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Sociopods. Poems about life.


Sociopods. Poems about life

 


   

AR

   

2.3001. Absolute truth     AR AR

... what is not  …

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2.3002.     AR AR

The raw truth tastes just awful  - 
in the throat does not climb, you sit-you choke; 
like an earthen potato   
                      extremely fresh and disgusting…

 
Skilfully prepared truth 
refined by the depth of meaning of taste; 
sensible people admire her,   
      and the loud ones are already shaking, 
    in the depths of her   
without a cry they shrivel and bend…   

The truth chewed in the mouth  -   
it tastes terrible; 
Sane spit, writhing, 
and loud, wildly rejoicing,   
              shouting:  "disgusting!  disgusting!  disgusting!" 

*

 
What about this world?…  The world is like the world… 
It looks like cheese and consists of holes. 
At first glance, it didn't even seem to be there, but so what?   
Hell, you're banging your forehead against the glass. 

And feeling like a set of numbers..., 
in your deeds you look for meaning 
and think:  "that's nonsense... 
who thought of you like that..." 

The motivation system is simple:  for the sake of the rattling rain, 
that matrix was made of sand to sift the chaff from the grain. 

It has sets of control commands, 
feedbacks and colored garlands; 
the task, in general, is extremely clear  - 
it is not necessary for the squirrel to get off the wheel.

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2.3003. Angels.     AR AR

In a bucket of slop, sinful souls languished;   
he silently poured them into the cauldron and began to stir.… 
they stewed and cursed,                     
and he, like a stone, remained silent. 

Then he poured their Alembic into the cube., 
they prayed and begged for mercy.,   
and he was laughing with a strange smile. 
and he didn't want to talk as before. 

          And soon their voices fell silent.… 
when suddenly 
  from the brew of sin was born   
                  Angel White   
                      and flew away somewhere in the clouds… 
 

 
Angels were disassembled into feathers, 
                decorated the walls with them, 
in the temples - the consolation of mortals, 
                   the needle towers rose into the sky.… 
  
with huge arches to 
            anyone could climb through them, 
at least twice in my life…    
  
Really, 
    the higher or wider The Sinner, 
                            the more he is cramped and has little space, 
but, thank God, there is a correct method  -   
                  build towers higher, 
                                  at least two hundred meters… 

*

Poochebrod stared., 
Popeye poochebrodalsya, 
                    shouting from the throat outwards: 
"rejoice siesekondno!  rejoice in the second! 
dusting, gnawing clay dishes.… 
who is there next kaminishch will throw, 
I don't know, but he's going to trash everything here..." 

good day, ladder 
enough cheap truths, 
I see they put you on the escalator, 
crawling into the floor deep below… 
the thought sprouted the thickest hair, 
I don't see how many more of her are moving; 
          Shar she's acutely feisty, 
wiry, clawed, stabbing… 

I twisted the worm in my brain, 
so that he devoured the fear to the bottom, 
petrified there and Rod   
became ...  iron-nickel concrete… 

the grasshopper is not weak  -   
                              he's quick,   
there are more blacksmiths in it, 
than in other iron mines. 

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2.3004.     AR AR

And every beggar paid in gold for the rent of gold, 
to wear gold and not seem like a beggar. 

He wanted to see the truth, he wanted to know the truth, 
but I was surprised to encounter such a moment: 
the Black was painted white, and the White was lowered into the mud 
and the hares already pray to the wolf god, and the jackals, like angels, are whitewashed… 
the old Angels have their wings torn off and Satan's brand impaled on them.; 
and from afar you can't say anything, your eyes are already lying, 
words do not mean anything at all, and, of course, they do not allow to drip deeper. 

And to protect the secrets of the hidden put talented loudmouths,   
screaming like they've been bitten and slashed when someone passes by. 

Children dressed in mourning gnawed on nuts. ; 
their teeth melted, their eyes blackened.; 
and on the dirty street leeches swam and mercilessly fattened., 
feeding on the carrion rotting in the purses of the rich.

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2.3005.     AR AR

"Dust will return to dust"  - 
all honors are rendered to the deceased… 
man is free,   
whose journey is over ... 
forever. 

No white, no black 
and time does not run. 
No regrets of the past 
and tomorrow does not frighten. 
Grievances calmed down,   
desires subsided; 
happy man from the past,   
whose journey is over  - 
he slept forever and sleeps... 

What do you live to peaceful   
from a shrunken past? 
Why are you here?   
Earthly everyday life is lived… 
Happy man,   
whose journey is over  - 
calm, finally ...

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2.3006.     AR AR

He mixed up his life   
with a dusty road   
under the Deep Sky; 
the earth with its down was closer,   
but I wanted somewhere higher…

went to talk to God...   
but somewhere out there! 
A queue with no end 
  - with a shaft… 
He was told:  "look for more...  wait", 
  "but it's too late  - 
        flowed away, the rains ended,   
and it became all frivolous… 

The man who studied man   
for a human,   
suddenly understood  - 
he himself is very far away   
from the very first   
the reference person: 
the very first man   
he looked very much like a man., 
and the very last man 
  was more like an artist   
                                          or a trashy poet. 

Sexual obsession   
and the social optimism of elegant Rams,   
broadcasting about prospects   
for walking the herd to a dead end   
fat sheep;

A dead end with perspective...  they say it's fate… 
the devil knows, but for some reason 
                    I don't really believe it, and I don't want to go there. 

But, really, no one asks, 
                  kick, smiling, in the ass, 
they say, " it is necessary!  We must!   
      Quick, quick...  Don't stop!"  - they say. 

The plot is of course with intrigue and the intrigue is strong... 
it is not clear who and why... it is not clear only when.

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2.3007.     AR AR

I fly around the ward like a paper airplane 
with a cardboard propeller and a paper soul.

Glass insects, frozen on the walls, do not blink, watching me., 
and the flies that rule the world are Nagas.

Some flies hid in the rivers, some are long dead; 
flies in the twilight gnaw nuts and such flies are the majority.

 

I know you're on fire and something's eating at you;   
you give freedom to bugs whenever you can.

Inside the chitinous armor they have little space, 
you bring them to light with a gesture.

And gray ants eat bread from your hands, 
a needle pierced their eyes - now they are slaves.

And only playful dragonflies chatter merrily, 
                    they have to live until winter, 
and then wait for frosts.

They will not survive the cold-with meat, 
but they still have an option...  look close.

The bugs died, very sorry, do not worry, 
but their armor, let them take beautiful dragonflies...

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2.3008.     AR AR

Light shakes the chandelier in the kitchen.   
"we call Zarathustra to us."; 
the planet sways beneath our feet   
people-drove more than expected.

Back thoughts push front thoughts   
straight ahead to the barricades., 
evil manifested to rise:   
"Gentlemen, we need to fight urgently!"

It is quite unpleasant for the eye, 
but our entire Gray race is in danger."  - 
there are no places now even in the toilet, 
  we all feel like targets in a shooting gallery.

Squeezing space and hiding in the shadows,   
will soon have cancer to live on your knees; 
yesterday greatness, today prose   
"that's a strange position we have.

The hum of a turbine instead of tap water   
- how the truth flows from the blue canvas screen, 
the strong perish, burning in the struggle like a flame,   
and in the crevices of the weak breed, fat, tribe.

And, presumably, the second hug   
much nicer than the crucifixion; 
everything is twisted in one spiral with a controversial, 
but absolutely honest ethyl-morality. 
 
The Eagle is now, having lost the crown,   
resembles a cow, 
which circles and circles the field   
along the Common Orbit of the straw stacks,... 
 
Without a long Root as a symbol of faith,   
he and she became slaves of the system  -   
so it has always been and so it will be after,   
but there are some questions.

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2.3009.     AR AR

Empty eye sockets, predatory faces, 
truth, visible to the first comer   
a truth unknown to anyone, 
the prohibitions are faceless, staring   
and the rules written on the ice. 
A trifle made by the main law,   
"the essence of things, trodden into the mud. 
Heads pregnant with stupidity 
... thoughts as viscous as ointment. 

The meaninglessness of meaningless ideas; 
meaningless games.,   
who lives for the first time in the world, 
not taken seriously   
and frivolous for consideration by Congress. 
 
Time-stepping clock   
and the ticking kettles on the stoves, 
raging fires in the furnaces   
and quiet Birch roofs. 
 
Lemon, running away drop by drop in the rain;   
bow, predicting spring thunderstorms; 
spring, like a dream, 
  and a dripping dream of rain with a tear. 
 
Everything has happened more than once, everything will happen more than once, 
the flowers will bloom again and bloom with paper madness… 
 
And the appearance of struggle is the illusion of battles, 
like perishable flowers, like ancient visions.

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2.3010 .     AR AR

Alien people under the rule of time, 
murmuring timidly Ford, 
birch bark timelessness   
and the noise of the crowd, and the trampling of feet…

Where before the trumpets sang copper,   
where ashes used to smolder and sing,     
there now reigns untimely,   
fire and ashes of burned bodies.

In a horizontal landscape   
grotesque moving faces 
cars-fish in the Water streets and wings,   
waking birds…

And puddles break under your feet,   
I quicken my pace-almost swim     
and in the reflections of the windows I hear sounds,   
but from them, rather, I run.

The city has its own desires,   
my city never sleeps, 
But sometimes it burns to the ground   
and still burning until morning. 
 
The crowd rages, the crowd sways;   
cars, like firecrackers, burst, 
and their owners are rolling in the dust,   
hysterical laughter suffocates. 
And everything in the madness breaks down,   
the crowd sways like a wave,   
under the rhythms of music rocking 
she is agitated and dizzy.

A visiting guest kicks with his heel,   
and the quiet-eyed blooms; 
in the crowd the many-voiced Jester laments 
and something is screaming, screaming.

And in a copper mirror deceptive   
ringing, reflecting silver, 
proclaims the king God,   
or maybe, again, a buffoon.

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2.3011.     AR AR

Twisted, twisted, crooked, 
  like a mirror, trembling above your head 
and, separating the step from the void,   
the ringing of silence blows my head.

It freezes a millimeter away  from the end;   
a step is needed, but there is a question "Where?" 
The balance is so fragile, the web is so thin   
"at the precipice  you can't see the bottom at all.

Three horsemen:  they have three horses,   
there are three roads and only one goal; 
definitely, everything is predetermined,   
but still something is wrong…

Evening mud dies in the dust,   
in clods of Earth, in a splash of water,         
under the Pines a soft silence   
creeps like a shadow along the night road. 

She was only two steps away.   
from noise  at the beginning and from the end; 
rain without loving, without fearing, without trembling,   
she's having fun, life is so loving.

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2.3012.     AR AR

Here is a procession down the street   
in bulk, rushing forward and rushing, 
washing debris to the shores,   
to the overhanging houses.

I see trams in the corners, 
passion of incomprehensible animal fun,   
morning fog over the factory         
and some rumbling news.

Breaking the shell of morning   
and pouring rubble into puddles, 
day creeps out of the corner   
"like a turkey maroon comb."

He suggests three ways, but they're all shit, 
I'll have to do it - as always and climb out the window again.

There is no secret and you just need to have time   
find someone to give in the face and dare to deceive.

With lawn bent grass blind  arrogance will come down, 
when December will shed its snow on the noise of the calendar.

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2.3013. The beginning.     AR AR

Once Upon a time there was a man  - 
a man like a man, nothing special. 
So ... unless he couldn't sit still, 
                                          everything was fidgeting for some reason somewhere. 

Lived for three, worked for seven; 
      did what others did not do; 
            I thought about things that others didn't think about. 
And one night he had a wonderful dream, 
in which the question sounded one interesting, 
with the answer committed clear and very specific. 

"What is it  The universe?"   
**************************** 
              "Oh, come on!!!  Really ?  Oh, my ! 
The dream was long ... years passed… 
30 years alien war lasted, 
but as he died, he remembered those words. 
in a world burned to ashes. 
Closing my eyes yesterday, 
he fell asleep forever.

And then 
the sky laughed overhead, 
30 years of war behind my back.

And he's alive 
returned home today, 
alive again. 

I opened my eyes and woke up… 
 

 
From above they drew a picture,   
set the task and defined the Messiah; 
3 years puffing and puffing steam, he picked up the words, 
which would reveal the topic…

Every time he told a new person   
Thought and saw in the eyes of incomprehension or   
grinning, he thought of a few new words. 
And so, gradually, he had them. 
                                                more and more… 
From an ordinary person 
he became an absolute fanatic,   
full of all sorts of words, ideas, solutions.

Like a cupbearer scooping with a huge ladle 
from a huge barrel of wine, he took answers   
"like a magician in a rabbit hat." 
Endless energy permeated his body, 
goosebumps ...

Where the blank walls had been,   
doors sprouted now.... 
When he was beaten, he laughed . , 
when they laughed at him, he rejoiced., 
when you weren't paying attention:  took off his pants, 
            showing bare ass   
and it made him much more visible.

He did not recognize authorities, did not believe in other people's words...                         
He was told "Why do you need it?"  - "It is necessary" - answered.

He wasn't asked when he was chosen. 
Complained, Nothing is clear   
"he swapped words in sentences. 
Shouted " wildest nonsense!"   
- Retorted "with a new one this is always..." 
Responded then, it was 100 times,   
explained the nuances;  change the picture sometimes,  -

"Nobody needs it!"   
Grinned:  the "opinion" of no one is important." 
Whispered:  "it's pointless and hopeless.",   
  - I explained, the essence is to go continuously.

Summarized "no practical application",  –   
and he – " think before you make judgments." 
And it is not necessary that all, 
It is important that these 12   
          they understood that this is their mission on Earth: 
the old world is going nowhere, it can not be saved… 
    And there is even no point in breaking it - he himself goes to die with a song, 
  and their task is simple-it's time to start building a new world, 
                                                            while enough raw materials… 
On this path 
his faith was tempered to that degree, 
when a mere thought could change reality. 
And she began to change... 
  * 
We are building a new world. 
And we need pioneers… 
... join us! 

Bald and very gentle   
I kiss the shiny skull in the hickey, 
I rub it with a cloth, admire it to tears.

My wind hasn't died down yet; 
he is the one who opens the window to the North   
in his madness he is great.

A vicious prophet teaches rules,   
sent from the ceiling, 
everyone can open the door wide 
and live like this for the rest of the day.

In the realm of the merry and drunk   
the train goes downhill, 
Rotten prophets doom him, 
and he groans, but lives.

Thousands of years under the Sun,   
hammering a bolt into the Chiefs ' orders,   
we're rolling right into the Sun   
under the laughter of merry days.

Minutes are so short, but we must have time: 
seconds pass, lost, 
so shaky and so easy   
silence trembles and melts  …

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2.3014.     AR AR

The night before  Stepana, 
          which lasts a year, 
the pendulum will turn to the side 
at the hour when the president sings.

In a world without sin there will be fasting., 
like gruel 10 years from the morning   
something somewhere will creak, break off,   
        releasing the spring from the trigger...

Strings will ring,   
in the water, the fish will go deaf, as if 
what you slurp,   
it will become suitable for speaking. 

Sweet woman, legs dangling from the ceiling, 
Scream:  "attention!  at ease!!!" 
Will say:  "you should ...  Take it! 
A-no...  so scram...  to hell with it."

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2.3015.     AR AR

And here  he's from the podium  
kicking, trampling, and shoving. 
straight from the throat to the head, 
through the teeth flew out, buzzing,   
and wasps and gadflies crawled into his ears.

There was no sweet honey,   
honey has long been sweet over;  
fiery chili pepper   
"instead of... instead of Clover." 

To fill the brains,   
to…  to twist the tree 
wooden, to burn in the brain…   
green mold in the brain.

To everyone who stood,   
staring blankly,  
suddenly I felt like inside…   
how everything inside melted. 

That grin is stupid,   
face contorted, straightened 
and like a fly, not getting out of the syrup,   
gone... gone and gone.

And that the air is crisp   
twisted premonition gloomy, 
jaws twisting into a scream… 
  in the cry of tomato 

                                                        skewed scary.

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2.3016. Cutting money.     AR AR

Burning wings in acid rain   
and sinful thoughts in your pocket, 
I swore I wouldn't come back here,   
but my God decided otherwise.

Yesterday flows down like a tear   
and freezes on the fly 
scraps of wings burn,   
but they never burn.

I cut the money with a trembling hand,   
torment them and burn them; 
the devil inside them is alive,   
I'm killing him.

Bulldozer through cities,   
by shopping centers 
leveling Paradise   
- I'm opening a new one.

Will clenched into a fist,   
the pressure got stronger, 
presses and presses the temple   
from the feeling that it is necessary.

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2.3017.     AR AR

Electric Light in the eyes,   
like a light bulb in the dark; 
the far one looks ahead   
the neighbor under my feet.

A neighbor, it seemed, a friend,   
distant, it seemed - the enemy, 
well, if essentially,   
everyone was a fool. 
In the mirror reflecting,   
shadow twists his lips, 
"do what you want, laziness,   
I'll rest, " he says. 

And like snow in winter,   
naked sitting alone, 
feeling the ice all over my body   
and a little fire inside. 

And in the morning a warm shower   
out of icy water 
drive him away 
from one hole to the other.

Locked away from guests,   
build dreams out of sand 
on the shore of the White Sea   
and its red water.

And, wavering, a shadow 
... the space above your head 
Dripping like a tear,   
... in a puddle under a streetlight.

A new spark of the day   
smoke from cigarettes 
it will stretch like a string,   
catching the dawn on the run.

Light bulbs overheating   
happiness will not burn, 
hinting that light   
we must save it for the night.

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2.3018.     AR AR

Master charlatans…   
          the hypnotic Rabbit is a relative of the toad, 
sinister demons and creatures in gold, 
living in an eternal drunken stupor;

beasts roaming the bronze roofs 
and their political hookers are whores,   
parading the sidewalks  - 
they became a lot, a lot, a lot 
in this barbaric and screaming bedlam.

Jeering crowds,   
like sheep bleating and mooing, 
Their shepherds pull the strings   
and make them dance.

And earlier puppeteers were difficult:   
try to tie a rope to each, 
and now everything is extremely simple:   
all in the web of the internet and TV. 

But nothing as said once:   
nothing lasts forever under the moon… 
and if you try very hard,   
then the cards will add up to any alignment.

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2.3019.     AR AR

Curved into a goat horn, a quiet rock crept up, 
he told everyone that he was a prophet, but he was really God.

Its purpose is the fight against ground squirrels   
combine with rabbit breeding, 
to kill many birds with one stone, 
    without shooting, without suffocating  from laughter colic.

Stones froze by time, bloomed by spring in the spring, 
sprouted a pure seed with a golden faceted border.

Taking a sharp knife, you turn the corners of your mouth into a smile, 
to always be ready to go by the rules.

You must smile and be silent,   
chew your bread, don't perform, 
if they say Run-Run,   
they will order "stop"  "freeze, die.

The world is not created for you, you do not open your mouth, 
be glad, since the honor was entrusted to you 
          being a cog in a huge wheel.

And you will perform   
"starve to death, 
how no one needs a spare part   
without a clan-tribe.

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2.3020.     AR AR

My voice... 
I lift it higher,   
there is little room for him below,   
he needed it, he really needed it.   
roam the rooftops; 
it doesn't need collisions..., 
no need for barriers and walls, 
he needed to breathe deeply...,   
become light, become shadow.

Foot touches   
on the yellow skin of the cheek 
nasty crawl in the mouth, 
like crayfish on the bottom of the river; 
buzzing from afar   
needle penetrates the brain,   
it must be time... 
I get up, they came for me.

It'll all be over soon… 
        my soft ashes will live 
                                in a spacious jar.

I have very little for some reason nothing 
and very much for some reason, when a lot; 
I want to be in the middle of everything, 
I want to be everywhere a little.

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