Author of quotes: Eugene Bilichenko. Page 2

Two people are leading me.

All Kama Sutra recipes.

I am clearly the third in this tale.

I hate the bastards, but they can fight
First of all, the jerkiness is killing himself.

Do not any power:
The one in power, - that it is torn, -
and that between.

No - snow. The sky is white.
The poems turn into a craft.
From the world in retaliation, left winter.
In Iceland Santa went crazy.
In the square - people. They are silent.
And silently inhale tobacco Chad.
The rulers lie
Fringe - lie.
Screwed time in an iron whip.

Autumn... the... Slavs and Rus Borisogleb
We are talking about Hegel and Christ.
Our basement smells an underground sky:
Close - friends, and the conscience they have is pure.
They're all here: Esenin, Bodler, Vysotsky -
Came out of Paradise vodka in the bag to pound.
Our basement smells an underground sun
And at the top of the world reigns the night.
The right to remain climbs the left side.
Forever bitter wine under Dutch cheese.
Our cellars smell of the underground God
And upstairs sick godless world.
Where are you, scarlet flower, the flower?
Where are you, cool red lights?
In our cellars we do not Shine...
That's why we glow from within.

Someone to stand over the abyss.
Someone to pray to God.
He is incompetent. The usual mediocrity.
Of the world a lot.
Someone to give birth to Atlantis.
Someone working in the field.
Well, he has no talent! -
To hang myself now, or what?

Russian liberals. Their ideology in Russia, as in Ukraine has no less (if not more) legitimate controversy, the most important of which is that liberals are against violence, but only in relation to itself.

Dr. psycho will call an ambulance.
The roulette master - private will chip.
The former dog - pressured by her own cat
And, of course, ex-cat - mouse.
The one who fell asleep on a bed, you will Wake up in the urn.
In the cloud will rise - the one who rested in the grave.
Become the plaintiff by the defendant, clever - fool...
Will love us - those we loved.
Every mediocrity will be transformed in personality.
Rare schmuck is born from don Quixote.
Each hunter will be their own game:
The game will finally feel the taste of hunting.
Wings spread - each, Takasu weights.
Power-hungry - will be the object of revenge.
All paid, brother, in the sublunary world...
How are you there now?
In my place?

Drafts are worn to holes.
As the rain nerves stretched to the limit.
I wanted the Word to remake the world,
And the world is me with the words altered.