JJFBbennett

  Cryo Unit:  confirmation and protocol The voice, a sterile, disembodied presence that has become as familiar as my own thoughts, began its report. "Status: Your Brass Monkey cryo-unit is engaged. Internal temperature regulation is optimal." A faint hum, almost imperceptible through the thick insulation of the unit, confirmed its words. I felt the gentle thrum of the cryo-fluid circulating, a constant reminder of the fragile balance being maintained within my metallic sarcophagus . "External forces, such as extreme G-load, confirm the slingshot maneuver is active, exploiting Delta-Nine traffic gravitational pull for maximum velocity." The words brought with them a subtle shift in pressure, a barely discernible tremor that resonated deep within the reinforced shell of my vessel. Delta-Nine, a scar of immense antimatter , was now a critical point in our journey, its colossal gravitational field bending space and time to propel us into the unthinkable anomaly. Are w...

  We are going in (Verse 1) Our energy, it's draining, draining low. Our reserves, dwindling, dwindling. Faces glow, a strained, weary show. So weary. A crisis, a crisis at hand. The Primary Trade Lane, gripped. So tightly gripped. Delta-Nine, a nightmare. It's about to make us slip. Just slip. (Chorus) But then, a presence. A presence. A hospitality's call, on the fringe. The very fringe of uncharted space. Before we fall. We fall. The anomaly. A desperate hope. In the night. Their whole mission, hanging. Hanging in the dim, fading light. So dim. (Bridge) Yeah, we're going in. Going in. With a whisper. And a plea. Into the unknown. The unknown. For all the world to see. To see. The ozone, thin. So thin. Despair in the air. Just despair. But something. Something is out there. Beyond compare. Beyond. (Chorus) The anomaly. A desperate hope. In the night. Their whole mission, hanging. Hanging in the dim, fading light. So dim. We're going in. Going in. With a whisper. A...

  Digital Mythologies Synthetic verses spill from the speaker grille, a slow hum in a room lit by a screen. Multifaceted. Diverse arrays of ghost-light painting the walls. For all things living, and the things that just… pulse. A nervous system of wire and glass. A sense of the dynamic, the feedback loop, the urgency. The immediate challenges are headlines scrolling in red under a static-filled sky. Transcending conventional aesthetic limitations… The glitch is the new sublime, The corrupted file, a sacred text. A world… increasingly shaped, moulded by god-like, power-based forces Humming behind the firewall, writing our stories In a language we can no longer read. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett, is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via  Blogger , YouTube , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art .  Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private FB hub:  https://www.facebook.com/share/g/18ythpSXPZ/ ...

 Navigating Inner Galaxies The anomaly entrypoint As I approach the swirling anomaly, a feeling of dread begins to settle in my stomach, cold and heavy like a lead weight. The ship trembles slightly, a subtle vibration that hums through the deck plates and up into the soles of my boots. I can see the glowing colours reflecting off the cockpit’s interior – shifting hues of cerulean, violet, and emerald, each one pulsing with an unnerving, otherworldly light. It’s mesmerising and terrifying all at once, a cosmic dance of light and shadow that draws me in, an intoxicating invitation to step beyond the confines of reality and into the unknown. The anomaly is incomprehensible Every sensor on the console blinks a warning, a cacophony of alarms that I've long since learned to ignore. My fingers, steady despite the growing unease, hover over the controls, ready to initiate evasive maneuvers if the anomaly shows any signs of aggression. I grip the console tighter, the cool metal grounding m...

  My life as a poem, part three Digitally Transfiguring IT THINKS MY MIND Belief has been organised My sicken mindset In my haste to make common sense Everything seemed under control I, as a serpent But where does identity begin and entity end Deep within, where my monster resides My need for a showcase My need for surprise My need to embellish My guild to build faith I, mirroring society  I, rethinking the ordinary I, self-sealing in theory, evidence and belief Poetry Genre:  Nihilist, dark ambient, industrial, avant-garde. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett, is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via  Blogger , YouTube , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art .  Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private FB hub:  https://www.facebook.com/share/g/18ythpSXPZ/ You can subscribe to my music via  YouTube Music , Spotify , iTunes, Apple Music and Soundcloud To support my art, feel free to ...

 Our paralysis The chaos swirls, a furious vortex. A single thought, soft yet firm, cuts through the noise. Don’t panic. Breathe. Our gaze turns inward, intense. Maybe the real anomaly… isn’t out there. The inner whisper repeats, a fragile anchor in the storm. A slow turn of the head in the dark. A flicker of understanding. It’s all in our minds. Our plunge is sudden as we pierce the surface of our fears, a vanishing into our psychological depths. Brilliant, laser-like thoughts fire from the core. A calm voice echoes from within the swirl, thoughtful. Then a louder shadow voice echoes from the depths, creeping to the edge of our  meaning. And that was when our paralysis set in. The Voice Inside The sleek Subi spacecraft, a silver dart against the inky black, edged cautiously towards a maelstrom of light in the void. Swirls of incandescent gas painted the cosmos in impossible hues, a cosmic anomaly beckoning them closer. Inside the cockpit, BK, her brow furrowed in concentratio...