The Training of a Monkey with a Grenade
Frol's school turns the child to ape,
With fingers clenched in a cruel shape.
Without the grenade, the vile new trend —
Neo-fascism's easy to bend.
-------------------------
Art Under Control
Art’s controlled not by direction—
Only cash can call the shots.
Foam and rot, in each reflection—
Rotten feelings, twisted plots.
Money’s made for domination,
Not for joy, but to corrode—
Tools of planned degeneration,
Plain to see the way we go’d.
CowID showed the scheme completely.
Where is art? Where is dissent—
That, in protest cloaked discreetly,
Kills the madness, not relents?
Only few, as always, dared to
Speak the truth and break the trance.
Art, it seems, is just a phantom,
In real life—it leads the dance
Of a hydra, evil-driven.
Not by force, but coin instead
Does the beast, in shadows hidden,
Rule the stage. And you’re misled—
Blind to see it, dumb and sleeping,
If you think it's all a game.
Once you spot what lies it's keeping,
You won’t look at it the same.
-------------------------
So-Called “Art”
Creeps in service, gladly selling—
Trained for trade and empty yelling.
Slavery’s engraved inside,
Tiny minds just run and hide.
Squeak a bit — they’ll toss you meat,
Just enough to call it "treat."
This is “art” today, no less:
Filthy lies in fancy dress.
-------------------------
Materialist Mock-Culture
Fake culture’s depth? It’s all about
The cash, the skin, the shallow clout.
With lies of "care" for flesh and face,
It leads the fools in Evil’s race.
False faiths preach false "spiritual light"
To prop up madness day and night.
This fake culture is a chain
Built to keep us all insane.
Spirit leads — and mind should follow:
That is culture, deep, not hollow.
But if that truth breaks the charm,
The BEAST will lose its grip and harm.
You can't control a soul that's free —
Only herds yield easily.
Though it’s hard to break the trance
(It's ruled for ages, not by chance),
Fall within. The truth lies there —
Not in noise or outer glare.
There you'll find a spark to guide:
Light and Beauty, deep inside.
-------------------------
Living the Sweet Life!
"Sweet like chocolate!" — join the show,
Frontline traitors steal the glow.
Write for media? You’ll rise—
As a top-tier king of lies.
Crack the zombie-box, you’re crowned—
To the mindless, deep and sound,
God and ruler, bold and brash,
Super-creep in monster-trash.
If you can’t — then be a clerk,
Lower grade, but still can work.
No more lazing, here’s your fate:
"Fetch!" — the BEAST commands with hate.
Still, you’ll steal without much stress,
Just enough for full success.
Then explain with calm aplomb
Why it’s grand to be a swine
In a world so dumb, decayed,
If you love that sweet charade.
And devoured, one by one,
By the horde — the Parade of Scum.
-------------------------
No Future Ahead
"The last shall be the first!" — they say,
The "Internationale" dream.
But those who rot their souls away
Will never rise — despite the theme.
One isn’t blind who’s poor and tired,
But he who eats and sleeps on time,
Yet bends to thugs as self-required
And buys into collective crime.
The world is ruled by ghostly lies —
A thousand myths, all thin and hollow.
That "specter" once with glowing eyes,
Called communism, we did follow.
It was a dream — just one of many,
And more will come, the weak to sway.
The mob sells out for next day's penny...
That’s why we’re lost. We’ve lost our way.
-------------------------
Satan’s Kitchen
"He who does not resist evil is consumed by it and becomes possessed."
—Ivan Ilyin
Possession’s spread is everywhere:
Resist not evil — it will bake you.
Like dough, you’re shaped with subtle care,
Then to the Devil’s oven take you.
Outside, you’re sweet — a gingerbread,
But inside — poison fills your core.
Your soul is sold, your reason's dead,
You’re just a puppet, nothing more.
The goal? To eat you. Tear and bite.
And as you burn in false delight,
Your loosh pours out — a cursed perfume,
And souls dissolve in silent gloom.
-------------------------
The Cesspool
Folly reigns where honor’s gone,
And knowledge now is twisted lies.
Consumed by need, enslaved by wrong—
The mark of genocide still lies.
The traitor climbs—the cesspool hums,
Not the biggest chunk, but still it’s clear:
The “worthy” rot, as darkness drums,
They wait for higher ranks to cheer.
While down below, the other kind
Refuse the filth that’s piled so high,
The bold ones face a bitter grind—
For defiance leads to jail or die.
Only few remain who dare to fight,
Their time is short, their future bleak,
In the cesspool — isolated might,
Unable to unite or speak.
Each must endure the painful test—
But lessons learned are lost in vain.
It’s time to end this poisoned mess,
And burn the cesspool’s dark domain.
-------------------------
The Miracle Cure
A cure for weariness — to run,
Start young, and soon you'll find success.
The prize you’ll win will weigh as one—
Good health, the key to happiness.
All else is fluff, so let it slide,
Except for Art, the soul’s true quest.
With strength like ox, and will as guide,
Your labor turns to purest zest.
-------------------------
"A Residence Permit in the Sky"
Strive for a place up high,
“How?”—by rejecting the filth
That taints the world with lies.
Though a chance exists, in this life,
To live as a pauper, you see,
Dwelling in a latrine's strife
Means living with “high society.”
-------------------------
Ignorance as the Fate of the World
"There’ll always be some Eskimos who teach the Papuans how to cope with heat."
Stanisław Jerzy Lec.
I went to school — a fool among fools —
They told me how I ought to live.
The madhouse chiefs, the traitor-rules,
Taught love of homeland — false and stiff.
They showed the way. No real example —
Just thunderous speeches, empty pride.
And I, a youth, too small to trample,
Stood still as lies screamed far and wide.
So I shall die — not quite a native,
A step from ignorance, half-bred.
But no one minds. The chains are sacred
If silence keeps your conscience dead.
-------------------------
How to Be a Poet
If you rise before the sun,
Turn your soul where shadows run,
Grab a pen and let it flow —
You're a poet, now you know.
Add some rhythm, keep it tight,
Make sure rhymes still sound just right,
Squeeze in meaning, feeling too,
And don’t echo what you do.
-------------------------
Down the Slope of Daily Dread
So your life went off the rails...
Once you thought you’d reached the top?
Now it’s mourning, veils on veils —
For the Mind. A fool won’t stop
To reflect — this fight for "bliss"
Never ends, it drags us down.
Only few through storms like this
Stumble toward a distant crown,
Toward a flicker faint and kindled
Through the shards of warped belief,
But the mirrors — cracked and swindled —
Steal the souls in silent grief.
In Forgetfulness the nation
Dwells, as scoundrels tear apart
Mind and Spirit — desecration
Leaves but few with subtle heart.
Hell is here — the world beneath it
Takes its form and bears its name.
Sunlight fades — we barely breathe it,
Years slip into fatal flame.
Soon comes Exodus. Most hurry
Toward a new infernal shore,
Born of fear, betrayal, worry —
Twisted lies and nothing more.
-------------------------
The Path to Light
A turtle dreamt of running fast,
To win a marathon at last.
Much like some fool who talks all day
Of chasing Light to flee decay.
He claims he's left the dark behind,
With "purity" to fill his mind,
While in the chaos of the lame,
Decay's the law, and truth's a game.
He waits for some elusive breath —
The third one, standing on the second.
But rot still spreads, as sure as death —
A madhouse world, so grimly beckoned.
-------------------------
Double Shot
A burst of fear
And lies is fired.
The fool stands near —
Alone, inspired.
A hit — dead on!
"March forth!" the horde.
How low we've gone —
Scum crowns the sword.
-------------------------
Amid the Metal Screams
There’s pain and constant nausea,
From nonsense, lies, and boredom.
A “paradise” of torment —
Or just pure Hell in sordid form?
To bow to filth and suffer?
Then you become a spineless cur.
Corrupted freaks abound,
Mad traitors all around.
They form the herd, the horde —
So fight, or be ignored.
Or they will crush what's left
Of Spirit, Mind, and Honor —
In this world of twisted theft,
Where rust and madness wander.
-------------------------
The End of Nostalgia
It’s timely now — the final slide
To real Hell, the gaping maw,
Where fascist filth no more can hide —
The spawn of Hell will meet its law.
They’ll vanish with their wicked kin,
Who cheered decay and praised the fall,
Dragged the world through rot and sin
Down past the depths — near furnace wall.
-------------------------
Kids in Cages — That’s Called School
Into the world they march — as tools,
Turning all to empty stages.
But truth be told… their dads were fools.
-------------------------
How Many Fools?
How many fools must fall to end
This war, this endless, bloody trend?
So many more — for Russia’s reached
The depths, where all the souls are breached.
-------------------------
The Pendulum
The pendulum is broken now —
The rhythm fades, no steady flow.
Maybe I’ve just run dry somehow —
A hack, a scribbler — don't you know?
-------------------------
Substitute Line
A hollow verse, a foolish rhyme —
Come on, you clown, it’s your time!
Go ahead, oppress the weak,
Make your mockery complete.
-------------------------
The Poet’s Futility
The poet's work — a fruitless fight,
In fear and madness, lost in spite,
Of lies, of greed, of all we’ve lost —
A world consumed, no matter cost.
-------------------------
The First Rainy Season in Moldova
Rainy season —
A subtropical place...
Pour it down,
Let chaos fill the space.
-------------------------
Kaleidoscope
A little is enough for thought —
A kaleidoscope of books, of plot.
But oft it serves to pull away —
It fills the heart with empty sway.
-------------------------
Social Realism — A Crude Shift
A super-concentration of mind,
Not for fascist-communist drift,
But to drag the "minds" to the grind.
-------------------------
Hear! I Crave Wonders and Spectacles
Bored to rot in cracks and holes,
It's rashism that takes its toll —
A wonder of madness, dull and cold.
-------------------------
The Writer’s Absurdity
In the madhouse of deceit,
Publishers reign, with endless feet,
Of sheepish novels scattered wide,
Where truth and sense are cast aside.
-------------------------
"The law is harsh, but just indeed"
It traps the fools, and makes them bleed.
For clever, sly, and cunning fish —
This is the world's inevitable wish.
-------------------------
"Once Upon a Time," or What They'll Remember About Us...
"We lived," but never were —
To Hell we sailed, in lies a blur.
Conquered fears that drowned the light —
Worse than death, these endless nights...
-------------------------
It Doesn't Matter How Many Foes
For paper tigers, fierce they show,
But in this world of fools and lies,
Their roar is hollow, their strength dies.
-------------------------
The Futility of Effort
The fruitlessness of all we try,
To pass through lies that twist and vie,
In tortures built of deceit and pain,
We struggle on, but all in vain.
-------------------------
"Inflexibility" in Personal Ties
And patience with the rules of Night —
Blind to all the vulgar lies,
The nature of a goat "in flight".
-------------------------
"You boast of a pure past, you swine?
Once a virgin, now a whore in line..."
Politicians always stand apart,
But they're tainted from the very start,
With dirt and lies they’ve carried long —
A mark of filth, a tale of wrong.
-------------------------
Foolish, Futile Hopes
“Hope is the dream of the waking.”
— Plato
Dream breaks through the fog of Lies,
That people proudly call their "mind."
It’s hard to shout a clear "deny!"
When truth is something none can find.
Dream, Lie, and Madness — hand in hand —
Have wrapped the world in shadow’s dome.
And if you're Tender, you must stand
Alone — serve Soul, not Mind — and roam.
-------------------------
Doom
Doom’s drawing near — no way to stall.
The crowd still stumbles through the Night.
Just few attempt, if so at all,
To keep their sanity in sight.
The mind is under fierce attack —
This age, the final, seals our fate:
Fear, filth and lies — a rising stack —
And man dissolves beneath their weight.
A puppet takes the human’s place —
CowID made that crystal-clear.
"Great changes" wait for every face:
Shame masked as kindness, pride as fear.
In rabid haste, the beasts parade —
They crave to strike before the Flame
Consumes this world, so wrongly made,
In Fascism’s all-consuming name.
-------------------------
Lawless by Design
"Who told you that there are laws to which our behavior must conform?"
— Arthur Schopenhauer
The BEASTS are drafting laws again,
The masses nod, applaud, comply.
They’re chains disguised as rules for men —
Decay is what they justify.
Obeying BEASTS — the only creed
That now defines what life should be.
But is it life, this sham, this screed,
Where thought is tossed in lunacy?
Their minds are loops of prefab clips,
No spark, no soul, no conscious thread —
Thus drunks and psychos, full eclipse,
Become the norm, just as they’re bred.
That’s what the BEASTS have always sought —
A world of rats in legal snare,
Where laws mean: "Crawl!", and truth is naught,
And lying’s breathed like common air.
-------------------------
Creation
Boredom’s bitch won’t ever find you
If your craft and fire bind you
In this world of rot and madness.
Else you’ll drown in lies and sadness.
Lies are rampant, wild, insane.
But if art is clear and plain,
It can clear the mind and senses —
Laziness just dulls defenses.
Strain is needed — real, not hollow,
When your questions you must follow.
There’s no other way — delusion
Rules the world in full profusion.
Earth is racing to the brink,
Not much time is left to think.
Make your mark — ignore the glory,
Even if no reads your story.
They won’t notice, they won’t care —
But so what? It’s in the air.
That cliff is near. The end is tight.
Create — while you still have the right.
-------------------------
Mock-Haiku
A slug crawls slowly to the height...
Yeah right — that slug won’t make it far.
It’ll find a "reason," sure —
The slimy herd knows why they are.
Don’t be a slug — forget the mold!
Don't creep — just fly, ignore the rules!
The slime will call your flight too bold.
Don't trust the slick — fly past the fools!
-------------------------
Instant Nonlocal Ties
There are ties beyond all measure —
Instant, distant — Nature’s thread.
But the scum, in blind displeasure,
Chop what never should be shred.
They defile what is united,
Chasing joy in soulless ways.
With wild howls, the press, excited,
Drives them straight into the blaze.
Yet the End comes — fast, revealing,
Truth breaks through the howls of lies.
Few stay honest — more appealing
To the world where spirit flies.
And the rest? To Hell they’re driven,
Not the old one, dressed in myths —
But a fresh one, newly given
For the fools with hollow "ifs."
-------------------------
The Dignified Frog
A frog leapt in a pot — quite grand —
With water cold (at least for now).
She sought out joy, a promised land —
But got the madhouse life allows.
They boil her slow, with lies and steam,
Just turning up the heat each day.
She hopped in proud — lost in a dream,
Till truth — and reason — slipped away.
-------------------------
The "Straight Path"
When brains are rare, the crowd’s in luck
A path is pitched, so bold and bright.
The fools line up to join the suck,
Its end is called pure dread and fright.
But through the Fog of Lies they march,
In tidy rows, with cheerful face.
And when they reach that final arch
They re fed more nonsense, just in case.
They'll call the horror a "mistake"
And sell a new "straight path" once more.
The lie gets tweaks for lying’s sake
It works on minds with broken core.
-------------------------
The Straight Path
When minds are scarce — a common trait —
They offer up a "straight" way through.
And fools line up — they take the bait,
Not seeing where that road will skew.
The end is wrapped in Fog and Fiction —
They march ahead in tidy rows.
And once they reach the grim affliction,
They toss in fresh confusing shows.
They’ll call the horror "just a glitch"
And chart the "straight path" out once more.
The lies don’t change — not even switch —
But fools still flock, their minds unsure.
-------------------------
Negative Selection
Selection now goes in reverse —
A law that Darwin never knew.
The liar thrives, the thief does worse —
He climbs, while noble men are few.
The wise, the just — they're cast below,
Their strength of spirit left to rot.
No chance to let that power grow —
The scum selects a lesser lot.
A newer breed is rising fast —
Of servile souls, with vacant eyes.
They dress up lies in modern masks,
Call chains "free choice," and truth — "disguise."
The final shame — a bright facade
Of "freedom" in a wired disguise.
This path's a sentence, cold and odd —
And once it grips, no one will rise.
-------------------------
The Horror of Swinish Ways
Torments of passion?
Reject the obsession!
All’s twisted and hollow —
No truth left to follow.
Your Spirit’s a rover —
No home to take over.
So seek in that fire
A higher desire.
Let Mind serve the Soul —
One self, whole and whole.
That’s oneness — the key.
All else is swinery.
-------------------------
Executioners of Mind
"Steal the Volga — send it West!"
That earned ten years without protest.
The nation’s best were crushed and maimed,
While mass delusion was proclaimed.
And now — the same. Just change the dress:
CowID made it clear — no less.
The ghouls remain, their aims aligned:
For centuries — a war on Mind.
-------------------------
April First
A day for all the Earth,
Where nonsense fills the air,
And like a blight of mirth,
Man falls in dark despair.
Transformed by foolish schemes,
To slaves, they’re made to bend.
And all are caught in dreams,
Where devils find their end.
-------------------------
Goal!!!
Football: pass, then goal —
You’re in the game, full blaze.
But chaos? —
That type of mind just sways.
It doesn't see the Dark —
"Understood!" is all it hears.
For its "mind" —
It’s all just "this" and "fears."
-------------------------
The Change
No rescue, no salvation,
Only rot in every nation.
What’s left? Just wait for the end,
But not for long — just years to spend.
A total cage has closed around,
New beasts will rise, their minds still bound —
In fear, in filth, in false disguise,
They’ll live beneath the darkened skies.
-------------------------
The Supply of Fools
The fools will never run dry,
This war will never cease.
Its goal? To wipe out those who lie,
Who’ve sunk to the deepest peace.
-------------------------
Bleach
The finest bleach is now in hand,
To paint the world in white demand.
Take up the task, so cold, so bold —
Truth’s too harsh when lies unfold.
In this age of fascist rage,
You must be scum to turn the page.
Better still, a servant’s role —
And rot in sweetness, sold your soul.
-------------------------
All poems are located at address https://vykhovanets.yzz.me