Masquerade.

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You police the flow of energy,

Produced and projected by your vessel

Of the many channels

Linked to major functions,

You ignore betterment, Instead

Falling in love with the camera

The stage, a shame,

For if the actor in you

Was truly who you are;

The world would indeed be

A safer place.

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph by: BaxiaArt

Farce

Harbinger.

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In the open fields of happiness

Despair, misery, distress

… Weeds, on an otherwise perfect plain

Surface regardless, of no watering can

Reasons to be sad never cease

The dark side is self sufficient

I resist the persistent consensus

As I love in place of hate 

Cultivating my better self to stream

A steady supply to the side

I believe needs it most.

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph by:  Setril

Transitions.

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Change is indeed what we need

Designating different paths for that fork

In the road, we did, I stayed, you strayed

Reined in by your shackles, like a horse

With no blinkers, swayed, by terrestrial bait

For you are, a slave, to ungoverned desire

Eyes on the world, you want it,

Instead, the world has you,

Just another unaware bead,

On life’s wrist.

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph by:  phoenixfeatherxlight

 

 

Between This And That.

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Dangerous area to tread in

A bite from the light, a sip from the dark

An unquenchable appetite 

For forbidden cuisine, among other things

A palate subjugated by rights and wrongs

The devilish and the angelic

Which is which really, hard to tell apart

When you pick from the dinner table

With a blindfold.

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph by: xavierrey

Gray

 

Ardent.

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Relentless eye contact with that dot

From where it starts, it draws a line

My dreams: the dot, the line: my path;

Naturally, I follow, proceeding to control

Making short work of concrete blocks

A wrecking ball, unbarring the road

Footprints trickle of cinder, new age pathfinder

I light and lead the way

For those afraid to move

I fight demons yet still have time

To live, love, laugh

Earth, my house, for now

My ambition, far from fulfilled, but soon

And when all is said and done

I re-route my life force, to the next world

But till then

I embrace my present existence.

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph by: sandrawiklander

Avid

Vitality.

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Lo and behold, the after-effects

Of a hiatus from my throne

The art form, my chalice of ink

My crown, runs through my veins,

Rejuvenates, eradicates, that itching,

Scratching, searching for that next fix

Departing my zone, of sanity

Leaves me empty, Brain waves 

Resuscitated in my cockpit

Grey matter geared towards

The next objective.

 

The hard line, I divide, my lovers and haters,

Right in the middle, like Moses

I saunter between them

Yearning for the promised land

Everyday I fight, to quell my inner rage

My inner pain, concoctions courtesy

Of being a self critic

Existing in and outside myself,

Self-imposed anesthesia

Brewed from a whiff of these lines,

Of the many dimensions my character exhibits

This may be my favorite one. 

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph by: sandrawiklander

Heal

 

Dark Space.

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Too often do I make

Passive mentions about my outlier

Without giving it much attention,

That elseworld portal

Suction force equivalent

To that of, a hull breach, at light speed

I reserve for the over ambitious;

Need someone to drag down with you?

I’ll gesture that you move along

As that dark space, sieved from my collection

Of pocket dimensions, derailed

From my persistent train of thought

And realm of existence

Will be your new home. 

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph by: Oer-Wout

 

Delusion.

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She wanted me, while keeping another

Foolhardy attempts at fulfilling

That best of both worlds mentality

Indecisiveness left her torn over 

Unveiling my ethereal scissors

I made her choice, that much easier

As I, gracefully, proceeded to sever

Our poor excuse of a tether.

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph by: sandrawiklander

Denial

 

State Of Me.

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Allow me to stretch my writer arm

Note the spectral energies embodied by my form 

 When I write, words, I don’t envision

Instead, a code, from a time untold

Fulfilling my role

As intergalactic mediator

For the layman.

Their shouts, I turn to whispers

As I descend, towards the center

Of raging winds, for I am the eye

Of the storm, the calm, that dilates,

Pushes back, our world’s veritable stampede

Come hell or high water

I make a way where others believe

There is none.

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph: MarsiaMS