Like "Causality"
And B follows A,
Repeats itself too fast.
But B’s called cause —
A mistake, unsurpassed.
It’s just the habit,
Labeled “causality,”
The mind’s a sieve,
In vanity's reality.
We learn? WE NAME!
Opinions in place of thought —
Just nonsense, all the same,
This plague that we’ve sought.
It kills the mind,
The search is what we crave,
The end’s decay defined,
In which we soon shall cave.
-------------------------
The Deputy
A deputy — disgrace and shame,
A twisted mind, in darkness tame,
With "approval" for the beast’s law,
A world of decay, with no more awe.
In it, money blinds it all,
Excuses rise, but they will fall.
The Final Judgement won't believe,
And all the rot will burn, no reprieve.
-------------------------
Pynya
Pynya hears, Pynya knows,
He rules the people, high and low,
With lies, with fear, with sticky dread —
In that "land," you walk with dead.
-------------------------
What Strikes Is Not the Madness of Orders, But the Zeal of the Executors
The overdrive of idiots,
Under creatures' rule, no wit,
Shocks the wise —
As faith in the future dies.
What impressed in CowID's game?
Not the beasts' orders — but the same,
To evil's call, they blindly race,
Performing lies with "boundless grace".
-------------------------
The world’s a stage — and we, they say, are players?
But players of a rundown, burnt-out stage,
Where each dreamed Hamlet’s grief to once portray —
Yet played a fool, a dunce upon the page,
And studied not the craft, but how to "climb" his way.
They all forgot: true art exists for art.
To serve the Muse is glory, not a trade,
Not boiling rotten feelings for a part
In shows where hacks direct and truth’s betrayed.
Those who rose high and won the leading scenes
Weren’t those with talent, heart, or measured tone —
But those who pushed with elbows, fierce and keen,
And fought their way to seize the starry throne.
The stage has burned. The elbowed, lacking grace,
Now seek another stage to strut and play —
But none remains. The last chance to embrace
Real passion’s flame was squandered, tossed away.
Now nothing’s left but groaning in despair,
Awaiting roles of traitors marked for death,
And learning pain — the price of art laid bare,
As Spirit speaks in every labored breath.
-------------------------
Anti-Psychiatric Fantasy
Inject a "downer" — let it sting,
To feel this Hell more crystal-clear.
To hell with all that "well-being" —
Only freaks feel cozy here.
The world turned upside down, they chase
The "higher ground" with rabid pride,
Declare all spirit realms a waste,
And ride ambition's bloated tide.
Obsessed with power, cash, and speed,
He’s "cheerful", "stable", smug and bold —
But truly, he's devoid of need:
A half-dead clown with guts gone cold.
Through pain you’ll wake in Hell’s abyss,
Through pain, the face of Evil see.
Only morons call this bliss.
Pain plus Clarity — that’s free!
-------------------------
Pre-Flight Fantasy
To fly! Who cares if you might crash,
Your bones a mess, your soul unstrung?
They’ll rot regardless in the trash
If all you do is hold your tongue.
The dead are calm — they always are,
And most are corpses, still in breath.
But if you never shoot for stars,
You celebrate slow-rotting death.
So grow the Wings of Art — they sprout
From feathered lines your hand will weave.
Through flight, let Spirit cast out doubt,
And all that fear you still believe.
That clings like rot, won’t let you soar,
No matter how you strain or pray.
There is no choice — it’s fly or floor.
It’s UP — or rot away!
-------------------------
Suckers and Night Terrors
All the suckers, round and plastic,
Puffed with lies — then pop, they drop
Into nightmares grim and spastic,
Where the meek get crushed nonstop.
“Just obey,” “believe,” “don’t question” —
That’s a loser’s sacred code.
So the scum with fake intentions
Easily infect the load.
Terror, filth, and fear they offer
To the dimwits of all kinds,
Claiming, “It’s for safety, softer
Lives” — for demons tanning hides.
Figurative? Maybe. Barely.
Formally — it’s lemon time:
Squeeze the sucker dry and fairly.
In this hell, fear-fuel is prime.
-------------------------
Loss and the Cost
A heavy loss — of wit, of pride —
And then the price is paid in full:
You rot in filth, where lies abide,
Among fascistic, mindless bull.
This stupid world decays, and fast,
Its brains replaced with sheepish fluff.
But give the fascists time — at last
We’ll live like amoebas: dumb and tough,
Devouring crap to store in bulk,
Then crapping just to make a point —
Enough to make the germs sulk
And envy every bloated joint.
False plagues, like gods, now rule the land —
Inventing more so none escape.
With every jab, a rotten brand,
In poison’s name — salvation’s shape.
Corruption spreads in every crack,
While Evil lies attack and feast.
There's no clear road, no turning back —
Just rot beneath the lab coats' priest.
-------------------------
The Autumn of the World
They count their chickens in the fall —
And how? They chop their heads, that’s all.
The same fate waits the flock of sheep:
Fascistic rot runs strong and deep.
It’s everywhere — and yet just bleating,
Excuses soft, submissive pleading.
Their trembling voices feed the flames,
While bastards play their butcher games.
With double force they strike and bind,
Then paint it “care for humankind.”
They cage the herd in wires and codes —
A prison dressed in safety modes.
They’ll shoot fresh poison in your vein
If you don’t flee their fenced domain.
That’s how they’ll count the sheep once more —
Still waiting, drooling at the door...
-------------------------
Mockery Science for the Mindless Poor
They laugh it off — dismiss and scoff —
When topics get too rough to hold.
What shakes their "science" right clean off
Reveals it built on lies and mold.
It clings to charts, deceit, and graphs,
Pretending strength through shallow frames.
But fraud and schemes, like poison drafts,
Are how these beasts perfect their games.
From CowID lies to “circles” drawn
In crops — they mock, deny, distort.
The Rotten World Bedlam rolls on,
With parasites who twist the “port.”
A flood of facts gets shaved to none,
Their “theories” cut to fit the mold.
No arguments — just memes for fun.
And poor minds? They consume what’s sold.
-------------------------
Fantasy
The tears keep falling, rolling still —
But truth? They simply won’t believe.
"Sleep on it — you'll find the will,"
Then line up bright, naïve, naïve...
A fantasy. All that’s true
Are lies and tears — no light, no flame.
The darkness wants obedient crew —
No mind, no soul, no sense of shame.
Tears without the truth are fake,
Just shrieking fits, no deeper cause.
And minds without the soul will break —
Most are soulless now, because...
The media feeds the slaves pure lies
With every broadcast, every claim.
And soon we’ll see parades arise —
As fascism returns in shame.
CowID served as training drill,
Darkness won — and loud, and fast.
The crowd were cowards, dumb and still —
This world’s a joke. A farce. A blast.
-------------------------
In the Sandbox
"Take your toys and leave my pot!
And don’t you dare to pee again!"
Though they're "grown-ups" — still a lot
Never truly use their brain.
"Teenage minds" in grown-up skins —
That's the norm, a global trend.
Add delusions, fed like sins —
And the madhouse has no end.
In this world, where dumb’s a prayer
Chanted like a holy creed,
No one grows — they stall right there,
Trained to serve, not think or lead.
They may look like full-grown men,
But inside — wild kids at play.
Fed on lies, they sleep again,
Numb and docile every day.
Lies control the game. The wise
Must outgrow this plastic trap.
But for minds that never rise —
Old-school lies still fill the gap.
-------------------------
Old Optimists
Old optimists still trust the tales,
As they did in the days of yore.
Once traitors spoke with louder wails —
Today, Judas rebels once more.
-------------------------
Zero and Nothing
From birth, you start in negative,
And soon you’re trapped, it’s clear to see.
The system’s built to push the sieve,
Making “school” the brain’s debris.
They castrate every rebel’s mind,
And “maturity” brings empty toll —
Like luck’s a joke that’s left behind.
Yet still the poor declare it’s whole.
-------------------------
Chemical Attack
A chemical attack —
Food and "medical care,"
Lies to send the fools back,
Wasting them with despair.
They say, "Science protects,
Keeps your health in check,"
But food’s just wasteful effects,
And no one stops to check.
No problems here, they say,
While idiots believe —
Memes lead the clueless way,
And “care” is just a weave.
They’ll starve you slow, erase the truth,
Idiots repeat the lie,
A parade of selling proof,
Under fake smiles, they cry.
-------------------------
A Song Left Unfinished…
If a song holds no delusion,
That's a pity, that’s a flaw.
Life throws in its own intrusion —
Sticks for those who honor law.
No one hears the voice that’s clear —
Noise is what they want to sell.
In this world so dark and drear,
Only madness rings the bell.
Drivel fills the air like smog,
Cheap and dirty monologue.
Only filth gets full attention —
Groaning hard with no dimension.
-------------------------
Poetry Fatigue
When poetry comes in endless streams —
No "roses," no "hydrangea" dreams,
No "glory" sung to kings or lords —
Just weariness in quiet chords.
To fight it, reason is your guide,
But still, it’s hard to dodge the slide
Into those pits where verses stall —
And climbing out? No gain at all.
You rise, but wisdom doesn’t grow —
The poet’s path is cursed and slow.
Forget about some grand ascent —
It’s not for bards the stars were meant.
-------------------------
Dogmatism of Pseudoscience and the Goals Behind It
Dogma rules — it's off the meter.
Pseudoscience, clear as day:
Full of lies and raving fever,
It will never change its way.
Those who fund it seek a mission —
Not religion, but control.
Feeding fools with fake ambition,
Waiting till it takes its toll.
Change will come — a camp is looming,
Digital, with rules unclear.
Truth will hide in faulty coding,
Chips in hands — the law is near.
There, fake plagues will serve as anchor,
Poison will be sold as cure.
Serve them well — avoid their anger.
Life for humans? Not so sure.
-------------------------
The Inversion
Feeble minds and weak ambition,
Childish dreams and vain pretension —
Draped in style and fine condition,
But beneath — a dark dimension.
This inversion's all around us:
Judas wears a halo proudly,
Fools proclaim their wisdom loudly,
Life becomes a chain that bounds us.
Tormenting the mind with teaching,
Books and schooling — just illusion.
Souls are tortured by the preaching
Of false faiths and their "conclusions."
Hell is crowned as new perfection,
Idiocy — now affection.
Wait a bit — the end is nearing.
Can’t you see? It's all past bearing.
Madness rules — the world is spinning.
They will burn this plague-beginnings.
Now arrives the time of cleansing.
Others soon will do the tending.
-------------------------
"Elections"
A "charismatic" clown’s worth more
Than someone smart but less composed.
That’s how the state selects its whores —
The crowd is mentally deposed.
All candidates — one single body,
Their differences are just for show.
The herd elects them — dumb and shoddy,
Too lost in filth to ever know.
They share one vault, one stream of funding,
Their "rivalry" — just for the scene.
They lack in brain but ride like thunder —
Why think at all, when you're the king?
Their speeches ghostwritten by hacks
According to a script assigned.
And backstage fascists plan the tracks
That lead the mob straight into blind.
A circus strung on puppet strings —
That’s politics and every vote.
A clown above, a freak beneath —
The daily act they love to quote.
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-------------------------
Sharks and Other Scare Tactics
A Chukchi in his little tent
Fears the sharks on terror’s trail —
They’re coming straight, with dark intent,
TV says so — grim and pale.
New “diseases” flood the station,
Flying straight into his dome.
Better get that “vaccination” —
Brilliant minds have brewed the foam.
Trust the box — it’s got the treasure,
Only truth, and nothing less.
Chukchi’s home turns into pressure
If he swallows their distress.
Dumb and savage, loud and lurid,
Propaganda loads the gun.
Lies are sharper than a bullet —
And they blast out reason — gone.
-------------------------
The Dead Ones
Dead are the children of dead generations,
Cities reek tomb-like, soulless and gray.
Few are the bearers of light and salvation —
Spirit is shattered, and reason betrayed.
Hellish dominions have seized the foundations,
Beasts rule through traitors — their will is imposed.
Power is forged through mass suffocation:
Choke every soul — and your bonus is owed.
Rotten in essence, this death-breeding sickness
Kills all that lives, spreads decay like a mist.
Filth is now worshipped as vital and “fitness” —
If you still eat, do you really exist?..
Soon, all the graves will be leveled and taken —
Time to redeem what the Earth had once known.
But no one cares. The dark is awaken —
And dead ones will claim you, make you their own.
There’s no surviving without transformation —
Look at the past: "Communism" stands.
Worse is to come — no imagination
Can grasp the reach of the fascist command.
-------------------------
The Fourth Law of Not-Newton
"A test is deemed successful when
Half the data’s tossed away —
Just enough to fake a plan
That makes the theory seem okay."
That’s the law — forget Sir Newton,
This one's followed far and wide:
Truth gets filtered, facts are shootin’
Blanks that still look justified.
"Custom science" — faked for hire,
Proofs for monsters, bought and sold.
Lies have dulled us, made us tire —
Fake science crawls through ages cold.
Like a hitman, trained and ready,
Hired to do a silent task:
Miss the mark? You're next already —
Fail the beasts, and feel the blast.
Human minds — the main obsession
For this crooked, sold-out cult.
Can't enslave them by oppression?
Trick them blind — that gets results.
So they lie, with charts and jargon,
Flashing "Proof!" like holy writ.
Cry "It’s proven!" — and a heron
Nods along and swallows it.
-------------------------
Does the Brain Excrete a Thought?
“Stimulation — then suppression” —
So they frame the mind’s expression.
But get wounded in the Heart —
And you’ll tear that lie apart.
Still, the madness floods our senses:
Souls decayed — no real defenses.
Freaks now preach their twisted creeds,
Breeding fools for darker deeds.
Thought descends from higher places,
Brain’s a wire — no shining source.
If your Heart is scorched in traces,
“Suppression” lacks the force.
That’s why poets die so early —
Or go mad, with vision swirly.
If they linger, it’s with pain —
Their soul burns slow, not plain.
-------------------------
The Sheeple-Virus
The sheeple-virus split the land —
Two parts, but not the same in weight:
The mass is dumb, too dull to stand.
So where’s that “brilliant mind” they rate?
So few remain — and now draws near
A time of horror, sharp and tragic:
A global camp, designed by fear,
Beneath a cross — how bold, how "magic."
Go mark the world with one last X —
No hope ahead, just degradation.
Corruption spreads — no place reflects
A trace of soul or elevation.
This world’s decayed — it will be burned,
No other end remains to choose.
Its shame: the beast that once had turned
Into a corpse that walks — confused.
For now the weak are bred and crowned,
A race of mutants, dull and broken.
They’ll praise the Beast, in madness bound —
CowID’s just flowers. Worse is spoken.
-------------------------
Slave Psychology and Ideology
“Freedom is necessity — but known.”
Spinoza’s thorn to minds full-blown
With chains they cherish, fears they keep —
A slave must tremble, crawl, and weep.
There is a choice — to serve or not,
It happens deep, inside the thought.
That thorn, once twisted in the brain,
Leads straight into the dark domain.
And now they’re “free” — within their minds,
They claim fate’s random, blind, and kind.
No slaughterhouse, no silent doom —
Just “accidents” that softly loom.
They’re offered tons of prophet-lies,
And gobble them with glassy eyes.
They’ll praise oppression, call it style,
Name whips “tradition” all the while.
They’ll live in chains, then call it grace,
With blissful numbness on their face.
And thinking dies beneath the yoke —
A funeral where minds are choked...
-------------------------
Ignorance Is Strength!
When fools are fed a steaming pile
And call it “knowledge” with a smile —
Then truth turns dark, and lies grow tall.
They lie, and lie, and lie through all.
Fake plagues like CowID, lies on AIDS —
The mind’s been drugged, its edge decays.
Ten percent left — perhaps still clear,
The rest are lost in dull-eyed fear.
So turn your intuition on,
Expose the lie it feeds upon.
Add reason, sharp and unafraid —
You’ll see the madness that they’ve made.
The herd’s no longer truly man,
But beasts beneath a darker plan.
To miss this truth — you play the clown,
Or serve the Beast that breaks us down.
-------------------------
Loyalty to Yourself
The crowd stumbles blind into the night —
To madness, with no end in sight.
If you refuse to do their wrong,
You’re an outcast — not where you belong.
All relationships, since you were young,
Will label you as untrue.
If you won’t be their means or pawn,
You’re false to their “ideals” too.
Yet evil’s called “ideal,” and praised
With words that sound so high and wise.
Be true to yourself, or your soul will fade
In a world of lies and futile lies.
-------------------------
Decadence
Ah, Hollywood and fast-food chains—
They’ve killed off art and daily dinners.
The media just fans the flames,
More brazen lies, more soulless sinners.
Wherever you may cast your glance,
It’s wedge on wedge—no room for turning.
No noble blow, no second chance—
Just scorched-out nerves from beauty burning.
-------------------------
Hybrid War
The dumbing down becomes the key
To wage a war so sly and mean.
It’s everywhere, without a face—
A swarm of fools now takes its place.
That idiot will track you down
And march you to a camp in town.
Refuse the pen? Then meet your fate—
The madhouse has an open gate.
-------------------------
The Well of Oblivion
A twisted crowd —
The well is proud
To drown what's best
And leave the rest.
Refuse to bend?
Then down you’ll send —
Cold waters wait
To seal your fate.
Say "yes" instead
To ice and dread —
A smarter path
Than join the wrath.
-------------------------
Marching Orders
He was told to march out west,
She was sent to face the rest.
Off they went — the witless throng
To civil war, where all feels wrong.
Time has taught them close to nil —
Again, the poisoned tongues instill
The urge to kill at someone’s shout,
To strike their kin and wipe them out.
Who pulls the strings? They do not see —
The foe controls the mindless spree.
So in a fevered, frenzied trance,
They slay their friends without a glance.
Ukraine, Korea — names that burn,
When fools forget, we don’t learn.
Onward, idiot! Be bold!
No shame in measures dark and cold…
-------------------------
The Deer
The world’s just fine for docile deer,
As long as no one stands too clear —
Stay on your knees, enjoy the feed,
And never question what you need.
Food and booze — a simple plan,
Fit for every stag and clan.
They’re herded back into the pen
Beneath the flag of "change again."
The pen will change — that’s all they get.
It’s always been that way, and yet:
Food, then booze, and back once more —
The years just trickle out like lore.
-------------------------
The Cause
No time to stall or wait!
Are men still in this state?
Or have the fools laid mines
For braver, smarter minds?
The bold, the true, the wise —
Now trapped in dull disguise.
The wicked lead the way,
And good is swept away.
No time for hesitation!
If you're a man — your station
Is facing evil head-on.
It strikes through clueless hang-ons.
Avoid the clowns, the brutes —
Their madness bears no roots.
They’ll wreck the work you start,
All chaos, no true heart.
The cause is striking lies
With fire that never dies.
The beast of lies won’t sleep —
It kills, it crawls, it creeps...
-------------------------
The Office Baboon
The Sheep is led by Monkey's hand,
The Goat commands behind the scene.
That’s the "people" of fake lands —
Where fascist whims are routine.
The CowID show revealed the pit:
No room for human hearts or grace.
The soul is fading, bit by bit,
As devils scrub it from the race.
A brand-new breed is being bred —
The office baboon, born and trained.
When "Neo-crap" is fully spread,
The world will be a penned domain.
And once they form the ruling mass,
All human hope will face its doom —
For we let herds and fools surpass
And seed the world with evil’s bloom.
-------------------------
Tautology
Pink roses, rosy bright,
Oily, thick, and shining white.
No threat in sight — but still they reign,
The new fascists rise again.
Their "kindness" hides a twisted face,
And "care" brings only cold disgrace.
Massacres masked as "healing" ways —
A peak of their audacious plays.
-------------------------
Concentration Camp
The fools and swine, they are the base
Of this world's foolish, vile embrace.
Is foolery now all that's left?
A new Führer rises, cold and deft,
To craft the fools, and send them blind,
Like cattle led to slaughter, mind.
It’s hard to be your truest self
In a world where madness reigns in stealth.
If you won’t join the fools or swine,
Then you’re lost — there’s no design.
This pair has turned the world to rot,
A REAL hell, by their own plot.
The damned are here, yet swine still crave
To feast, to riot, misbehave.
The fool builds camps from rotting ground,
A world gone sick, where hell is found.
-------------------------
Wings
With wings of truth, your sight will clear—
Only then will you take flight,
Leaving decay and darkness here,
To find the Spirit's peaceful light.
-------------------------
New Kolobok
The Kolobok rolled into soup,
Distracted by the creatures’ game.
Think you’re not as dumb as you look?
If so, then play the foolish same...
-------------------------
The Grayness of the Zombie World and Its Box
"Topics" — memes,
Hell’s own schemes,
Filth, "deals" to sell.
And we remain mute as hell.
Clips, the box —
A true paradox,
No rules at all.
A brilliant mind —
But it falls.
-------------------------
In the Mouse Trap
The world is cheese, no lutes or lyres —
A lyre spoils the appetite.
For "spirituality," just choir’s fires.
As for the mind? It’s near its end:
The CowID shows the bottom’s depth —
Few minds are left to count or trace.
If there’s cheese, it matters not:
In the trap, we eat and rest.
What’s most important, after all,
Is what each does, for what they’re worth.
To pride oneself in Hell’s own fall—
As long as there’s a stock of cheese on Earth.
-------------------------
The Fools
To spin a tale,
A fine art, they say?
These fools will hail
The darkest lies, come what may.
They’ll ask for more,
Add fuel to lies' fire.
Nonsense, madness, rot —
The world a tightening wire.
-------------------------
Stupidity, Grayness
Stupidity, dullness,
Rudeness, and greed.
Endless lies,
Selfishness, need.
Savagery, decay—
All in dismay:
To slaughter!
No delay...
-------------------------
Superconductor
The "conductor" burns away,
If he goes too deep in Evil’s sway.
A poet’s flight — he falls or fades:
The "super-conductor" lasts but a blaze.
-------------------------
Nothing to Remember
No friendship left, no love to see,
For women, none, no memory.
If art’s a strain that weighs you down,
Cut all ties, and wear no crown!
-------------------------
"Sleep" and moan; nonsense, fear in mind—
The fools, the monsters, they surround.
It’s not about the things they’re blind,
But about how they’ve sold it down.
-------------------------
Chronicles of the Fall
Anthologies of verse,
When fools decay, so vile, so terse,
If poems mirror their disgrace,
Yet still remember light’s embrace,
The fools will bend, the madness spread—
Wild nonsense, everywhere ahead.
-------------------------
The Likeness of Food
To let them use you, that's a sin,
A mark so deep, a dreadful thing.
To steal's a lesser crime, they say,
Adultery? Just laugh and play.
The world is built on those we serve,
And from them, all we seek to curve.
But fear the thief who subtly hides,
And turns true friendship into lies.
For bit by bit, they'll tear you down,
Until you can't create, or crown,
To love, to think, to feel, to do —
You’ll be but food, a shell, and through.
-------------------------
Long Strategy
In art, take heed —
Measure every rare resource,
Shut the door, don't heed
The chaos, stay on course.
No need for haste —
Time's yours to claim.
Don’t seek joy in waste;
Seek not the fool’s fame.
The meaning's clear —
REALIZATION’s key.
The rest’s just cheer,
Or fools’ mockery.
-------------------------
All poems are located at address https://vykhovanets.yzz.me