos, endless,
Is tough to even spot.
For now, no criminal—
Just puppets in their plot.

They speak, but no one listens,
Their "humanism" a lie.
With those who bow to sinners,
The beasts will watch them die.



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The Pitiful "Publishers"

A poet’s book, once prized and bright,
Now just a fee to fill the pike.
So much nonsense, so much trash,
In a world where dreams all crash!

Poets are poor when truth they seek,
Lost in the dark, the future bleak.
Forget your boast, don’t play the fool—
They’ll push us down and drown us cruel.

Soon we’ll sink in propaganda,
As oceans rise and drown the land.
That "publisher"—just another pawn,
In a gang that sweeps all light gone.



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"Gender Equality"...

But they are not the same!
Fools are multiplied
By this toxic flame…



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The Beast Crawls Through the Screen

The beast crawls through the screen—
A sheep believes in "history" obscene.
And further still, it’s clear to see—
The death of FREEDOM’s mind will be.



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Preparing Vegetables

Archery’s new star, Cipollino,
A fool now—just another hero.
A simple VEGETABLE, he stares,
Believes in madness, opens lairs.

This is how they make a Salad—
A world of minds so dim and pallid.
Inject the poison, send them to fight,
Only VEGETABLES deserve the night.



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Suffocation by "Cares"

No need for "cares" or efforts grand,
To "improve"—a sheep’s life, dull and bland.
What they showed us in the time of CowID—
The bought and sold will bleat and heed.



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The "Employment" Medal

Listen close, and you will find,
A reward of the simplest kind:
"Give the fools more work to do!"
That’s the medal given to you.



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The Horseman of the Apocalypse at the Paris Olympics Opening

The strongest... fool, indeed:
Games to please the "crowd's" greed!
The beastly Horse he did display—
But may this madness fade away.
They still believe, as always done,
In what the masters say is "won."
The flag he bears, it’s all a joke—
Turned upside down—yet none will choke,
For what is wrong, they won’t see clear—
It’s just a "mistake," they cheer and jeer.
The world’s gone mad in this decay,
The fool’s the sport, it’s here to stay.
But the fool, so strong and tough,
Will run and fight—just can't get enough.
And soon enough, he'll race his way—
Straight to Hell, where fools will stay...



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Modern Cain and Abel

Cain’s the master, Abel’s slave,
The world’s grown weak, the spirit’s grave.
Mind’s a wreck, a shattered glass,
But who cares? Just stack the cash!



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Branded Cattle

Branded stock—
A world of fools to walk.
Where to go?
From here, just let it go...



--- Total 20 poems. ---