To have is never worth the fight —
Know stillness. That alone is light.
-------------------------
Armageddon
Walk ecstatic, sharp, and clear —
Cast away the lies and fear.
Things are dire, truth is thin —
So let intuition in.
Fascist waves and mass disease,
Genocides in white IDs.
Morons rule in every zone —
See through Spirit’s prism stone.
Molded thoughts are dead and gone.
And when flames of war are on,
When the world is torn and split —
Purge the fear. Don't bow. Commit.
Face the horror, bold and bright,
Though it cycles, masks as right.
This disgrace repeats again —
Here, “the god” is Satan’s name.
-------------------------
Satan wears the godly cloak —
Spits out death and calls it hope.
If you see — then stand and burn.
This dark cycle must not turn.
-------------------------
The Finish
To coast “on autopilot” down,
Till all your troubles wear and drown —
And break apart at finish line,
No torment left, no harsh design.
-------------------------
The Finish
Coast easy, no more fight,
Crash at end — no fear, no plight.
-------------------------
1.
Glide to end without a scream —
No more battles, just a dream.
2.
Drift and break with quiet grace —
No regrets to trace.
3.
Finish line — no fight, no cries,
Just the calm of last goodbyes.
-------------------------
A Dog’s Life
Like dogs who wag their tails in line,
Ready to serve each harsh command,
You’ll find a “heaven” so divine —
Where “Fetch!” becomes the master’s brand.
That worship soon will be your fate,
A final day of dark control.
When evil claims the bowing state —
And bends the spirit, breaks the soul.
-------------------------
A Dog’s Life
Wag your tail and obey the call —
Bow to evil, lose it all.
-------------------------
Alienation
Unyielding stance, estranged from all,
To Pure alone you heed the call:
A spotless world — or play the fool,
No middle ground, no easy rule.
Only creation’s sacred fire
Surpasses mere desire.
Take up that path — the price is grave:
Alive in grave, none can save.
The dead surround, infest the scene,
Submit — and you become obscene.
Cast off the lies, walk deep within,
To Light the only way to win.
Light’s inside, not out in sight.
To grasp this truth, endure the fight —
You must be born for such a plight:
Reborn in Hell’s mad endless night.
-------------------------
Alienation
Stand alone — embrace the pure.
Or be fooled, lost and obscure.
---
Creation’s path means living death —
Alive in grave, betrayed by breath.
---
Dead surround, obey — you’re scum.
Truth is light — no place for some.
---
Born for madness, hell inside,
Only fools run from that ride.
-------------------------
Twist and Crush!
Twist always, twist everywhere,
Spread fear and lies, poison the air.
Keep slaves tight, the leash is thin —
No struggle here, just cheat and win.
Lie thrice over, cage the sharp,
Strike the weak, tear them apart.
Divide and conquer — that’s the art,
Torture fear, not pain, to start.
Embrace the world with choking dread,
Turn all to dust where fear has spread.
When all believe and run in fright —
Control is gained, it’s just that slight.
-------------------------
Twist and Crush
Twist, twist, tighten every chain,
Feed the fear, spread lies like rain.
---
Divide the sharp, enslave the weak,
Torture minds — no pain to seek.
---
Fear controls the world, that’s how—
They obey, they break, they bow.
-------------------------
The Gospel of the Sea,
or Parables from the Cauldron
(A Modern Scripture in Boiling Brine)
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT
Grabbing Reflexes
Crab-work, claw-shift —
Still grabbing away.
One sacred myth:
You don’t have enough today.
A crustacean nation —
Grab fast, grab blind.
But those with some vision
Are rare to find.
A plague in the water,
The trap is a lie —
And lies grow fatter
While the smart ones die.
They’re caught, then they're boiled,
Like frogs, slow to flee —
The flames barely coiled,
So mild — they agree.
“Jacuzzi!” they cheer,
As they bubble and choke.
Keep grabbing, old dear —
You’ll vanish in smoke.
---
Claws keep grabbing — blind and proud.
Soon you’ll boil beneath the crowd.
---
Your claws clutch lies, your pride is fat —
But truth cracks shells. Remember that.
---
The Gospel of the Crab
And lo! The Crab did claw, and call it life.
It seized, it pinched, it praised the strife.
"To grab is truth! To hoard is right!
The deeper the pit, the less the light."
But the Sea, once silent, grew aware —
Of shells that echoed empty prayer.
And fire rose not from wrath divine,
But from within — the boiling brine.
They called it comfort. Called it gain.
While inch by inch, they steamed their brain.
“Rejoice!” cried one with bloated breath,
"Jacuzzi justice conquers death!”
And none but few escaped that creed —
Those not born of claw and greed.
So hear, you sons of snapping pride:
Truth is not caught. It turns the tide.
---
I. The Crab's Gospel
At first — just grab, the claw is law.
What’s caught is yours, what’s lost — withdraw.
The world’s a shell, the soul’s denied,
Your belly’s full — no need to hide.
II. The Song of the Boiled Frog
See how warm the water’s glow,
Soft waves that soothe but never flow.
They say it’s not a fiery pit —
Just spa lights dancing — you’re alright.
III. The Fume Sermon
What’s gripped tight burns within your chest,
What slips away is just a jest.
“You’re divine,” the shepherd cries —
“Hold faith tight, ignore the lies.”
IV. The Parable from the Cauldron
The end arrives — no shout, no smoke,
Just crabby scent in waters soaked.
The tale is told, the claws grow cold —
A life consumed, a truth untold.
---
The Crab's Gospel
At first — just grab! The claw is law,
What’s caught is yours, no need to draw.
The world a shell, cold, cracked, and dry —
No soul to hear, no tears to cry.
Your belly’s full — the heart is numb,
The blind obey the deafening drum.
No thought beyond the grasping pain,
The shallow pool, the shallow gain.
“More, more!” the claws declare their right,
In shadows long without a light.
A prison built of greed and spite —
Where darkness claims the day as night.
The crab, the master, snaps and grins,
Blind to the doom his clutch begins.
And those who rise beyond the claw
Are crushed beneath its iron law.
---
The Boiled Frog’s Song
Welcome, friend, to warming waves,
Where comfort lulls and silence saves.
No need to struggle, no need to fight —
Just bask and soak in gentle light.
The water’s warm, the bubbles cheer,
No threat, no pain — why fret or fear?
They say it’s not a pot but spa,
A sanctuary — ha, ha, ha!
Each inch you sink, each slow descent,
Is progress in this warm event.
“Relax, breathe deep,” the voices say,
“Here pain dissolves and fades away.”
But subtle fire creeps unseen,
Behind the scenes, a deadly scheme.
The comfort’s mask, the sweet deceit —
The boil beneath your sinking feet.
So sip your bliss, so soft, so slow,
Enjoy the warmth, let wisdom go.
For in this spa, you’re not alive —
You’re just the stew they’ll soon contrive.
---
Sermon of the Haze
“Believe!” they cry — “You’re saved, you’re pure!
The path is clear, your fate is sure.”
But blindfolds wrap your waking mind,
And chains of faith you’re taught to bind.
The shepherd’s voice is velvet steel,
His words — a trap you’re doomed to feel.
He sells you lies dressed as the truth,
And steals the fire from your youth.
The masses kneel, their eyes glazed o’er,
Drunk on slogans, craving more.
No questions asked, no soul to seek —
Just hollow prayers, weak and meek.
The haze surrounds, it clouds the day,
It steals your sight, it leads astray.
Yet still you chant in dazed refrain —
“Save me from doubt! Embrace the chain!”
---
The Parable from the Cauldron
The cauldron boils, the shadows creep,
No angels sing — just secrets deep.
The claws that grasped, now cold and cracked,
The souls that thrived — all crushed, all sacked.
The brew of lies, the poison’s sting,
No hope remains, no dawn to bring.
The final call — the bitter cry,
The world dissolves beneath the sky.
No savior comes, no mercy’s breath,
Just silent echoes of slow death.
A tale of grasp, of greed, of pain —
The cauldron’s curse remains, remains.
---
The Cold Voice
Observe the stew — a brew well-made,
With greed and lies, the pot’s been laid.
The players dance, the claws still snap,
While hope’s a ghost, a fading gap.
No grand salvation, no bright dawn,
Just endless cycles, dusk till dawn.
The fool applauds, the wise withdraw,
All trapped within the ceaseless law.
Yet here I stand — detached, austere,
No hope to feed, no scalding fear.
Just witness to this endless game,
Where nothing’s new — and none to blame.
So pour your brew, embrace the flame,
The cauldron bubbles just the same.
And when it’s done — no crown, no throne,
Just ashes cold, and dust alone.
---
Summary
Claws grip lies, the fools comply,
Boiled in comfort, blind to die.
Faith’s false chains enslave the mind —
Break the spell, or fall behind.
-------------------------
Dedicated to Tarthang Tulku
Tulku’s genius cuts through lies —
Shadows dressed as grand events.
Time transcended, mind denies
What no thought can recompense.
Daring leaps and intuition,
Thrust toward a brighter sphere,
Shatter logic’s superstition —
Gray illusions we revere.
-------------------------
The Passing of Crap Through the Ages
Dreams and myths — a base of lies.
Truth is darkness. Watch it grow:
Fascism in fresh disguise,
Once the fools are gone — new show.
-------------------------
Myths reborn, the rot repeats.
Dead fools rise in fascist sheets.
-------------------------
Dharmas? Armies.
Dharmas? Karmas?
Just more barracks.
Caged parade — a world of hacks.
Scum play generals in their garb —
You serve time in deathless tracks.
Hell’s the norm. You die — you’re back,
Born again into the trap.
One vow left: revolt, attack.
New World's promise? Just a trap.
If you're filth and die a slave,
You’ll just stain the world again.
Shake the rot off while you live —
Intuition fights the chain.
Smash the lie — start with your own.
That’s the only purge that sticks.
Burn the shadows, face alone —
Be no coward. Kill the tricks.
-------------------------
Truth is war — begin inside.
Burn the filth your fears would hide.
-------------------------
Fail to purge — you’ll serve again.
Hell reborn will wear your name.
-------------------------
The “Citizen”
The “citizen” was born half-blind —
No mind at all, for who needs mind?
And should one spark begin to grow,
They’ll crush it fast, and make it slow.
The schools are traps, the lessons lies,
A twisted breed their plan supplies,
To raise him dumb and sacrifice —
A slave to feed the mouth of vice.
Why waste on guns or trigger men,
When lies are cheaper, deadlier then?
Their weapon: fear, instilled from birth —
To shake and bow, to doubt all worth.
-------------------------
Where truth is feared and minds are chained,
The meek march in — already trained.
-------------------------
<h3 class="ttrv1 anaangl">Ego
Ego’s a label. But the threat
It brings is real — don’t you forget.
If ego plays “supreme command,”
The end’s an idiot, on brand.
The mind is second. Spirit reigns —
The one who dares must break the chains.
The ego’s place? A bug in soup,
No sugarcoats — just truth, no loop.
It thrives in fights, in dumb disputes,
Among its kind — the harshest brutes.
It claims to be your truest core,
Yet mimics parts and nothing more.
It’s bolts and screws in some machine.
So shut it down — and keep it clean.
Through Spirit’s force, reduce the mess —
You'll see the truth. No more, no less.
The Spirit leads. Thought should obey.
But ego leads the mind astray.
Through ego comes that fatal blur
Where all turns rotten — yes, for sure.
The world is rot. Most people? Loud
And ego-deep — a stinking crowd.
These yapping clowns, with every breath,
Declare that “I” outshouts all death.
But “I” is fake — a fleeting glitch
In this MECHANICAL-made pitch.
The Spirit’s vast. The shell’s a fake —
A mind that bows to ego’s ache.
css/319_2
-------------------------
1.
Ego’s a bug in your brain’s old code —
Cut it out, or explode.
2.
Ego shouts: “I!” — but it’s just a glitch.
Spirit’s the power. Kill the snitch.
3.
Your “I” is rust on Spirit’s flame.
Crush it — and rise beyond the game.
4.
It’s not “yourself” — it’s just a mask.
Smash ego. Wake. Complete the task.
5.
Ego’s a leash. You think you lead?
It walks you — while you bleed.
6.
Ego’s a parasite dressed as king.
Bow to the Spirit — or rot in the ring.
7.
That voice in your head? It’s not you — it's a lie.
Spirit is silent. Let ego die.
8.
Your “identity”? Just noise and smoke.
Burn it down — before you choke.
9.
Ego’s a clown in a godless play.
Tear off the mask — or waste your day.
10.
You think you're free? That “I” is a chain.
Spirit breaks through. Let ego wane.
-------------------------
THE TRILOGY OF AWAKENING
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT
<b>1. ANTI-EGO MANIFESTO</b>
The Spirit roars. The Lie must fall.
You are not the echo in your head.
You are not the name you defend.
You are the Flame before the word.
You are the Silence that has heard.
Ego is noise.
Spirit destroys.
“I” is a glitch.
Burn the switch.
You are not thought.
Spirit is not bought.
Mask off.
Lie dead.
Ego’s a leash.
Spirit is breach.
No throne for slime.
Spirit is prime.
Don’t follow “me.”
Be wild. Be free.
Kill the script.
Let Spirit lift.
Silence is fire.
Ego’s a liar.
“I” is a cage.
Break the stage.
Drop the role.
Find the Whole.
Thought obeys.
Spirit stays.
“Self” is a brand.
Spirit’s unplanned.
You are more
Than ego’s war.
Ego is ash.
Spirit will flash.
The voice says “Me” —
It’s slavery.
The louder the “I,”
The deader the sky.
Ego is rust.
Crack it to dust.
The “self” you know —
A puppet show.
No “I” survives
Where Spirit drives.
Pride is a chain.
Snap it. Reign.
The faker the pose,
The deeper it grows.
Don’t seek a name.
Ignite the flame.
Ego shouts “win!”
While rotting within.
Thought is a tool.
Ego’s a fool.
You were the fire —
Before the liar.
What you defend
Is not your end.
Forget your face.
Unfold the Space.
Spirit speaks low.
Ego says “Go.”
No mask remains
When Spirit reigns.
This is not rebellion.
This is return.
Burn the noise.
Let the Fire burn.
<b>2. THE LIE BETWEEN</b>
Where Shadows breed, and Truth is chained.
Between the Flame and Echo lies
A ghost — a mask — a dark disguise.
The space where whispers twist and spin,
The silent war that rages within.
The Lie is neither flesh nor bone,
It dwells inside — yet stands alone.
It’s not the Ego’s boast or pride,
Nor Spirit’s flame that won’t subside.
It’s that thin veil, the cursed seam,
The gap between the Thought and Dream.
It’s in the doubt, the mind’s unrest,
The place where Truth is dispossessed.
It feeds on fear, on false delight,
The endless day that hides the night.
The Lie divides what once was One,
A fracture where the light is none.
It spins a web of “I” and “You,”
A prison forged in what’s untrue.
The Lie corrupts the sacred thread,
Turns wisdom’s voice to hollow dread.
It whispers “Separate, be lone,”
Yet binds us all with chains unknown.
Between the spirit’s boundless sea
And ego’s harsh captivity.
The Lie is shadow’s cruel dance,
A phantom’s cold, seductive trance.
It thrives in silence, yet speaks loud,
A shroud disguised as shining cloud.
It masks the fire with false control,
A counterfeit of every soul.
To break the Lie, one must confront
The darkest hour, the final hunt.
No fear, no flinch — just steady gaze,
Until the Lie dissolves in blaze.
The Lie between is not your friend,
It’s where illusions never end.
It poisons thoughts, and clouds the sight,
Keeps spirit chained in endless night.
But in that gap, a spark remains —
A flicker fierce, beyond the chains.
To pierce the Lie, to walk between,
Is to reclaim what lies unseen.
The Lie between must burn away,
So Spirit’s truth can hold its sway.
The Lie between is not the end —
But crossroads where we must transcend.
Face it, break it, and arise —
To find the fire behind your eyes.
<b>3. PRO-SPIRIT MANIFESTO</b>
The Fire behind the Form. The One before the Name.
I am not what I think.
I am what burns thought.
I am not the mirror.
I am the light it forgot.
I am the Flame
before the game.
I am the Stillness
inside the storm.
I walk without mask.
I am the Form.
I am not sound.
I am the Ground.
I hold no face.
I am the Space.
I am not “I” —
I am the Eye.
I don’t believe.
I am the weave.
Thought is my servant.
Will is my flame.
I do not seek —
I am the Name.
I breathe through all.
I rise when called.
I shine through flesh.
I am not bound.
I am the Pulse
beneath all sound.
I do not end.
I don’t begin.
I was before
the fall of skin.
I fear no death.
I am the Breath.
I am the spark
that breaks the dark.
I am the flame
you cannot name.
I walk through night
as Living Light.
I am the wave
that won’t behave.
I speak in signs
between the lines.
No god owns me.
No cage contains.
I am the Root
of all remains.
I rise, I break,
I am the Wake.
I am not born —
I am the Torn.
I hold the seed
of every need.
No crown I wear,
but I am air.
I am the Drum
before it’s struck.
I am the Source —
not thought, not luck.
I do not yield.
I am the Field.
I do not bow.
I am the Now.
Not a soul to be saved —
but a Fire to be known.
Not a self to be healed —
but a Spirit fully grown.
-------------------------
ZomboJunk
Junk is eternal,
Junk is the law.
Feeling infernal?
Eat one more slaw.
Switch on the Box —
The sacred machine:
You are the Fox!
Nah. Just routine.
They’ve got your key
In the ZomboChest.
Happiness? Eat.
And doubt? Repressed.
-------------------------
ZomboBox screams:
"Eat. Obey."
You sell your soul
For junk each day.
-------------------------
“The Tiny Orchestra of Hope”
conducted by pure idiocy
The tiny band of Hope plays on,
Conducted by a babbling freak.
No place for hope — it’s dead and gone
In Bedlam, dull and gray and bleak.
Bedlam’s a sewer, stinking, poor —
A dunce still hopes. The rest just spit.
One reflex left: to puke once more
At all this rotten, plastic shit.
-------------------------
Hope leads the blind —
straight into bile.
The sane just gag
at all this vile.
-------------------------
Rotten Apples from the Withered Tree of Knowledge
We ooze in half-thought idiocy,
Crawling down a dying tree —
The Tree of Knowledge, dry and dead,
Where intuition's light has fled.
No fresh insight, no revelation —
Just blind faith in imitation.
Lies are now the sacred norm,
Mind — the last to take the storm.
We snout through rot with eager feet,
Sniffing every wormy treat —
Eden’s apples, foul and mush.
Mindless — just a walking husk.
-------------------------
Eden rots.
We grunt and chew.
No Mind remains —
Just swine in view.
-------------------------
The Infantile Sandbox
Thrown in like tanks into the sand —
That’s your infantile land.
The wounded crawl, the games went wrong,
No lesson learned, it's been too long.
The scripts are dumb, the stench is real,
A reek of rot no lie can seal.
Grey-haired morons, blank inside —
Their Spirit smothered, crushed by pride.
These aging children rot in place,
And dumber grows the human race.
The sandbox now — a filthy cage
Where idiots squeal and cowards rage.
Traitors sit drooling in the grime —
The decent ones? Extinct with time.
Their games are now grotesque, obscene —
The end is near. Death wipes it clean.
A traitor-fool has no more role
In sand or burrow, numb of soul.
-------------------------
A sandbox full
of dead-eyed clowns.
The traitor chokes —
and wisdom drowns.
-------------------------
Lies and the Legion of Fools
Hitler, Goebbels — now it’s Vlad,
Dugin’s mind-rot, twice as bad.
Ideas rot, but crowds obey —
Marching proudly into clay.
Dumb them down and feed them lies —
You can rule them, hypnotize.
“Tricking me is not so hard” —
Thinking’s tough. It leaves you scarred.
So the bastards chew and spit
Satan’s puzzles, bit by bit.
New-age murder, wrapped and sold —
That’s the meaning, dark and cold.
Kill with CowID, kill with war,
Just keep lying more and more.
Herd the morons into lines —
March of death in grand designs.
-------------------------
Lies go viral.
Fools obey.
Marching straight
to Hell — hooray.
-------------------------
A Choice: Execution or Death
An invite to the gallows feast —
Accept the filth. Obey the Beast.
Endure the Evil? You're its kin.
All rot begins with silent sin.
Believe the lie? Then join the dead —
A zombie, slowly in the head.
Trust fake "science"? Then, for sure,
You’ll be labeled: hopeless, pure.
Don't believe. Don’t kneel. Don’t bow.
Fight the monstrous lie — and how.
Escape the noose? Not quite, my friend —
But Death will hold you in the end.
-------------------------
Endure the lie —
you crawl and rot.
Resist — and Death
at least is not.
-------------------------
The Dead Ones
A rotting fish just rides the stream,
The dead drift by in lies and dream.
The living soul — a freak, a spark
In zombie fog and dead-man's dark.
The fish will feed the hatchlings' tide,
Its corpse will serve — then turn aside.
But zombies, dull and reeking dread,
Spread rot and poison as they tread.
This stinking world’s a reek machine,
Mass-breeding dead for the death routine.
Ugly rules, the oath is sworn:
"Kill all life — let beasts be born."
-------------------------
The dead decay.
The filth expands.
While beasts parade
with rotting hands.
-------------------------
The Final Turn
The battle horn is drowned —
Now memes replace the cry.
The slaves all kneel, spellbound:
"Just trust!" — the core of lies.
Trust monsters. March with pride
To "treatment" masked as fate.
Be brave — yet crawl and hide,
Just trust... and urinate.
The world’s a madhouse zone,
Where goats lead donkeys blind,
Into the slaughter-zone —
A camp for broken minds.
The final turn draws near…
To what? You think it’s grace?
The fool injects his fear,
Then stumbles into place.
March on — just trust and shake,
You’re almost at the brink.
While Hell counts every ache
You twitch through as you sink.
-------------------------
“Trust and obey!”
the demons hiss.
The grave’s one step
from cowardice.
-------------------------
Grief and Conscience
To drown your grief in booze —
Just piss into your brain.
Why not let truth abuse
Your lies with sacred pain?
The lash — a Spirit’s string,
So fine it’s barely heard.
But still it dares to sting
The mind with silent word.
This war is waged to crush
The strings that point above.
Yet through the noise and hush
Still rises purest Love.
No vodka lifts your soul —
It only drags you low.
But conscience takes its toll —
To skies it bids you go.
-------------------------
Booze pulls you down.
The lash lifts up.
Conscience is pain —
but it's the cup.
-------------------------
Virotrash
Virotrash infects the air,
Crushes every vacant head.
Tyrants find their servants where
Fake “scientists” are led.
He’ll “discover” what’s not real,
Prove it to the foolish crowd.
Sanity’s a rare ordeal
In this Bedlam, dumb and loud.
-------------------------
Viro-fear,
idiot’s law.
Lies appear —
and fools go "Aww."
-------------------------
Creations
Petty, vile, and mean in kind,
Stupidity and madness bind.
We’re “godlike” beings? Hell, no way —
When madness rules and fascists play.
Satan’s march, betrayal’s grind,
Lies made labor, fools aligned.
Talk of “resurrection” sounds?
No — those bastards all will drown.
-------------------------
Petty beasts in godlike guise —
Madness reigns, the devil lies.
-------------------------
To the Propaganda Consumer
The propagandist screams — but that’s no sign
That terror came along with their shrill whine.
The agenda’s set — obey the call,
To dumb us down, embraced by Satan’s thrall.
The media’s grip—no news to those
Who still keep thinking as their mind still grows.
Lies, fear, betrayal, vile disgrace—
This toxic smoke is all they place.
-------------------------
Propaganda shouts,
but don’t you fall—
The lies and fear
will claim us all.
-------------------------
A Fool’s Life Work
"An ancient sage once said:
‘Only fools perform outside-directed tasks.’"
— Linji, 9th century
A fool’s life work —
This burden’s never light:
Bruises everywhere,
The mind’s the only fight.
If the head is cracked,
And chaos rules the throne,
That problem in the mind
Can’t be solved alone.
The fool was taught to grieve
Only outwardly,
So crowds stay easy led,
Slaves crushed endlessly.
Boldly turn inside —
All answers lie within.
But Bedlam fights that truth,
To keep fools locked in sin.
Trained, bound in forgetfulness,
In weeds of age-old times,
When minds still had their value —
Now lost in empty rhymes.
-------------------------
Fool’s burden — bear it tight,
Mind your wounds, fight the fight.
Outside grief will never heal,
True escape’s inside, real.
-------------------------
All poems are located at address https://vykhovanets.yzz.me