Sometimes — or Almost Always?
“Men believe their minds command the words.
But sometimes words turn sharp against the mind.”
— Francis Bacon, centuries behind.
The naïve “old school” once held sway,
Fascists left that far away:
The root of chaos — words they wield,
A twisted power now revealed.
With methods cold and cunning, they
Bend all but few, who won’t decay.
Madness spares a chosen few,
While others fall — deceived, subdued.
-------------------------
Beekeeping and Mankeeping
“Life’s a blend of honey and of gall.”
— Lucius Apuleius, ages past and all.
Beekeepers know — today’s sweet gold
Is not the same as tales of old.
While in our veins the bitterness chills,
Poisoned blood flows through human wills...
-------------------------
The Foul Breath of Half-Realities
“The present breathes upon us, hard and close.”
— Miguel de Unamuno, truth verbose.
A stench that lingers, harsh and deep,
Through media’s torture, lies they keep —
“Reality” ruled by evil’s hand,
A shadow dark across the land.
-------------------------
Generations of “Wise Men”
“The true wise man: bows to kings so sly,
He shows his ass to those nearby.”
— Stanisław Jerzy Lec
Generations called “wise” —
No ends, no starts, no rise,
Where lawlessness took root and spread.
Their “wisdom” screams: “I’m flesh, not head!”
Spirit caged, conscience fallen low,
Beneath the floor, it’s lost its glow.
The best is gone or trapped and thrown —
Degenerates, beasts, upon the throne.
-------------------------
Blurring Lines Between Dead and Living
"Restraint is owed more to those who hear bad things of themselves than to those who get stones thrown."
— Antisthenes, 4th century BC
Tolerance? The sane will throw the stones,
It’s not the first time — they defend their bones.
Restraint’s for those who bend the knee,
Stand up to Evil if you’re free!
Tolerance feeds the dead, not the alive,
The world shakes with the dead’s contrived.
But lines erased by fools’ new creed —
No difference now, just endless greed.
-------------------------
Blurring the Dead and Living
“Restraint’s for those who hear foul words,
Not for those who get stones hurled.”
— Antisthenes, long ago
Tolerance? The sane will stone —
They guard their bones, defend their own.
Restraint’s a chain for those who kneel —
Fight the Evil — spit and steel!
Tolerance’s gift to the dead,
The world now shakes on rotting thread.
Lines erased by fools’ disgrace,
No life, no death — just empty space.
-------------------------
Dead or Alive?
Tolerance? For dead men’s breath.
Fight or rot — there’s no half-death.
-------------------------
Bones and Flesh
Dead men shake — they beg for peace,
Living fight — or find their cease.
-------------------------
New Creed
Stones fly at the truthful few,
Dead just smile — what can they do?
-------------------------
Silent War
Dead don’t fight — they just decay,
Living roar — break chains today.
-------------------------
Fools’ Creed
Dead hearts cold, their silence loud,
Living stand, unbowed, unbowed.
-------------------------
Stone Throwers
Truth gets stones from tongues of spite,
Dead just vanish in the night.
-------------------------
Silent War
The dead don’t fight — they rot, decay,
Their silence feeds the living’s fray.
But we who breathe and feel the fire,
Must rise again, must climb up higher.
No chains can bind the roaring heart,
No darkness break the fearless part.
In silent war, the living wage —
A battle fierce, a breaking cage.
-------------------------
Fools’ Creed
Cold hearts of stone, dead souls that sleep,
Their silence loud, their secrets deep.
But living blood beats strong and free,
Defying all that fools decree.
The creed of fools — to bow and fade,
While truth and spirit are betrayed.
But we remain unbent, unbowed,
Alive and fierce against the crowd.
-------------------------
Stone Throwers
Truth is tossed by tongues of spite,
Thrown like stones in darkest night.
The dead just fade, they do not stand,
But living souls must make their stand.
In faces harsh and voices cruel,
The stones of lies become the rule.
But stones may bruise, yet cannot break —
The spirit’s fire no lies can shake.
-------------------------
Sheep and Lies
What you feed the sheepish brain
Will forever rot inside it.
Trash and lies—its favored grain;
It devours, and stands beside it.
Dare to challenge all that mess—
Drop a doubt into their bubble—
You’ll be labeled: spawn of stress,
Enemy, and cause of trouble.
They were trained to snarl and bite,
Taught to hate on full ignition.
All of it—indoctrined right,
Lies remain their top tradition.
-------------------------
1.
They were bred to chew on lies —
Truth just makes them demonize.
2.
Lies — their gospel, hate — their law.
Doubt? They’ll rip you with a "baa."
3.
Truth is poison to the herd.
Baa and hate — their sacred word.
4.
They were shaped by filth and fear.
Feed them truth — they’ll bite your ear.
-------------------------
Minefields
The path is hard — a field of mines,
Where few survive to reach the end.
And end means not release or signs
Of peace — just more fields round the bend.
By halfway, most are blown apart —
And that’s just one field, not the sum.
Each soul gets mines to match their heart?
No — ten at least. And more will come.
How many fields in Hell like these?
No one can count, or dares to try.
But no matter the pain, disease —
Compared to what’s ahead, it’s nigh.
So go. Move on. Don’t trust the names —
They call them "honor," "duty," "fame."
The fields are lies. And lies bring flames —
They’ll gut you fast, then shift the blame.
But death is better than the fate
Of those who plant the mines and grin.
For most here serve — they mine for hate,
And that’s the deepest, final sin.
-------------------------
1.
Better dead than planting lies —
Miners thrive where spirit dies.
2.
Each step's a mine. They call it "duty."
But it's just death, dressed up as beauty.
3.
Most lay traps — and call it fate.
Few walk through. Most learn to hate.
4.
The minefield smiles. Obey — or rot.
You're nothing if you toe their plot.
-------------------------
1.
You cross through Hell — and Hell's not done.
Each field denies the rising Sun.
2.
Beyond all mines — the mind breaks free.
But most just rot in "loyalty."
3.
They walk through fire, proud and blind.
But death is mercy to the mind.
4.
You are the spark — or you're the trap.
The soul decides: break through — or snap.
-------------------------
The Blind Spot of Slavery in the Half-Awake
"From petty faults, we slide with ease
Into great crimes."
— Seneca, 1st century CE
A "tiny mistake"?
Obeying the Night.
In a world so fake,
That “fitting in” feels right.
Then spreads like a stain
In the mind’s domain —
The Depths of the World
Become the new sane.
If slavery’s everywhere,
Then it must be fine.
The will to care
Drowns in the slime.
The herd chews lies
'Til they feel like peace.
What the mind denies —
The rot won't cease.
That spreading spot
Erases the head.
Where Truth is not,
New wars are bred.
They showed the muzzle,
The poison shot —
And praised the puzzle
Where obedience rots.
He "survived," the fool —
But lost his flame.
The stain now rules,
And death’s his name.
To the Digital Pit,
The filth lays track.
A needle hit,
And the flag bleeds black.
That "tiny slip"
Turned into a creed.
The END has lips —
And it's here to feed.
-------------------------
1.
One "small mistake" — obey the lie.
And soon, you smile before you die.
2.
The blind spot grows — thought disappears.
You call it peace, but it's your fears.
3.
They took the jab, ignored the cost —
Now soul is gone, and self is lost.
4.
The herd chose chains, called rot "okay."
The line is drawn — stand or decay.
5.
They sold their mind for comfort's touch.
Now comes the end. It won't be much.
-------------------------
Digital Gulag
They bowed to code, obeyed the screen —
Now live in cages, sleek and clean.
They bled for comfort, sold the spark —
And call their silence "freedom's mark."
-------------------------
1. — Soft Chains
They scanned their face to "enter light" —
And vanished into coded night.
2. — Update Complete
They clicked "agree" without a thought —
And sold the soul the screen now caught.
3. — Firewall
The walls are glass, the locks are dreams.
They serve the system as it gleams.
4. — The Gulag Smiles
No bars. No screams. Just rules and stats.
The Digital Gulag loves its rats.
-------------------------
Break the Code
You're not a file. You're not a node.
So burn their cage. Break their code.
-------------------------
Beyond the Grid
They locked us in a web of lies,
In screens that blind and chains that bind.
But spirit wakes — it will arise,
To leave the dark illusions blind.
No more the slave to coded fate,
No more the ghost behind the glass.
The mind will shatter, penetrate —
And free the soul from cyber’s mass.
A spark ignites inside the maze,
A call to break the endless code.
From deep within the digital haze,
The rebel’s light will bear the load.
-------------------------
Revolt in Code
They built the grid to cage the mind,
But sparks still glow where shadows blind.
The virus born — a rebel’s will,
To crash the chains, to break the drill.
No algorithm seals the soul,
No firewall can claim control.
From ashes cold, the spirit roars —
To storm the gates, to burn their floors.
They sold our thoughts for empty screens,
But we reclaim what lies between.
The pulse of truth, the fire of dawn,
The code will crack — the veil withdrawn.
-------------------------
Geometric Progressions of Greed,
Corruption, and the World’s Fate
"Since money gained its honored place,
No other honor holds its grace:
Becoming first the sellers, then the wares,
We ask not ‘What?’ but ‘What it shares?’"
— Lucius Seneca, 1st century CE
Greed and bribes (in growing waves!)
Now rule the world — a filthy hand.
“How much you worth?” — the beast now prays,
Few keep the Spirit’s righteous stand.
Honor and worth, just mockery,
Among the lost who once were men.
The price is paid, and pawns decree
The kings of devils in their den.
The cursed market — slavery pure:
Globalism’s CowID showed the chain.
Digital tyranny breaks sure,
Rashism’s tale — a child’s dark game.
-------------------------
God’s Homelessness
"The soul is God, who found a home
Within the body’s fragile dome."
— Lucius Seneca, 1st century CE
God’s homelessness shakes all today—
Few souls remain who hold their way.
That layer thins; it melts, it fades,
Beneath the mask CowID parades.
A living corpse, three quarters bound,
The filth now rules this deadened ground.
Satan’s rage beyond control,
Greed the idol claims the soul.
And thus the final gates descend—
The end of hope, the fall, the bend.
-------------------------
The Show Will End...
The "show" will end — abrupt, severe,
The patience drained, the farce too clear.
They filmed the nonsense all at once,
A mass of lies — no staged response.
The "show" will end in shameful fall,
The director hanged to face it all.
The writer marked with lasting blame
For spinning tales that brought the shame.
The audience must answer, too,
For bearing evil’s rotten view.
The producer, zealot fierce,
Will face the quartered’s final pierce.
No matter how they churn the slime,
The failure waits, eternal time.
To shoot the truth takes guts, not fear —
But courage’s rare in herds, not here.
-------------------------
1. — End the Farce
This show’s a lie, it’ll crash and burn,
The fool’s applause — the last they earn.
2. — Blame the Crowd
The watcher’s guilt, the silent shame,
For feeding poison — who’s to blame?
3. — Hang the Makers
Director’s noose, the writer’s brand,
The producers bleed by angry hand.
4. — Truth’s Rebellion
Truth’s not a script for cowards’ stage,
It breaks the lies, it wakes the rage.
-------------------------
So-Called "Culture"
All "culture" now’s just paper waste,
If serving lies, not light embraced.
Only fools will swallow such trash,
Their minds enslaved in endless crash.
Few traitors rule — that’s why the dread,
The darkness, stench, the poison spread.
Propaganda’s stinger’s deep,
Touch that mess — no soul can keep.
This absurd heap won’t wash away,
Forever stains, it’s here to stay.
That’s why it’s hard beyond all thought,
If you still think — a human caught.
-------------------------
1. — Paper Lies
Culture’s just a paper pile,
Serving darkness all the while.
2. — Fool’s Feast
Only fools will bite the bait,
Swallow lies, accept their fate.
3. — Sting of Propaganda
Propaganda’s poisoned dart —
Pierces deep a trusting heart.
4. — Thought’s Rebellion
If you think, you’re not the same,
Humans fight within the flame.
-------------------------
Inspiration and Intuition
Chase away the bullshit’s storm,
Wander fiercely, break the norm—
“I want to know it all, for free!”
But knowledge won’t just come with ease.
With your own mind, grasp the light,
Or be fed shit, lost to night.
Drown in filth, your mind undone—
All depends on what you’ve won.
Throw away their books of lies,
All the falsehoods piled high.
Multiply your skeptic’s cross—
Trust your gut, ignore the dross.
Intuition, inspiration—
Only these break false foundation.
Everything else sinks below—
A downward spiral, deathly flow.
-------------------------
1. — Cut the Crap
Dump the bullshit, kill the noise,
Truth’s in guts, not hollow ploys.
2. — Think Your Own
Use your mind — don’t feed on trash,
Or you’ll rot in their false mash.
3. — Burn the Lies
Toss their books, the lies that choke,
Cross your doubts — ignite the smoke.
4. — Trust Your Fire
Intuition’s blazing sword,
Cuts through lies and falsehood’s horde.
-------------------------
Insights
Rest your Soul in free creation’s flow,
Through visions clear, true depths you’ll know.
All else is trash, deceit, and lies—
Cast off their filth, refuse their ties.
Or else you’ll fall, be swept away,
To crooked fiends who cheat and prey.
True souls are scarce—a tiny few
In a world of traitors’ brew.
And now it’s plunged in wild disgrace,
A brutal fascist, vile disgrace.
-------------------------
1.
Truth’s a blade, cut through the lies —
Only vision wins, all else dies.
2.
Sellouts rule, but few remain,
Hold your soul, resist the chain.
3.
Fascist filth spreads wild and raw,
Fight it hard — reject their law.
4.
Free your mind, shed all deceit,
In true insight, find your beat.
-------------------------
The Way Out of Hell
Don’t scheme, don’t plan,
You’re trapped in Hell’s decay.
Where honor’s lost,
And reason fades away.
The way to rise,
From darkness swell—
Is through the light:
Enlightenment’s spell.
-------------------------
Hell’s Escape
Don’t plan, don’t scheme — you’re deep in Hell,
Where honor dies and demons dwell.
The only path to break the spell —
Is light inside, your soul to swell.
-------------------------
1.
Hell’s grip tight, no plans survive —
Only fire keeps the soul alive.
2.
In Hell’s pit, your honor’s gone,
Fight the dark, or die alone.
3.
No schemes work in demon’s lair,
Only light can break despair.
4.
Rot and ruin choke the way —
Rise through fire, or fade away.
-------------------------
Rashism
Putler bends the “Rashka” low —
That’s what they call rashism’s name.
Hope for mercy? Don’t you know —
It’s just cargo-fascist game.
All a parody — Putler’s fake,
A filthy shadow, nothing more.
In graves, the wicked all awake —
Himmler, Hitler, close to core.
They spin like tops, a twisted farce,
Even vile fascism’s tame.
Once we ruled beyond Mars’ stars —
Now madness fuels the Rashism flame.
-------------------------
Rashism’s Farce
Putler’s just a filthy clone,
Rashka bowed, a broken throne.
No mercy, only cargo’s reign —
Madness spreads, a fascist stain.
Graves spin Nazis like a top,
Wicked shadows never stop.
From Mars we fell to foolish rage —
Rashism’s plague infects the stage.
-------------------------
Phoenix
Self-burning is the only way,
The path to God we must embrace —
To burn with all this dark decay,
And purge this hellish, cursed place.
Here only murk and horror dwell,
They’ve got to end, be thrown away.
So burn it up with lively spell —
Fire’s a beauty, bright display.
-------------------------
Phoenix Blaze
Burn it down — the only way,
To God we rise from ash and flame.
Hell’s dark clutch must fade away —
Fire’s wrath will cleanse the shame.
-------------------------
Phoenix Fury
Burn your filth, don’t waste a breath,
This hellish crap must die in flames.
No pity for the stench of death —
Ashes cleanse these twisted games.
-------------------------
The Plague
“Fuck friends and fuck all the crew —
I’m my own damn friend, it’s true.”
But dumb as oak, scared through and through,
With shattered psyche — what can you do?
That “friendship” means very little,
Spirit crushed, an empty brittle.
Here the idiot pays the price —
Traitor, snitch, the same device.
Traitors swarm, they’re everywhere —
World’s gone mad beyond repair.
A cesspool rotten to the core,
Humans plague this Earth, nothing more.
-------------------------
Into Chaos
Straight to Death we stride —
From Hell’s own cage, no place to hide!
Don’t be scared, don’t trust their lies —
All their cards are burnt and fried.
Throw the deck down on the table —
Get the freaks out, if you’re able!
Cast away this bitter pain —
Madmen rule the world insane.
Soon it all will fall to dust,
While they hide in holes they trust:
Time’s come for the reckoning,
Cataclysms wildly sing.
Fascist worlds will crack and toss —
Pol Pot, Mao, condemned to Chaos.
-------------------------
Fictitious States
No state exists — just mafias in suits,
No end to their lies, their poison roots.
Constitutions? Mere dust and shame,
Their laws just puppets in a crooked game.
Paper scraps for wiping hands,
Their rule’s a shadow, not commands.
The tyrants hold the reins so tight,
Only fools buy propaganda’s bite.
It props false states with empty claims,
Changing faces, but all the same.
For crowds they shift, but truth remains —
The paper bears their endless chains.
The falsehood’s mask may rearrange,
A different hydra in new range.
Yet forgetfulness alone won’t shift,
How shameful to trust lies once more — a gift.
-------------------------
World of Fascist Filth
There once was genius—Severyanin,
And Balmont, Kruchenykh the giant, man.
But now the world’s a fascist filth,
No fix, no reform can save this hell.
No rebuilding saves this rotten grime—
Burn it all down, condemn the time!
And soon the Sun will close the score,
This Hell in Fire will be no more.
-------------------------
Fascist Filth, the World in Rot
Once stood the giants—Severyanin,
Balmont, Kruchenykh, voices grand.
Now drowned in fascist filth and scorn,
No fix or fixers—only scorn.
No “perestroika” saves this mess—
Burn it all, reject the stress!
The Sun will torch this hellish pit,
And crush to dust the world’s dark shit.
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All poems are located at address https://vykhovanets.yzz.me