Hey, you're not here and I'm floating atop the wishing well seeking conviction from anyone who's ever looked me in my eyes and wondered...who are you? It was you all the time, since conception, that gave me an identity to just be. I did not need approval or recognition to be...to exist. Now, you have gone and I'm looking into these waters, and nothing looks back at me. I am void and without shape hovering the waters in total darkness. I feel I have made my escape. Only, I don't know where I've gone or where you've gone. I don't know what or who I am or what or who you were. Like a pearl snatched from the lips of oysters, lightning firing away from the clouds, and dug up diamonds from under caves, I am free.

I'm feeling freaking frustrated, 

foes, friends, and family finding faults, 

flipping fervor for fear, 

fickle freedom, 

while flattering financial feats fondle fiction, 

foolish friction fraternize fair fantasies far from fantastic, 

fire flamed filled fences, 

forced father fatalities, 

fetal fraternity facilities feeding feminist fish foods, 

fingers forgetting fundamental functions, 

fuel fees, frantic freeway flux, and fleeing focus fade frontal foresight, 

false flight falling fifty-five feet fornenst a feeble fringe fathoming future fulfillment, 

fist of fury fighting ferocious phenomena fending folding figures funneling flaky facts, 

futile fashion, fruitless freelance, 

frivolous frequencies flooding favorable fellowship, 

fiending freakish foreign forsaken flavors framed in familiar fabric, 

flying phobia, failing phobia, 

forward footsteps filming the finale following frustration.

what if love passes by

what if my demons never die

what if love passes by

what if my demons run and hide

stay out of the blue

I'm trying to stay out of the blue

the blue is my resting place

love has called my name

Dedicated to Allen

July 4, 2015

©Maybank Media 7

All Rights Reserved

www.maybankmedia7.com/books/lament-poetry-book/

My father knew no father

as his father was fatherless too

...but not my son

I saw the world

no I saw my world

I proceeded to leave both

...my own way

Cut my heart in two

I left one part whole for you

the other bleeds out

...for me.

I wear my heart

as a signet clutched tight

around my index

on my right hand.

Nothing that flows through it

is filtered or restricted.

Coiled onto instruments,

manifesting the secret things,

and racing back and forth between

left and right hemispheres.

Nothing that flows through it

is filtered or restricted

Purposed, only to fill the

empty and void

with unlimited darkness.

Contrary it spreads light,

and if read right, the spoken recite

becomes my birthright

to creation.

Copyright 2016. Gabriel Maybank

All Rights Reserved.

LUCK is a four letter curse word

spoken by those wishing for better things to come,

like a billion dollar lottery ticket that never came.

Who won by the way?

A man lucked up with a few million down the street from my house.

Left his kids and wife and overdosed on drugs a few days later.

At least his few dollars went into the pre-k program.

So, LUCKILY, he made a little contribution before passing.

I don't believe in LUCK, once whispered in my ear

by an ultra green leprechaun on Saint Patty's Day.

He lost all consciousness in an alley-way dice game to a beginner the day before.

Lost his green shirt too!

Beginners LUCK!

My LUCK ran off with hope and the spinning wheel of fortune

quite possibly the day I arrived here because we never met.

Like the LUCKY child born without a father to beat him into submission

and follow all the ways of the yellow brick road.

Never finding a rainbow or a pot of gold, but LUCKY

to find himself amiss this colorful paradise.

Settled in at the start, everything up to now

preparation, perspiration, concentration, meditation

lingers

the practice, the hurt and pain

you are suppose to be ready to embrace

given it should come down to it

oh, the psyche of those who spent countless hours

in training for one certain desirable outcome

but four equals one today

one mind, one body, one heartbeat, one desire

blistered fingers plastered against chalk

feeling the rubble of the track

a track that you’ve gotten lost in

bending its corners time and time again

its just another race they say

but “they” are not dressed for this occasion

its all on you

the muscles flex and remember their positions

your body sways with the wind as it remits

charismatic breaths

into the core of what was once an empty shell

you exhale its confident, free-flying spirit

Sparks exit from the sidelines

the signal of now or never

the eruption of ‘I AM’, like a cosmic bang

chasing the only thing that ever stood in the way

...Me

©2016 Gabriel Maybank. All rights reserved.

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Thanks for reading!!!