Six Pages In.


Don’t fool yourself into assuming

You can understand this being

In ten thousand words or less,

ill-advised to attempt

Navigating the mind map

You see on display, as it has

More twists and turns than licorice.


Overtake me on the journey

To the center of my consciousness

Before rendering judgement

Or baseless understandings

On an existence that is not your own.


Before you learn how to touch the knob

To my mind palace

I circumvent the reality

You are trying so hard

To catch up to,

As I turn the page

To map out a new dimension.


– Original-Dante ©2016


Art by:  Lemmy-X


What Am I Without?


Much obliged,

For calling me talented …

The ultra-skilled Star seed …


But where..?

Where does all that skill you see

Come from?


If not from the hurt,

The pain,

Which is self-sustaining;

Bottom line is

What skill do I have

Without this medium eclipsing

My burning heart?


– Original-Dante ©2016


Art by: A4size-ska


Daily Prompt: Eclipse


Intergalactic Musical.


The letters I illustrate far bypass

The containment

Of the terrestrial alphabet,

Look closely and you’ll envision

The pictures I draw.


My heart beat plays the part

Of the metronome as I

Harmonize the earth, the moon

And the stars, with the ethereal ink

A conductor using the pen, my baton,

To grace vacant and incomplete lines

With melodious tunes that bind.


Knowledge that seeps 

From intergalactic rifts

Aligns with

My brain waves as I

Decode the cipher that denotes

What is relatively intrinsic …

That we, as humanity, are capable of more

Than we give ourselves credit for.


– Original-Dante ©2016


Art by:  sewer-pancake


Daily Prompt: Melody


Questions #2


Questions #1




Because its different

Does it necessarily make it wrong?

Or is that kind of thinking

A reflection of the rational mind

Trying to justify

What the conscience believes

To be inherently wrong?


But is it really?

Or is questioning the aforementioned

A result of human nature’s shackles

Passively gearing everyone

Towards conformity?


– Original-Dante ©2016


Art by:  Ninjatic

And Then There’s Me.


Saying I’m at my best

Would be nothing short

Of premature,

As it would swiftly translate

To my journey nearing its end.


I leave that way of thinking

For the easily satisfied,

In this world, I’m not an expert

I’m not an under-dog,

I am what I need to be.


– Original-Dante ©2016


Photograph by:  Trichardsen

Start Living.


Must be fun taking shortcuts

To being who you wish

Society would see you as;

Being highly impressionable

Like a dead fish, swaying where

The strongest current takes you;

Susceptible to societal pitfalls

A slave to peoples’ perceptions.


First line = sarcasm

But I know the addiction

Of wanting to be number one

Feels worth it

When you’re at the “bottom”

But where is the bottom?

There is none

Unless you allow yourself

To believe

That there is one.


There is no-one better

Or worse than you

Unless you’re not sure of yourself

And feel you need to prove

Something to yourself

Or others, but why?

Why exert all that energy

Into proving

Instead of re-directing it all

To living?


– Original-Dante ©2016


Photograph by:  Northstar76


Daily Prompt: Cheat


Instrument For The Star Seed.

beauty_by_searchmyheart-d6ia0so (2).jpg


Have you ever loved something so much, or experienced something so perfect, that you’ve felt it was designed just for you?

I guess for me its writing, but that’s no secret, so I chose the source, my pen. Here’s a poem that expresses my love for the pen and ink.


Motions with the pen 

Illustrating at mach 10,

Designing portals to my world,

The pen was, and has always been 

This Star Seed’s instrument,

To make visible, the transition,

Of intergalactic thoughts

All the way to intelligible form.


With this, I have the ability

To break-down how it feels

To moonwalk on ether,

As ideas orbit around me

In abundance, like star-dust

I reap them with a sickle

Better termed my crescent moon.


This instrument, is indeed

A conduit for my thoughts

Flowing at warp speeds,

Straight out of deep space,

On occasion, moving faster 

Than I can make strokes

With the ink.


With this,

I’m a stranger to seeking approval,

With this, I’m always aware

Of my inherent perfection

At ease, as I open black holes

With the suction force necessary

To cleanse my thought palate 

Of the negativity projected

By the insecure branches

Of humanity.


– Original-Dante ©2016


Art by:  SearchMyHeart




The second my feet tasted earth

I knew I was different,

As peoples’ eyes mirrored

My light bulb high in the sky

Difficult to miss, as it is

That which you call the sun.


I am not a puzzle

That many “claim” to be

No, For I am that

Which stores the puzzle.


Been clear since day one

That I’m not here

To kiss up to those in power,

But to make them aware

They are specks to who I serve,

I’m not here to endorse war

But to enlighten the walking dead

On humanity’s wrongs,

Those who move, but don’t live

Those who have eyes, but don’t see.


I’m not here to impress

But to tell the truth,

And with that out of the way,

Etch it in stone

That I won’t let petty squabbles

Be what jeopardizes a movement

That is, in the simplest form,

Beyond your understanding.


– Original-Dante ©2016


Photograph by:  MarcoHeisler




The pain she left

Like a care package

Felt like, one of those

Internal bleeding

Deep laceration types;

Sucking at my life force,

An echo, reverberating

Bouncing on the insides

Past rib cage bars,

Acting as a reminder

Of the type of pain

You’ll experience

If you make a habit

Of embracing

Stupid decisions.


– Original-Dante ©2016


Photograph by: ucilito

Ground Zero Privileges.


Despite having an unstable approach

To the idea and thought formation;

Despite the ability

To be a driver, passenger

And orbiter to my own vessel;

Despite being a champion

For the Black Star and its cosmos

…. I’m still firmly grounded

By all that surrounds me,

Family, friends

And a higher existence

That allows me to tally the count

Of my overall mileage.


Without them, I have nothing

To pull me back from being too big

For myself; Without them,

I’m just another

Wax wing owner,

Flying too close

To the sun.


– Original-Dante ©2016


Photograph by: shiek0r


%d bloggers like this: