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