poems by Maestro Gamin

i was able to make a mistake today and still walk back the person i was with all my blessings still accounted for in my back pocket. i was able to peel away an old angry thought that lied to me and turned on a power switch-off from a manual heart surplus fuse. my mechanics refused to buckle under some malware bug and over rid the auto pilot protocol. I breathed, and watched my skin come back thru an old bruise. my lips put their teeth away, and goodness found its home into my words again. beauty patted me on the back, asked where I been. I shrugged the heat off my shoulders, and flexed all my muscles at once 

thru the friend I embraced, like promising to not let go even if I forget what it feels like when they aint there. I reflected until I made myself company, and reminded myself they sometimes won’t be. I nodded and said, im sorry that scared makes my pain loud and sad aint the words I wanna say sometimes. I reached for a cellphone and saw missed calls from people who left this place. they just called to leave me messages they were okay. just in case all my i love yous didnt get through, and last goodbyes got tangled up in old time like a grandfather clock. they say we aint left we just in a different spot 

now with no coverage but all still on the same plan, no plane can ever erase who you are so dont worry about disappearing for awhile. youre holding us both in your brain and body. you breathe for all of us now, tomorrow you’ll live a thousand lives at the same time and we feel every hug, tear, and kiss like a cosmic text message. we feel alright here, you could never know. you still have work to do and we’ll watch laughing at how you outsmart em everytime woopin over hand daps and big noise like “see it! i toldjuu tho, i toldjuu he would. thats dave! thats our david henley. little brother grandson who cut scars into fast 

feet running thru the screen door. theyre still trying to catch him, alright!.”

our time isnt gone, dont avoid your face in the mirror just cause its a little wet. look at us. we aint left.

remember.

you have good friends in case you forget. 

2morrow i’ll be on the road. i’ll be with myself for 5 hours singing songs like i’m trying to change my dna. staring at thirsty brush and brown hills. air conditioned cockpit juggling wifi satellites passing thru the middle of old town promises. bakersfield, merced, santa nella, are all names with stories and people’s lives and i’ll blow by it all like a burrito wrapper in the wind, over whats left of flattened and matted creatures in the sun, doing 85,  eyes darting and bouncing off side and rear views, gauging. beating the speed gun to the punch so I can tap break and relaunch into another lane coasting without pause. straight thru no stops except for gas next to the honey stand halfway in and the air.

will be heavy with hot dust. people will be courteous and lost walking in and out of poisonous bathrooms like madmen returning to play a game of death. clutching a bag of chips and soda for the playlist or the voices on the radio. i like these drives. they recalibrate somehow. fix you in. prepare you for phone calls, for goodbyes, for absense, for reintroductions to loved ones youve known all your life, for sad news, and being someplace like youve never mattered more in your life. you rise, you show up, and you know this time was easier for someone because you did. and then you drive back to a place that is more home than home, but less painful to be anything you’d miss. 

i miss home. maybe i keep going back cause i wonder what misses me. 

Maestro Gamin, began developing his poetry sometime in 2009/2010 after attending Vibrations writer’s group. He soon began attending open mics across the southern los angeles and downtown areas, such as Lost Souls Cafe,The Monday Speakeasy, World Stage, DPL, Natural High (flight school), Our Mic, and Freedom of Speech Thursdays.