On the way (Collaboration)

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My contribution to a collaborative poem by Neha from the blog, ForgottenMeadows

You can find the entire collaboration here


On the way to my centre,

I skimmed the journey, retrospectively,

Witnessed all too late,

The many dimensions I had yet to see

Leaked my identity 

Through black on white,

The only language I speak.


Semantics, connotations of my poetry

Underscores and solidi, mark how I,

Identify, mark, group and divide

The makings of my golden mind


There’s the world, how I understand it

Then everything else, in no particular order

On the way, to unravelling me

Their misstep was assuming what they see

Comes from what I write, these are words

That bear shape in thought form, 

Incising and making themselves known

Naturally, through this platform, put simply

What you read is a memory

Stirred in a dish as I wish,

I’ve written, been writing, will write

Tremor-inducing pieces

On the way to making infinity



– Original-Dante ©2017


Art by:  ryky




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Permission, to stare at me,

En route to the process, conveying thoughts,

In a sequence, that attests to,

My mind’s chosen blueprint:


Mouth gaping, when I have you

In touch with, the reptilian

Etched at your core, take a breather, cool off

For all intents and purposes, This is what happens

When gasoline is exposed to my fire.

What I speak, I’ve already spoken

Ideas I imprint are the endgame

Of my reverberating echo,

Voiced from a time it was yet personal.

Confessions of the prototype, when I say

“It’s greener on the other side”

I speak of husks bound by envy, secluded

re-arranged, placed

Beyond the threshold of my existence.

They say I paint pictures with my words,

Bringing about consciousness

Of senses you had yet to realize exist;

If you think this is amazing,

Wait till you see what my creator can do.

– Original-Dante ©2017


Art by: ryky




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I exist between the spaces that bind your thoughts

A presence that remains relevant through triggers

Siphoned through your mental lapse, 

Failed to categorize me on the landscape

That is your mind.

Two islands, we are, independent in our dependence;

All I write of you, is a single line, just the way you like…

Verses illustrate the sequence my thoughts are attuned to

Affection, Feelings I hide; fear or caution, relative

I only hope the way I make you feel comes close

To how you make me feel.

– Original-Dante ©2017


Art by:  ryky




1,000 Followers on WordPress.

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Thank you, dear readers, and as a means of celebrating I recorded one of my most liked poems D_enial.

This is the first time I’ve used my voice on the blog, kept procrastinating but, I can’t think of a better time than now. So I made a new Youtube channel dedicated to my blog as well as everyone who has been with me from the beginning. I will be voicing poems whenever I can, any requests are welcome 🙂


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As I, take a break from daily happenings

Introspection, elseworld reflections, all open

No filter or lingering undertones, a gate

To the venta black abyss, in which

That prolonged gaze either makes me stronger

Or weaker, predispositions being the determinant.

Been caught off-guard, unforeseen sides 

My darkest shades, spilling over into the outlier

The vessel, merely a moving image, 

Nihilistic approach to my thoughts, 

Questioning the essence of existence

Sating the appetite of bringers to my fragility.

Mind Palace, glitches, becomes a prison \\//Habit\\//

Not content with, such an ending, I use a medium

That best defines, me, grip that fiend 

By the throat, turn this prison into a war zone;

Will to fight alone sets chasms ablaze,

Turns the darkest crevices of the mind, Into

Perhaps, the most habitable.

The mind is yours and yours alone

Darkness is persistent, and Light

Is all we need strive bring, to this universe

And the next;

Fight, dear reader, fight,

Never settle.

– Original-Dante ©2017


Art by:  ryky




it’s always something with these black women

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I love my daily dose of magic.


too small
too tall
too loud
too proud
too narrow
too wide
too polite
too uninviting
too stiff
too rhythmic
too aggressive
too passive
too mysterious
too open
too dark
too light
too humorous
too serious
too bitter
too sweet
too calm
too quiet
too oblivious
too aware
too smart
too ugly
too fine
too weak
too strong
too joyous
too black
too comfortable in your own body
taking up too much space

The short of it? LIES
The truth, though, your beauty is undeniable. That’s where the too’s come in. We’ve been denied the right to bebecause the others fear what cannot be boxed and labeled to their standard of comfort.

Black woman, you are perfect.
Black woman, you are the closest fleshly definition of perfection. And Black man, you are right there beside us.

It’s Always Something With These Black Women © 2017 KB Wright

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