Beat poetry "The birds and my poem about Apocalypse".
Part 1. 2020-s. Rap again in fashion
The Rap, became fashionable among Russian teenagers first in 1990-s, but later Prodigy's chemical techno-pop overshadowed the rap, because the Rap was not so much popular, represented in Russia mostly by Dr. Alban, while all dance halls of Russia have been playing the Chemical techno-pop that we can call also Techno dance music for dance floor, that is the style represrnted by the Prodigy, later the Chemical Brothers, etc. We may guess the fashion on the Prodigy, Chemical Brothers, etc, was influenced by narcotic pills, consumed during all that night dance.
The joy of peaceful and lusty 2000-s goes slow down in 2022, when government starts to indoctrinate youth, demands to practice austerity, exercise sport, but the youth already has problem with drug addiction after narctotic 2000-s, so the youth wants to say something in bad words to government, sort of "f... off, we need fun, dance floor, and pills", but the chemical techno-pop has no words, so the rap with clear texts slowly goes in fashion again, and all the songs as a rule have the topic "government, f... off, we want fun".
I can imitate something of the usual pattern of poetry of the Rap of drug addicts:
Police, you are bad people (swear word), Police, you are bad people (swear word).
Repeat 2 times.
Police, you are bad people (swear word), Police, you are bad people (swear word).
Repeat 2 times.
Police, you are bad people (swear word), Police, you are bad people (swear word).
Repeat 2 times.
Other style of the rap, we find among more or less rich Russian youth, that really are exercising sport, feeling healthy, not dependendent on pills, but like rarely to dance a bit and have a pill too. The rap singers of the sort of the Russian Yuppies' strata are more tricky, they may talk rap about politics, relation with friends, sex, and money as fundamental value of Yuppies. They also like computer, and are nearly all hackers, can work with crypto, sort of Antifa, or kind of dissidents, Che Guevarras, they are protagonists of modern fashionable movies and computer games, based on movies. They may brag that they drink vodka, or on the contary, criticize drunkards, accusing them im selling their homeland for a bottle of vodka, they may say something about anti-war's way of thinking, and Ernest Hemingway's Good-bye to arms seems to be well-known title among them, they may mention Harry Potter, whom they had watched on Netflix when were children in a Moscow kindergarten, or other protagonists of other movies like that.
I guess the Poetry of the Rap mostly has the modern view regarding a gender, that Charlie Kirk had identified as a Sodom and Ghomorra, but it seems many artists are bragging that they are sort of traditional Orthodox men, because their strata has mixed closely with the underworld, where the Sodomites are severely punished inside of the cell of male prison, so they may read in the Rap how they kill all enemies, etc., to show that they are normal men, courageous, full of masculinity, often misogynistic. The gender mode yet depends on the place, I suppose. If they have a concert in London, they may say that they are complete sexual minorities, but in Russian province, where a possibillity of arrest with landing in a cruel Russian jail may be real, they may swear that they are totally misogynistic, courageous, cruel, kill all enemies with no mercy, kings of jail, criminal heroes robbing banks, hacking computers, stealing all your money, heroes of war, at every line swearing badly with vulgar, shameful words, so, imitating in such way the Russian criminal slang.
The swear language is used in every line of both styles, in the Rap of the poor drug addicts, and in the Rap of the intelligent Yuppies of Moscow City. The outdated British word Yuppy, obviously, has yet rarely used among modern Russian youth, and I have called the word Yuppy just for ease to explaine the nature of the style, oriented on some kind of the youth of the middle class, or class 2 and 3, as British sociology defines the classes, white and blue collars, the rich young boys and girls from the well-off families of Moscow and Saint-Peterburg.
We can call conditionally that Слава КПСС (Slava KPSS) represents the sort of Yuppiesh rap, while Каспийский груз (Kaspiyskiy gruz) represents the rap of poor drug addicts, but it's vague to precisely determine who is who, because we have no borders in poetry.
In conclusion, I may notice, that in the USA I see the style Hip-hop was always competing with the Rap. I think the Hip-Hop is a kind of the similar style as the Rap, but you need to jump while saying the text. In Russia, it seems the Hip-Hop is less popular, because the Russian youth, if want to jump, they used to dance the Chemical narcotic techno on the night dance floor of the acid Moscow dance halls.
The Hip-Hop in the USA seems to be also a sort of the poetry art that we find among more or less healthy teenagers, who are still able to jump, among skate boarders, while American teenagers, who were already too drank to jump, they usually murmuring the Rap, waving the gun in one hand, and cigarette with drugs in other. So, we can say the Hip-Hop is a sort of sport, because you should have skill to drive the skate board, while the Rap is, in general, the songs of American drunkards, junkies, criminals.
Why the Russian youth have liked the Rap, while avoiding the Hip-Hop, I don't know precisely. Maybe the Russian youth were forbidden to jump somehow, especially at the concerts in Kremlin, where it may look inappropriate, weren't they?
On the other hand, I think the Russian youth abroad, sorta young opposition, may like to jump under the sounds of Hip-Hop on the beach of the Atlantic, but they continue to like the Rap in Russian language as part of their nostalgia about the drunken homeland; or the Rap may be the song of protest against the war, a heroic song similar Bob Dylan, when you cannot jump with a big guitar, a drum, and a harmonica, so you only should tap with shoes?
I cannot say for sure about it. Joan Baez also rarely jumps, so, yes, maybe it is connected somehow with the heroic American style of Bob Dylan and Joan Baez, who were rarely jumping on the stage, weren't they?
Part 2. 2020-s. Poetry of traditional poets (poets, who may have publications on paper)
... That seems to be boring, the Part 2. I may write that later. Should I read all the examples on the Web somewhere, in the Russian online magazines?
Part 3. 2020-s. Poetry of Apocalypse
I think often about nuclear war. My thoughts we may call the poetry of Apocalypse. I saw during a nightmare that drones, flying above roof in dark clouds, had searched for me, because the military industry hates me. The New Order needs the nuclear military budget to steal money of taxpayers. We face again the nuclear military race as was during the Cold war 50 years ago, so there will be again very poor Health Service, poor Education, and poor Humanity, tomorrow, here and now.
Chapter 1. New Order scares me.
Oh, mafia, I am afraid of you.
You are kings of the land and village,
You have luxury cars,
And nuclear arms,
You drink cacao,
Play fortepiano,
All women dream about your established business,
All boys want to enlist in mass in your army,
When you have died, your ass kicking by everyone,
Whores piss on your grave.
New Order, New Order, New Order;
I'm afraid of the New Order;
It smells as a burning meat, a barbecue,
Kills a sparrow and a cuckoo,
Kills its own army, kills randomly everyone,
Don't kill yourself by an accident,
You have no measure, dumb as a woodpecker.
Chapter 2. The New Order comes to my kitchen.
I may buy a new kitchen to write a kitsch,
Because we need Socialism, Opennes, and Rebuilding of kitchen.
The new rebuilt kitchen should have a Finnish sink,
And a Swedish stove, you shouldn't recall Auschwitz crematoriums,
And the luxury freezer from the advertisements,
I could show how prepare a tomato salad,
I don't care about the Genocide everywhere on the Planet,
The Genocide was organized by the German Oligarchy.
There was the war on the terror and anarchy,
The Moscow Oligarchy has said that they all the way protect us,
The Queen had jumped from a helicopter before the rumors of war were born.
All the Noble and Rich crowd never has asked me if I agree to die,
The Washington Oligarchy says Russian people should fight the Moscow Oligarchy,
Why? Should I kill the Russian Oligarchy?
Because Washington, London, and Moscow Oligarchies have created the Genocide?
No, says American Scientist, You are guilty only of the Ukrainian Genocide,
Because the Genocide in Yemen, Gaza and Sudan is not of your business quite,
But before the Auschwitz camp was born, I had bought the beautiful kitchen,
But situation has changed a lot since then,
Because of Khodorkovskiy, who had a quarrel with Dzerdzhinskiy,
All the Universities of the World are the kitchen,
Where the Business Oligarchy is cultivating their slaves,
The poor youth seldom may enlist in the Universities,
But You are children of the Oligarchy,
Your parents were educated in Moscow University
By Stalin, crucifying Christianity.
You always say, Karl Marx is good,
You say, You was a Robin Hood,
While I'm a simpleton,
Poverty's a sin,
Spoil your journey in limousine,
I stole the money of the poor,
By imposing on them a high tax,
Exporting Siberia's oil and gas.
I said the Moscow Oligarchy was guilty,
You said, Ukraine is bleeding,
Kill the elephant in a china shop.
The Moscow Oligarchy, you are the same,
The Oligarchy was guilty of the mess,
The mess in my kitchen with Ukraine to bleed.
I may stop eating the meat,
I will be a vegetarian,
Get rid of the slaughterhouse,
I said to you and to the Oligarchy,
I refuse to eat a humanitarian,
The meat of chicken, mutton, Ukrainian soup,
But you said, kill an elephant,
Only kill the elephant, here and now.
You were sure, Ukraine would bleed,
But I have broken the luxury
Kitchen freezer apart,
I have set Ukraine free as a bird
To fly in the garden of sunflowers.
The kitchen will graze in the garden
Together with sparrows and tits,
Chicken be sent back to village,
Where chicken were born,
But you and the World Oligarchy,
Yet you should feel a guilt,
Because You have stolen the Obamacare,
You are a high placed crooked Anti-Christ,
Oligarchy was guilty of the Holocaust.
Chapter 3. The New Order and realism.
We are all writers of realism, I mean Ernest Hemingway, Francis Scott Fitzgerald and me.
I was born in the same way as Thomas Wolfe was born. The year when I was born depends on how you wish to see the year when I was born. I may say I was born tomorrow, because I smell the odour of tomorrow. It smells badly with the burning flesh of the New Holocaust. I think the Nuclear Catastrophe will happen next year, as if I was there in 2026 year, in the future.
The Russian Nuclear Plants were under drone attack all the 2025, so, that is why I think it may happen after all. The Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Plant is also nearly everyday under the drone attack. I have a logic to guess it may happen. I have mentioned the logic, and felt now at once myself as Aristotle, a man of science. If all the drones are flying around the Nuclear Sun, the Sun and drones may explode badly one day.
Maybe I was born in the Aushwitz camp, that is why I can smell the future. I was born tomorrow in the Aushwitz camp. I may remember as a German officer has said, Naturlich, and then all children were killed in the gas chamber. Yes, it was tomorrow's year of 1944 or 1945. It was a victory day. The Victory Day of the Burning Flesh.
When I was born, it was a bad day, probably, similar to the day that Job is complaning about in the Bible. Then I had lived for some time badly and became a Christian believer when was about 25. I'm a terrible xenophobe. I'm afraid of the Sodom and Ghomorra all the time since the time when I had been baptized. When I had believed in Jesys Christ, I started to understand that the Earth was the domain of the unclean spirits and the Anti-Christ. Only the miracle of Jesus Christ may help us fight the dark side of the Anti-Christ.
I have today again a bad day, because instead of having a rest, I was writing the new prose and poetry. I have started to write a bit in a commercial way, because the dark side whispers to me to make money. The camel will die, but never goes through an ear of a needle. So, I don't care. I guess the Anti-Christ has gained an advantage with the changing my style to a commercial one, so I should change my style back to the style of a commercial failure.
It's November 5, 2025, and a very bad autumn, with the drones flying in the dark clouds above the roofs. The drone dies in darkness with a sound of explosion, but it happens rare here in the town. The drones are exploded usually on the outskirts, in the fields, where potato and grain cultivated, in forest, or above villages. If the drone exploded near a human being, the human may have a shock, injury, brain hemorrhage, loss of hearing ability.
Chapter 4. The New Order and Russian literature.
Leo Tolstoy says the best way for a Christian is to work on the rail road, because when you work on the soil, cultivating potato and grain, you have a problem of thinking a lot about the future. You think how potato will have a price in the winter, and can you redress your debts, etc. The work on the rail road is much more beautiful. You think nothing. You come home from the rail road, pray god and go to bed. Your children are car wagons, and you wife is a locomotive engine. You support hippies and troubadurs, getting them free by train to the next station. Riding along rail road, you read novels by Ken Kesey, and think how much beer Americans can drink per annum, and other nonsense.
If the Nobel Committee tries to blackmail you with a Peace Prize, you refuse the dirty money similar to Sartre.
But what you can do if the New Order catches you? The Gulag camp is cold as the Bosh posh freezer. The trees sleep in the polar night, with wood crackling from the frost. Nobody wants to help you. You hear a train passing past far away in the white freezing horror. You have no ticket. You pray the God may help you to recover from the forest of cold. You want back to your jolly train "Moscow - Saint-Petersburg", where a stuard giving away to passengers the hot tea with a beatiful refined sugar box.
You feel that the North is your grave of cold. You think again lots about Lazarus, and the Bible prophet Jonah, swallowed by the Gulag monster. Maybe you think that hippies were stupid, because too drunk with the drugs and the bright Sun of California. Hippies understand nothing of literature, neither of poetry.
Emily Dickinson and the sisters Brontës were afraid of tuberculosis, because the illness was very dangerous in the 19th century. The tuberculosis is similar to the cold of the North, you think. The tuberculosis is very bad illness, but doesn't exist in the North. The bacteria of the tuberculosis cannot endure the cold of the North. You die here just from the cold and hatred; the New Order hates you, hates every kind of humanity. The New Order pretends it likes Leo Tolstoy, but it lies. It hates Leo Tolstoy. The New Order likes only itself. The New Order hates its neighbor, hates the Bible. The New Order is Anti-Christ.
Part 5. Poetry of nonfiction.
It seems I should end the nonfiction with some bright conclusion. I have written the piece, a sort of the Beat poetry, inspired by Jack Kerouac's biography, that I have read on the Wikipedia. We may call my poetry "The birds and my poem about Apocalypse", where the birds means the poets.