The Being Black Project.

Dunno how I forgot to post this piece, but I decided to considering it was laying idle in my drafts section. Besides, its been a while since I posted anything šŸ™‚ . I’ll be returning soon though, count on it…In the meantime…enjoy.



What does it mean

To carry my particular pigment?

Unaccomplished? Ā inferiority?

Rip your outdated memo and listen closely,

Because it means power, my friend

What else confirms our superiority

Other than the relentless effort

By supremacists to hide such knowledge.


My role is not to convince you

That what I say is true,

But hear this,

What you see on me as melanin,

You’d best reaffirm

As unintelligibleĀ dark matter

Coursing through my veins

At unsettling speeds

Settling well under my skin.


It would be convenient wouldn’t it,

To have a “Black history” month?

How kind of you,

To reduce our vast history

To a month,

As if it all fits …

Why is there no “white history” month?

If not to raise peoples’ consciousness

To the idea that we’re different.


Well then, if being different means

I don’t end up as manipulative

Or power hungry as you

Then I, in kind

Whole-heartedly accept.


ā€“ Original-DanteĀ Ā©2016


Art by:Ā JoelKelly

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

IĀ circumvent the reality

You are trying so hard

To catch up to,

As I turn the page

To map out a new dimension.


ā€“ Original-DanteĀ Ā©2016


Art by:Ā  Lemmy-X


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,Ā my baton,

To grace vacant and incomplete lines

With melodious tunes that bind.


Knowledge that seepsĀ 

From intergalactic rifts

Aligns with

My brain wavesĀ 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.


ā€“ Original-DanteĀ Ā©2016


Art by:Ā  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?


ā€“ Original-DanteĀ Ā©2016


Art by:Ā  Ninjatic

New Generation Gold.


Last year I remember seeing a poem in a newspaper article about young poets (like myself) failing to adopt what poetry stands for and how we are slowly destroying the art. I didn’t take note of the poet’s name, because I thought nothing of it at the time; only the message he was giving.

In context, all he was saying was that this (poetry) is something we’re not good at, since we are so fixated on things like fashion and social media e.t.c.

In essence, he wants us to adopt the style he deems appropriate or we don’t write poetry at all. Ā The editor seemed very fascinated by all of it, saying that since the poet is highly renowned his opinion must hold some merit. Felt like a suck up session to me, I don’t know why I remembered the whole thing today but, I decided to respond to the poem regardless…




Competing for a supposed throne

Through the art form

Has never really been

My kind of scene.


But suppose we WERE to compete

Your chance to belittle me,

Showing the divide between us

The perfect opportunity to show

How you’re up there

And I’m down here,

You’d love that wouldn’t you?


Well, spoiler alert

Because if we compete

What you see as an ordinary,

Lush and Green mind

Will expose your eyes

To ethereal designs,

Taking your mind through

The longest train of thought,

Leaving you out of breath as I

Write tartan track laps around you.


We would start at the same line

And I would be back

Before you decide to begin;

Don’t make me commit a crime

By leaving your mind with a chalk outline

Analogy for the brain dead state

I’ll leave you with

After reality sets in.Ā 


Tempting as that would be

I realize that it takes a great person

To discover the power hidden within,

But it takes a rare

And special kind of person

To respect everyone regardless

Of that discovery.


ā€“ Original-DanteĀ Ā©2016


Photograph by:Ā  Aquilapse


There is no right or wrong way to write matters of the heart, the old man should escape from his cocoon.

Instrument For The Star Seed.

beauty_by_searchmyheart-d6ia0so (2).jpg


Have you ever loved something so much, or experienced something so perfect, that youā€™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 penĀ 

Illustrating at mach 10,

Designing portals to my world,

The pen was, and has always beenĀ 

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 fasterĀ 

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 palateĀ 

Of the negativity projected

By the insecure branches

Of humanity.


ā€“ Original-DanteĀ Ā©2016


Art by:Ā  SearchMyHeart


Ethereal Ink.


Watch me when I write,

Glimmer in my eyes,

Purposeful attempts to excavate

The golden thread of knowledge

Embedded within the carvings

Of my mind’s given design;

I create knots and loops

With the cursive ink

Knitting pages together

With a pattern

Of my choosing.


ā€“ Original-DanteĀ Ā©2016


Photograph by:Ā  MikkoLagerstedt


Daily Prompt: Eyes

Don’t Be Shy, Let Us Connect.

Are you on Facebook or Twitter,? If so, you can find more updates for my blog in the following links:




On Twitter, you can follow meĀ @OriginalDanteĀ Ā I usually write poetry there before officially posting it on my blog.








On Facebook you can like the pageĀ Original-DanteĀ , all posts on my blog end up there as well.

I surely hope we can get in touch on all social platforms, enjoy your day! šŸ™‚


ā€“ Original-Dante


Awareness For My Pocket Dimension.


Letting you pass my force field

Comes with its own baggage,

Learn to decipher between

My real and fake grins

Before you say you know me;

As knowing me and staying after

Are two battles

I wouldn’t blame you for forfeiting.


You would not tolerate the thought

Of feeling sorry for me ,

If you were aware

That at this very moment,

In a pocket dimension,

There’s a tug of war

On whats best for me;

As I let the thought

Of fighting for you

Drift in and out the threshold

Of existence.


ā€“ Original-DanteĀ Ā©2016


Art by:Ā Lemmy-X


Daily Prompt: Complicated


The Ether Approach.


Can I help it if we’re different?

If you’ve convinced yourself I’m better?

Jealousy is a byproduct

You’ve packaged quite well

With your self-imposed doubt.


The power to walk over the ether

With ease, is not of my own making,

Outlining the possible origins of such

Is not a construct best defined

To an earthly constituent

Unaware of being a cog

In a much bigger game.


Apologies if I don’t have time

To appease to your satisfaction;

Dumbing myself down

To make you feel relevant.


No, that’s not my job

I leave that chore to those

Who think much of you,

Those you claim exist

At the very least.


My fight lies elsewhere

As the 5th dimension of thought

That I embrace dictates

I bear the torch

For a cause that dwarfs

Your life’s ambition …

To reach me.


ā€“ Original-DanteĀ Ā©2016


Photograph by:Ā  NovaMcKnighten





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