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Michael Luciano Feb 2023
I just flew the blue bird, chained like a bandit out of hell.
feelin' awfully down but there ain't a soul to tell.
My lady love she left this place, went belly up and blue.
she's a goner with the castaways, what a useless way to loose.
She was a torcherous deceiver born from burning waste.
like a feather in the gutter, she floated down my way.
I knew it was all bad, could smell the trouble on her kiss.
But there I was, lookin' for more, as that serpent gave a hiss.
Couldn't no wild horse or the hounds of hell drag me.
From ridin' those ol' rails of love, her and I were meant to be.
We set out searching for our paradise on them icy seas.
But got lost among the poppy fields, higher than redwood trees.
We drifted on, and danced along, a riddler she became.
that crazy night under diamond light, in the green gorge, our love was made.
I doubled down, and paid the price, but nothing with us changed
This I'm sure you know, my friend, no one wins this game.
I knew this to be true, and did slip and slide away.
Gone along while the song birds sang, and dawn became the day.
But she didn't see that mornings glory falling with the dew.
She had already came and went, belly up and blue.
Life, Love, Death, and Inprisonment
Michael Luciano Feb 2021
Risking life and limb , like there ain't no tomorrow
Doing reprehensible acts on condemnable terms
Was catagoricaly enjoyable
In some folks opinion,but
Baby it's ok I guess
If you would ask me
Its ok if you would ask me

On a cold calm morning in the great white north
All adulterated and cooking up a scheme.
We sat dissecting our minds
Spun and interlaced
We were entwined with more than we could dream. But
Baby It's ok I guess
Its ok if you would ask me

Full of flying colors we were blown to kingdom come.
Conceived from a dream Born
Burning, higher, wider,and brighter than the sun
Struggling just to survive the mess ,but
Baby it's ok I guess
If you would ask me who was there.

With an ear piercing bang
we watched as the fully fueled fire, flared, scorching everything that was, every single  hide and hair.
we found ourselves standing in the embers all alone
everything around us had gone on along for home.
Michael Luciano Dec 2020
This is the Canyon lands Can you feel it man?
Dawn's early promise to lend you her hand.
Awake from the cave from the rubble you climb.
Down the lonely path to the river of time.

This is the Canyon lands far from the thought Plateau.
Deep down in that crevasse where the warming fires glow.
Where the canyon walls climb to the cheeks of the sky.
The sun she peaks in from time to time.

This is the canyon land Where the River she winds.
Cut down deep by her flowing design.
Through the valley she runs away from the caves.
On a long from our shelter to a place that we crave.

This is the Canyon Land but all we want is more.
To travel the river of time set sail from our Shores.
Slide along the river to where the canyon meets the sea.
Float on from that crevasse to Eternity.

This is the canyon land from where we took the plunge.
In to her cooling hands flowing toward the sun.
To divide and conquer explore the high seas.
Gain, grab, and get more than we can dream.

This Is The Place To Where the River Flows and the canyon meets the sea.
Plastered form our being until eternity.
Something Beyond this miserable cage that we live in.
and the sky opens up to give all she has to give
Where the sky opens up to give all she has to give.
Michael Luciano Dec 2020
Met her in a bar it was early spring time. Her name was gypsy, gypsy sunshine. She had hair that flowed from her head to the tips, like electric fire. I tried but could not get enough of it. Legs like winter nights, long and white, they could wrap around me in the cold and pull me into her light. Eyes that shown like the Shine from the Sun in the sky, brown like the leaves on the trees that died in Fall time. She had a way with her words that flowed from her Ruby lips, across her white teeth into the air like Steam from a ship. I tried, tried so hard but could not get enough of it. That night in early, early spring time. Oh that love of mine gypsy, gypsy sunshine. We would talk all night untill the sun bit it's lip, but I couldn't bite mine that summer when we kissed.
Michael Luciano Dec 2020
I awoke from this dream in the rubble of my mind. Lost alone in there among the falling Sands of Time. Stricken by the knots that are tied with in my sheets. No more sickness mama please no more grief. All my screws are loose there's too much confusion. Let me fall onto myself into that dreamy illusion. I took the needle from my arm but it's still planted in my head. I've got that feeling I can't take and it's filling me with Dread. I want to slide on down where the muddy water creeps. Where the ****** river flows who's filled with sweet relief. I want to climb into my mind find Oblivion far away from the feelings of the body I live in. Take me to that place that we all want to go. Suspected fugitive lost out on that Lonesome Road. Your constant conversations have me twiddling my thumbs. She was a torturous deceiver with her hand upon my gun. The wind swelled with a gust and I woke from this dream lost all along the lonely streets looking like a fein. I stepped into a paradise searching for my mind. A gonner with a periscope see me from behind. I'm gaining on my final breath aiming for the moon. Sewing up my only close with a needle and a spoon. Drowning in the desperation brewing in my grief. Searching like a street cop lost along his beat. Awaken to the circus that same old ******* show. A sing-along of corpses hitchhiking down the road. The Badlands and sands of time it's the gritty kind of life. Batten down the hatches so to not let in the light. When dependency is slavery there is no kind of thrill. ****** ******* just a feeling kinda ill.
I was an IV ****** addict for a number of years, living in cars, tents, squats and the like. I was clean for a number of years untill this summer I caught the bug again, thankfully I've crawled back out of that cave once again. I suppose this Is an attempt to not forget. Written in prison in Pennsylvania 2016.
Michael Luciano Dec 2020
The tables have turned,
The ties that bind,
Were twisted and torn to shreds.
Up came the heat
Through the cracks in the streets
Red from the bankers we've bled.
Steeped in tradition our teeth are all missing. We drink from  Belly of the beast.
She is the peace of the moon
And the howl of the wolves
All at once...
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