I feel as incremental jaks invisible across fifty lament chairs unto the wall staring at a five point table and three miles of wasteland dear reader, dear dearest of dearest reader of all readers. I am glad that you have found my safe-haven, my refuge of rhyme and fulminous subliminal poetry, my Battle Station. 'Cos I want to be be the president elect of the next generations of robots to come. I'll see then if I take up the job. Right now I am president of The Benoît Solar System and it's costing me a lots of time.I’ve actually conquered the TBdoubleS Star system singlehandedly. My Old junk new junk is slowly improving thanks to you who is reading know. My secret services are at your disposal dear poetry lover.
I am thinking of changing the title of my blog to 'Poet of the dimensions and astronaut of the sub conscious welcomes you to his blog so that you relax and enjoy rhyme'. I want Google and Bing and Yahoo to accept as me as part of the community and Fucked Up Poetry To Pass The Day ain’t helping me much. Slowly but slowly I will reach my one millionth word and take over the place. That’s the secret plan dear reader that only you and me know. Every day a verse to call upon is my engine my motto for you to reach the Fifth dimension.
I am that that thee cannot conceive create comprehend ascertain or even criticize. ‘Cos I don’t give an inch for your bullshit and morality and gonna stab you with my blows of prose and words and cunningly witted narco sentences. Thou art but a reflection in a mirror gazing at your loss and gain. A stock brokers pawn. A tax paying utility manipulated by a murderous system who has but one ambition. To f*ck you up so badly that when you’re finally old enough to enjoy your pension all that is left of you are organ donations for newer better functioning robots who pay more taxes than you do.
I am he that explores for new dimensions upon the background of my blog and finds new ways roundabout to insult your numbness and robot life life style in the vagabondry of my style. I have nothing to offer but the Fifth dimension, which I am slowly beginning to comprehend. O Yeah! I have nothing to offer than a couple of rhymes and cripts which will eventually become The Scriptures Of TBdoubleS Star System which I will then import to Planet Earth and beyond, infest the WWW.
Mister Backpain and me will bring you to the brink of collapse so that you become a soldier for my Endeavours. I wil brainwash you out off the stupidity called mankind. Once you have reached so far, there is no way back. You have made your first step to a new life and the universe becomes your domain and earth but a tiny blue planet filled with robot like human existence. The horizon is expanding and don’t miss the next trip outta here. Shuttles plenty. All you gotta do is read my rhyme and crime and poach the skies beyond my imagination. The sky is but a dye in blue and red and green purple full of mystery and mischief and trunks of light and glimmers of hope and radio active substances for you to enjoy. I am what I make who I conceive and who I discard and ascertain. The rest are lagging so far behind that I must stop and sit and get you aboard my space station and bring you to see my TBdoubleS Star System intwangled next to a black hole being and fightin’ it’s way back around the galaxy. There is but one certainty in life. That is Death and Life. The first one you find out when it is too late. The second speaks for itself as you wake up every morning and wander your life as a ghost in the dark. That’s why I am called darth ghost.
I am the ghost in the dark that darths you/
I am the light of destiny that haunts you/
The purpose is mine and you are my subject/
Poetry is the medium and language the means/
Revision is the goal and I will achieve/
Follow the IITPR statement and help me to crack, stab, bash and kill all the madness of this world. So until you follow me upon the path of Righteousness, you are lost. The path of darth ghost Poet Fulminous Avant-Garde, president of TBdoubleS Star System is awaiting you and it’ just a question of time before you will be lead by it. Follow the principals of the president of The Benoît Solar System darth ghost and I am gonna bring tears to your cheeks and peeks of sanity to your crazed out pumped out oppressed slave life. ‘cos I am the darth ghost of ghosts. The ghost of your haunting hunting down your deepest desire upon worldly matters and day to day routine crap and rat race. I am gonna reach for you and pick you out of the mass outta of your screen unto my battle station dear dear dear dearest reader of all, who is reading now. Untill then just continue reading my poetry-prose. It’s 2.45 Past Midday. Gotta get the pizza out of my oven and dessert I already have consumed.
Everyday a verse to call upon. Everyday a new opportunity and darth ghost your humble publisher will edit and conquer the Galaxies even the unknown ones in the making prior to conception.
