Intertwined with the movement,

Liken me to a lightning rod, stationed

On this side of the cosmos, receptive to divine energies,

Power that would, in a second, fry the light bulb

Filament; your idea, left in a crisp

Assuming you’ll ever be better than me.


And when they say we don’t belong here, 

I couldn’t agree more, Backstory richer than Mansa Musa

Melanated Kings and Queens,

Rich in body and mind, were not made to dwell here,

One by one, Extracting them from this world,

For this prison, is not our home.


Your approval to me, as useful as a bonfire on the sun

Just a small dust cloud I vacuum, repackage

And send back to you;

I’m polite that way.


Multi-faceted champion, diamond,

Swerving an exodus through landmines

The floodlights don’t blind us, 

Rays serve as a reminder of our many sides;

Sides you try to hide, from the brain-washed

But it’s only a matter of time…

Watch this space.


– Original-Dante ©2017













Incarnation Of The Freedom Seekers.


Peace in the facilitation of my seclusion

Anti-social to you, zen for me

Tending to the demons in my dungeon

Seemingly trapped to you

But remember when Joseph came out of his?

This one seed was planted deeper

More to shoot through, worth it

Their faces, when my persistent existence

Helps them pull their hair out.

I promise to be a thorn in your side

Capsize your will to fight

With little to no effort

Never my intention,

Passive buffer of my aura

Plus a by-product of your choice

To loathe me.

A waste of time

For I am that which you can’t explain

That which you wish to understand

The extra-terrestrial approach of the star-seed

400 year incarnation of the freedom seekers

Dark matter manipulator

Gatekeeper to the center;

Our collective consciousness,  

Champion, of the Black Star.

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph by: kapanaga


Our Africa.

Painting by cyzeal.


Proud of the supposed “color”

That they claim I exhibit,

A regular tattoo parlor

That they provide

Etching their perceptions

On my skin

And its particular pigment.

Notice unwary stares,

As you enter restaurants

Unsettled in their chairs,

Am I supposed to be afraid?

Or somewhat intimidated?

The very thought process

Is nothing more than out-dated.

Best to speak up

A little more exertion

In your racist remarks,

Not really geared

To be a mind reader,

Reckless in my approach

Hardly afraid of people’s thoughts.

Self-aware of my position,

Unhinged from social constructs,

The patronizing, the analyzing,

Made from many pieces and parts

That do not, and will not

Have a place in society’s

Endless supply

Of cultural hierarchies.

Fellow brothers and sisters

The scramble for Africa

And mention of Slavery

Should halt, unforgivable,

As they may be

Are not our niche,


Gracefully provided leash

On our identity

And who we truly are.

I will not be defined by the past

Just like it sounds

Its already passed,

That was the first chapter

I’m not moving backwards

My story is only destined

To move forward.

– Original-Dante

The artist can be found here: http://cyzeal.deviantart.com/