"Cell of Confinement"
As we look at each other, I can’t help but question, what makes you really believe you are a better person than I? I’ve prayed many nights for the answer as to this question and both myself and my shadow have yet to come up with an intelligent answer.
Is it because you believe that they way you lived your life sets you aside from someone like me, who is implicated in some very serious crimes? Someone who has traveled the broken road that through back yards that are enclosed with razor wire and looming gun towers?
Yet, I believe this comes from growing up and never being able to go after and grasp what you really wanted in life. You were always the unpopular kid in school who was always the victim of some lurking bully in the hallways. That person who never made the football team and looked funny doing jumping jacks. That person who never quite was able to talk to the girl who was the fantasy of your boyish daydreams. That person who had it a little better than most kids were ever gonna get, but you didn’t want to look the part. And as I think about all this – maybe you’re right for feeling the way you do – but don’t categorize me.
I was the kid who walked into the bathroom that day you were getting roughed up by that bully and got so made that someone was picking on someone who didn’t have the means or resolve to right back and ended up getting a black eye in your defense. Afterwards, I told you not to worry cause one black eye was always better than the two the bully now had as Mr. Bully and I were suspended for ten days.
I was that one guy on the football team, unlike the other players that ran over you and laughed because you weren’t as fast and hard hitting as us, that would always help you up, would tell you to always look at your opponent, would get just as hyped when you did something well as if my best friend did it, unlike the team.
I was that one guy who had to come out of the game because of leg cramps, and when you went in – the whole team let out a moan cause they knew you were gonna fail, and maybe you did too. But I held my breath and hoped that for a brief second you would succeed, because I know that glory lives in flashes.
I was that same guy that sat next to you at the dance feeling just how you did because the same girl was just as elusive to me as she was to you, but at least I tried. But as you stand here looking at me, you don’t remember those little specks of kindness from people you have come to generalize and hate. And you are so caught up with your attitude of ‘Look at me now and look at people like you’.
And even as we look at each other face to face, you know that I know that the only thing that’s a jerk about me is when I let you know how petty you really are and that while you may be in a sense over me now, don’t think you were ever really in charge of yourself.
You call yourself a better person because you’re not in jail, but a correctional officer, a keeper of the corrupt, yet when’s the last time you felt a sense of pride for doing something that would get no credit?
I came home from prison looking more imposing than ever, and held doors for old ladies, giving them a smile that before was only reserved for the likes of my
Grandmas. I’ve helped people on the road as others whizzed by, yelling obscenities instead of stopping to get out and help. The children at the bus stop in my neighborhood had an ever-watchful eye upon them in case there was the danger of a child predator. And if something happened, I would be running like the Flash – undoubtedly with you looking at me with so much hatred, so much disgust, that malice oozes from your pores like the sweat pours out after an intense workout in 97% heat.
And there you are, hoping that you’re able to prove something against someone like me. This would be your chance to be somebody, to be able to physically conquer someone like me in all your years of cowardice. And if that did happen, you’d still never do that alone, so what does that say?
And as you look at me, you think that physically I’m a danger – but I beg to differ. As Doc Holiday would say as he puts down his Royal Flush beating your Four of a Kind, his other hand tapping the butt of his six shooter, “Physically we’re the same, but mentally… I am dangerous.
When I close my eyes and meditate, I take counsel with King Arthur as one of his Knights of the Round Table of Life. At night I walk with the likes of Maymeto Mushashi and he advises me on how to completely crush the enemy while he gently paints a beautiful single snow flake falling onto an ice covered pond. I sit and watch chess games between Sun Tzu and Napoleon, taking notes as mountains are moved and rivers consumed. I take lessons from Machivelli on penmanship as he tells me to be wary of those with smiles and velvet gloves hiding the bloodstains on their dirty hands. I listen to debates between Christ and Mohammed as they go round and round about whose God is the true God, and I smile as Buddha sits down to place his bid on the subject at hand. I grapple with demons and look up to angels. I study to understand as Bach, Beethoven and Mozart’s fingers furiously fly across melodies of time and space to accomplish that which the Highlander only says “there can only be one.”
And in my chambers of thought, my love is so powerful it transcends that which Shakespeare was trying to unveil with Romeo and Juliet. It is deeper than the rabbit hole that Alice fell into. It’s the thing nations were built upon, like Hebrew slaves placing 300 ton blocks perfectly to build a temple.
My foundation of love, my flint stuck just the right way, and sparks fly – landing on twigs that begin to burn, and then the flame is discovered. Or like Zeus slinging lightning bolts from his plush covered armrest, only to be caught in my eyes.
As we stand here looking face to face, you know that I know you’re no better than me, and that the only thing that makes you different as we stand on the same floor is you’re on the other side of the door. You’re at liberty to go home, where this conversation is the furthest thing from your mind, unlike me who will stay up all night into the early morning hours, going over every word in detail, much like a mafia hit man in a Catholic confessional booth…
“Forgive me Father for I have sinned.”
"Cell of Confinement"
by
Michael Victor Lugo
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
May 3, 2007 - In Mike's Words
"Cell of Confinement"
The Beast looks down upon me with cold calculating eyes and hot breath that blows across my face like a summer breeze blowing in the bowels of a forbidden pit in the lowest levels of hell. The Beast is Patience and its’ jaws are ready to devour and even now as I look into this great Beast’s mouth, I can see the flesh of many of whom have been consumed by his wrath, greed, corruption and injustice.
I myself know the power that lies within the jaws of this machine, for once I escaped his embrace yet I have vivid memories of comrades who still till this day swim in the belly of this monster, the Beast, drowning and without any hope of ever breaking through again. The Beast looks at me and I can feel the anger in his breath because I have gotten away once, and his desire to know me again is that of a lover’s broken heart that has a suicide/murder mentality. If I can’t have you, then no one will. And yet I resist.
He stalks me as I try to turn away from him to flee, but his omnipresence is imposing and much like that of God, he knows my every move, but not my thoughts unless I present them. There is no escape from this animal and so the warrior who guides my thoughts advises me that the only way to gain a possible victory is to face the devouring Beast with dignity and courage, regardless of the screams of pain that emit from deep within its’ guts.
Voices I’ve heard before, some joyous that I may return to that lake of anguish and fire, but there are also the voices of those who are like minded warriors of a likewise heart. I hear their prayers of hope for me and those who face the beast, that we may obtain safe passage. Almost like a bird singing in the eye of a hurricane. Beauty is everywhere, even within the Beast Even in the battle between myself and the Beast, there is a certain harmony between us – the dance of life and death that Arch Angels and Hierarchy of Demons pay admission to see. It is like a classical musical that some how has more justice and injustice, right and wrong, light and darkness than they could amass together in a great collaboration – and so we watch.
As a Demon leans over to an Arch Angel and asks, “So – who do you think wins?” to which he replies, “Through time, all things will be revealed.” Another Demon mockingly says, “Yet there is no such thing as time, so what is truly revealed?”
And so we wait, watching them watching us, anticipating their reactions to my actions and watching their eyes watch me and my eyes only trying to not lose my footing as the Beast is ever trying to grasp hold of me as we battle for the sweetness of life like condemned Gladiators in the coliseum tossed in a pit with a sword and told to survive.
Yet they forgot to tell you about the others who used to be warriors and try to cut you down all the while never taking your eyes off the Beast. He lunges toward me, I step to the side and hear the cheers of those watching as the battle becomes more and more intense. We all feel the point in what we call time that is approaching the Final Judgment.
The crowd cheers and yells, but I cannot tell who they are cheering for. For our liberation, breaking free of the Beast and his bondage – or our downfall and destruction. Right now, it is hard to tell – but my third eye sees things for what they are, not how they appear to be. I see you just like you see me, but what does that really accomplish?
I raise my sword and charge, for the only way to conquer the Beast is to face it head on and look into its’ eyes as you either slay it or it swallows you whole.
And this I struggle.
"Cell of Confinement"
by
Michael Victor Lugo
The Beast looks down upon me with cold calculating eyes and hot breath that blows across my face like a summer breeze blowing in the bowels of a forbidden pit in the lowest levels of hell. The Beast is Patience and its’ jaws are ready to devour and even now as I look into this great Beast’s mouth, I can see the flesh of many of whom have been consumed by his wrath, greed, corruption and injustice.
I myself know the power that lies within the jaws of this machine, for once I escaped his embrace yet I have vivid memories of comrades who still till this day swim in the belly of this monster, the Beast, drowning and without any hope of ever breaking through again. The Beast looks at me and I can feel the anger in his breath because I have gotten away once, and his desire to know me again is that of a lover’s broken heart that has a suicide/murder mentality. If I can’t have you, then no one will. And yet I resist.
He stalks me as I try to turn away from him to flee, but his omnipresence is imposing and much like that of God, he knows my every move, but not my thoughts unless I present them. There is no escape from this animal and so the warrior who guides my thoughts advises me that the only way to gain a possible victory is to face the devouring Beast with dignity and courage, regardless of the screams of pain that emit from deep within its’ guts.
Voices I’ve heard before, some joyous that I may return to that lake of anguish and fire, but there are also the voices of those who are like minded warriors of a likewise heart. I hear their prayers of hope for me and those who face the beast, that we may obtain safe passage. Almost like a bird singing in the eye of a hurricane. Beauty is everywhere, even within the Beast Even in the battle between myself and the Beast, there is a certain harmony between us – the dance of life and death that Arch Angels and Hierarchy of Demons pay admission to see. It is like a classical musical that some how has more justice and injustice, right and wrong, light and darkness than they could amass together in a great collaboration – and so we watch.
As a Demon leans over to an Arch Angel and asks, “So – who do you think wins?” to which he replies, “Through time, all things will be revealed.” Another Demon mockingly says, “Yet there is no such thing as time, so what is truly revealed?”
And so we wait, watching them watching us, anticipating their reactions to my actions and watching their eyes watch me and my eyes only trying to not lose my footing as the Beast is ever trying to grasp hold of me as we battle for the sweetness of life like condemned Gladiators in the coliseum tossed in a pit with a sword and told to survive.
Yet they forgot to tell you about the others who used to be warriors and try to cut you down all the while never taking your eyes off the Beast. He lunges toward me, I step to the side and hear the cheers of those watching as the battle becomes more and more intense. We all feel the point in what we call time that is approaching the Final Judgment.
The crowd cheers and yells, but I cannot tell who they are cheering for. For our liberation, breaking free of the Beast and his bondage – or our downfall and destruction. Right now, it is hard to tell – but my third eye sees things for what they are, not how they appear to be. I see you just like you see me, but what does that really accomplish?
I raise my sword and charge, for the only way to conquer the Beast is to face it head on and look into its’ eyes as you either slay it or it swallows you whole.
And this I struggle.
"Cell of Confinement"
by
Michael Victor Lugo
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
In Mike's Words
“ Cell of Confinement”
When Victory is close at hand we know that defeat stalks close by with malice in it’s heart and deceit on it’s lips. That is why the shadow of myself that also looks down upon the paper in which I write warns me to be ever ready, to keep awareness on high alert and to grasp this soon to be Victory like it is the very essence of life in which powers us all. I breathe it in like a sweet aroma yet my soul still must continue to wait to be filled. And thus I continue with my active mind that jumps from possibility to possibility in the early morning hours when closing ones eyes is like turning on the T.V. with no clue as to what is on and to have the channel change every couple minutes to something new. Entertaining to say the least. Yet I am restless. And poetry flows through my mind like hidden codes to the secrets of the DNA in which the universe was built only to be lost in trying to read the message.
I see images of Jesus as he offers a hand of barb wire to help pull me out of the pit that the wicked have lain for me, and see my children playing in a play ground of dreams as my father sits in a park bench and protectively watches over them unbeknownst to all except those who see with all three. Visions of my mother dancing away the night as ballroom dancers swirl around like water lily’s floating down a gentle river creek as my little brother marches over the hill tops like Caeser with legions and legions of like minded instruments playing tunes to make earthquakes quake in their boots yet make baby blue birds softly sing along and also make warriors chant a war cry. And thus I raise my sword. And when she speaks it is like the sound that God made when he rested on the 7th day, like a sound that only Angels hear and that demons envy, a sound that makes babies in the womb smile. And all the while she is here with me, here in my struggles, here in my ironic sense of humor and visions of everything yet looking at nothing at all. Constantly becoming and nothing that is inflicted will prevent the sword from Victory because we are one and have joined on a higher level than those who wish to separate will ever understand. Our past is longer than your eye sight or thoughts deeper than the pit in which Leviathan was bound to, and vaster than the every expanding Galaxy. And you try to prevent? Stop what? You give us purposed and motivation, a Warrior is only as great as their enemy is. And thus you will be conquered.
Freedom escapes my lips as sleep starts to wrap around me like a warm embrace with soothing sceens of yester year before the skies were darkened. Yet when I awake I know my dreams and visions for the time being will still be stuck here in this "Cell of Confinement."
By
Michael Victor Lugo
When Victory is close at hand we know that defeat stalks close by with malice in it’s heart and deceit on it’s lips. That is why the shadow of myself that also looks down upon the paper in which I write warns me to be ever ready, to keep awareness on high alert and to grasp this soon to be Victory like it is the very essence of life in which powers us all. I breathe it in like a sweet aroma yet my soul still must continue to wait to be filled. And thus I continue with my active mind that jumps from possibility to possibility in the early morning hours when closing ones eyes is like turning on the T.V. with no clue as to what is on and to have the channel change every couple minutes to something new. Entertaining to say the least. Yet I am restless. And poetry flows through my mind like hidden codes to the secrets of the DNA in which the universe was built only to be lost in trying to read the message.
I see images of Jesus as he offers a hand of barb wire to help pull me out of the pit that the wicked have lain for me, and see my children playing in a play ground of dreams as my father sits in a park bench and protectively watches over them unbeknownst to all except those who see with all three. Visions of my mother dancing away the night as ballroom dancers swirl around like water lily’s floating down a gentle river creek as my little brother marches over the hill tops like Caeser with legions and legions of like minded instruments playing tunes to make earthquakes quake in their boots yet make baby blue birds softly sing along and also make warriors chant a war cry. And thus I raise my sword. And when she speaks it is like the sound that God made when he rested on the 7th day, like a sound that only Angels hear and that demons envy, a sound that makes babies in the womb smile. And all the while she is here with me, here in my struggles, here in my ironic sense of humor and visions of everything yet looking at nothing at all. Constantly becoming and nothing that is inflicted will prevent the sword from Victory because we are one and have joined on a higher level than those who wish to separate will ever understand. Our past is longer than your eye sight or thoughts deeper than the pit in which Leviathan was bound to, and vaster than the every expanding Galaxy. And you try to prevent? Stop what? You give us purposed and motivation, a Warrior is only as great as their enemy is. And thus you will be conquered.
Freedom escapes my lips as sleep starts to wrap around me like a warm embrace with soothing sceens of yester year before the skies were darkened. Yet when I awake I know my dreams and visions for the time being will still be stuck here in this "Cell of Confinement."
By
Michael Victor Lugo
Internal Incident...
Angela’s comments:
At the time of this incident Michael had been back there for 8 months. Michael has had to stay in lock down all the while of his son being born, his wife undergoing two heart surgeries, and knowing that his oldest (just turned 3) is holding on as hard as he can to remember his daddy. Guards have come into his cell making him get rid of most of his family picture and numerous of other things. And not once did they have a problem with Michael, yet this guard, Covenington, would every so often work back there where Michael is and every time he feels the need to prove something to all people held back there. You think our system doesn’t lie…well it does and very often. After this incident, they not only took his out side recreation from him, but also his phone calls for 30days. Not even taking into consideration he’s never given ANY problem before. But of course they have to believe their officers, because I’m sure none of them ever lie. Then after all this is done and he’s given back his recreation and calls, and a week or so goes by and they decide to put him behind glass. This is where they put people who frequently yell and give the officers a hard time. This was done even though Michael wasn’t giving any kind of problem. I called up there to ask why. I spoke with a Sergeant who works back where Michael lives and asked if Michael was any kind of bother. I was told No, not at all, but they had to follow orders that were given to them by the Captain (warden). And of course, when I spoke with the Captain, all he could do is LIE. He told me he never gave that order and for me to call him back Thursday. When I did, I was told he was off for the rest of the week. So again…Officers and Captains, they never lie or do they?
Monday, April 09, 2007
March 24, 2007 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
I continue to wait, I continue to hope even when “they” have tried to extinguish the light of Hope that drives me. Yet I push on and grow more and more hopeful.
Of the late, something has been brought unto my attention as an alternate route or thinking outside the box. I wonder if that is an option. Time will tell.
My second son tried to eat the phone today while I spoke to his mother. These little things make me laugh, but hurt so much at the same time. Almost every night I wonder if he knows he has a daddy. Does he still remember my voice from when I used to talk to him when he was in his mommy’s belly? I wish I could hold him and rock him to sleep as I’ve done so many times with hi older brother. I don’t wish for millions of dollars, or dream of fame and fortune, but dream of being able to walk in the front door to my home and wrapping my family in my arms. That might not seem like too much to some, but to me, Michael Victor Lugo, that is the Universe. All and everything. Maybe only a little longer and my wishes may become reality. This I can only hope for as I await in this Cell of Confinement like a snow covered ice cap that’s mountain top wishes to just feel the warmth of the sun.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
I continue to wait, I continue to hope even when “they” have tried to extinguish the light of Hope that drives me. Yet I push on and grow more and more hopeful.
Of the late, something has been brought unto my attention as an alternate route or thinking outside the box. I wonder if that is an option. Time will tell.
My second son tried to eat the phone today while I spoke to his mother. These little things make me laugh, but hurt so much at the same time. Almost every night I wonder if he knows he has a daddy. Does he still remember my voice from when I used to talk to him when he was in his mommy’s belly? I wish I could hold him and rock him to sleep as I’ve done so many times with hi older brother. I don’t wish for millions of dollars, or dream of fame and fortune, but dream of being able to walk in the front door to my home and wrapping my family in my arms. That might not seem like too much to some, but to me, Michael Victor Lugo, that is the Universe. All and everything. Maybe only a little longer and my wishes may become reality. This I can only hope for as I await in this Cell of Confinement like a snow covered ice cap that’s mountain top wishes to just feel the warmth of the sun.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
March 16, 2007 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
Today I was visited by those who fight for us. My moral is high and my spirit is humbled. Yet also as I’m writing in the shadow of my hand, my mind is, as it often does, thinking back to my father Victor Lugo. Sometimes I wonder how life would be if he was still with me and my brother. Would things be better or would they be worse? Who would I be today? It seems that a long as I can remember my father was always larger than life; the one I always looked up to, and not because I was a child and physically had to look up to him, but because of his presence, his love, his willingness to teach, and his belief that we would learn and excel.
I often wish my wife would have had the opportunity to meet him before he left the land of the living. I’ve told her endless stories of the past and joys and pains, and the example he left for me and Christopher. I wonder about the grandfather he would be today as I look at pictures of Nathan and Elijah, and as I do this I can’t help but think that in those eyes and smiles, that in a way he is with them, maybe even part of them. This I can only hope to be true. To say I miss his is not quite enough. It’s been 13 years, and at times it only feels like yesterday I had to watch my real life hero be lowered into the ground. Sometimes in my dreams I find him and tell him about my problems and worries, and he does what he’s always done…listen to me, never judging, but always loving and telling me how it is.
It is often ironic how life turns so quickly from the feeble plans we call ourselves making in life.
The beginning of my freshman year, things were so clear. College scholarship to Notre Dame for football, have an apartment with my Dad, and eventually play for our favorite team ever, the Chicago Bears. Yet untimely death, broken bones and broken homes had another plan as to which road I must travel. And through it all I can honestly say, I wouldn’t change a thing. Through pain we come to know joy, and through loss we come to see the beauty of Life. I would change nothing. Yes, I still wake up with tears from dreams with my father, but through it all my brother has excelled in life and is no doubt shinning in our father’s eyes. My mother has remarried and found true love again, and without question with my father’s blessings, and I’ve been blessed to be married and have two precious sons who have never met or seen my dad/their grandfather, but somehow I think they know him.
Maybe I let my Dad down in life, but I don’t think so because life as of yet is not over. And even through he’s not here to speak reason to me anymore, or to give me advice, in a strange way I think he spoke to me today. I know you’re still with me, and I hope and pray that time and circumstance allows me to be half the father to my boys that you were to me and Chris.
Thanks Dad for talking to me…I needed it. I love and miss you so much, and before it’s all over I promise I will make you proud of that lil guy I used to be.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
Today I was visited by those who fight for us. My moral is high and my spirit is humbled. Yet also as I’m writing in the shadow of my hand, my mind is, as it often does, thinking back to my father Victor Lugo. Sometimes I wonder how life would be if he was still with me and my brother. Would things be better or would they be worse? Who would I be today? It seems that a long as I can remember my father was always larger than life; the one I always looked up to, and not because I was a child and physically had to look up to him, but because of his presence, his love, his willingness to teach, and his belief that we would learn and excel.
I often wish my wife would have had the opportunity to meet him before he left the land of the living. I’ve told her endless stories of the past and joys and pains, and the example he left for me and Christopher. I wonder about the grandfather he would be today as I look at pictures of Nathan and Elijah, and as I do this I can’t help but think that in those eyes and smiles, that in a way he is with them, maybe even part of them. This I can only hope to be true. To say I miss his is not quite enough. It’s been 13 years, and at times it only feels like yesterday I had to watch my real life hero be lowered into the ground. Sometimes in my dreams I find him and tell him about my problems and worries, and he does what he’s always done…listen to me, never judging, but always loving and telling me how it is.
It is often ironic how life turns so quickly from the feeble plans we call ourselves making in life.
The beginning of my freshman year, things were so clear. College scholarship to Notre Dame for football, have an apartment with my Dad, and eventually play for our favorite team ever, the Chicago Bears. Yet untimely death, broken bones and broken homes had another plan as to which road I must travel. And through it all I can honestly say, I wouldn’t change a thing. Through pain we come to know joy, and through loss we come to see the beauty of Life. I would change nothing. Yes, I still wake up with tears from dreams with my father, but through it all my brother has excelled in life and is no doubt shinning in our father’s eyes. My mother has remarried and found true love again, and without question with my father’s blessings, and I’ve been blessed to be married and have two precious sons who have never met or seen my dad/their grandfather, but somehow I think they know him.
Maybe I let my Dad down in life, but I don’t think so because life as of yet is not over. And even through he’s not here to speak reason to me anymore, or to give me advice, in a strange way I think he spoke to me today. I know you’re still with me, and I hope and pray that time and circumstance allows me to be half the father to my boys that you were to me and Chris.
Thanks Dad for talking to me…I needed it. I love and miss you so much, and before it’s all over I promise I will make you proud of that lil guy I used to be.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
March 11, 2007 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
I am always becoming…becoming more and more of the person I am to forever be. And it is weird because when I look into the mirror, the face no longer resembles the man my mind pictured me to be. Yet, I am still just plain old me.
Received words of encouragement last night. It was good to hear your voice my friend. I pray all is well with you and your family. You are a proud father like me, and no doubt you’re showing your child off like a war vet that has won a Purple Heart. Times are hard and the oppression is forever upon me like a sickness that I just can’t seem to shake, but fear not…my Spirit has been low but never out of the fight. And thus my battle continues as many others’ also do.
Time is short. I feel this within my bones. Change is upon us also. Things will be discovered and liberation is close at hand. Everyone stand strong with me and we all will be victorious; Faith in The Almighty Lord and Faith in Our Defense Team.
I would like to thank any and all who have had my family in their prayers. My wife is making a great recovery from her heart surgery Thanks be to God, and my boys are doing well.
When I feel defeated, I know I’m not the only one fighting; when I feel sorrow I know there are happy times ahead; when I feel confined I know no matter what my spirit will always be free; and when I feel my thoughts are overwhelming I let them overflow through my pen to splash across the pages of Life in hopes that some of my thoughts with an arrangement of words will inspire or motivate someone who understands or seeks to know the true essence of Love. It comes first after all and all else will fall into place if one harbors Love. And yet I try to keep my hands, mind, and heart wrapped around it no matter how hard they try to take it from me. And the saga continues…”Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
I am always becoming…becoming more and more of the person I am to forever be. And it is weird because when I look into the mirror, the face no longer resembles the man my mind pictured me to be. Yet, I am still just plain old me.
Received words of encouragement last night. It was good to hear your voice my friend. I pray all is well with you and your family. You are a proud father like me, and no doubt you’re showing your child off like a war vet that has won a Purple Heart. Times are hard and the oppression is forever upon me like a sickness that I just can’t seem to shake, but fear not…my Spirit has been low but never out of the fight. And thus my battle continues as many others’ also do.
Time is short. I feel this within my bones. Change is upon us also. Things will be discovered and liberation is close at hand. Everyone stand strong with me and we all will be victorious; Faith in The Almighty Lord and Faith in Our Defense Team.
I would like to thank any and all who have had my family in their prayers. My wife is making a great recovery from her heart surgery Thanks be to God, and my boys are doing well.
When I feel defeated, I know I’m not the only one fighting; when I feel sorrow I know there are happy times ahead; when I feel confined I know no matter what my spirit will always be free; and when I feel my thoughts are overwhelming I let them overflow through my pen to splash across the pages of Life in hopes that some of my thoughts with an arrangement of words will inspire or motivate someone who understands or seeks to know the true essence of Love. It comes first after all and all else will fall into place if one harbors Love. And yet I try to keep my hands, mind, and heart wrapped around it no matter how hard they try to take it from me. And the saga continues…”Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
March 09, 2007 – In Mike’s Words
“Cell of Confinement”
Everything is a blur. From my earliest memories to the last word that is written in this sentence is a blur. Almost like they never happened and it is only a melodramatic movie that I just watch unfold in the theater of the mind. Or maybe even more interesting is that maybe all of this is a near death experience and I am reviewing my life that I already lived in detail, only in reality somewhere I am flat-lining with the beating drum growing lower and lower, until it’s just me, alone in this Cell of Confinement pondering the paths that are before me and the paths I’ve already roamed, yet only to question what is really real? And what if the beating drum that my soul dances to never starts again? Have I made this Cell my place of sanctuary, or is it I’ve become a slave of this deity only for eternally to keep hoping to be released when in reality there is no hope because I have created the Cell in which my mind and soul are confined to? But to be released is to come back to the beating of the drum, and at times I think I hear it, but it is so hard to find, like trying to follow the light of a star that is across the galaxy only to discover the star has been dead before you started following its path. Such an illusion. And yet things blur before my eyes as I sit at the desk within the inner office of my being and pull up images on my computer and watch them flash across the cast screen of my view. Yet, everything is still a blur; smiles and happiness followed by frowns and pain, hope and disappointment. Yet it is all present. I wonder what would happen if I unplugged the computer? What did I do before the computer, or has it always been present, only recently manifested outwardly? Who is to say and who knows who knows? Yet the only thing I know is I think I hear the beating, so I continue to sift through these blurred images to find that which provides. And thus I remain, “Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
Everything is a blur. From my earliest memories to the last word that is written in this sentence is a blur. Almost like they never happened and it is only a melodramatic movie that I just watch unfold in the theater of the mind. Or maybe even more interesting is that maybe all of this is a near death experience and I am reviewing my life that I already lived in detail, only in reality somewhere I am flat-lining with the beating drum growing lower and lower, until it’s just me, alone in this Cell of Confinement pondering the paths that are before me and the paths I’ve already roamed, yet only to question what is really real? And what if the beating drum that my soul dances to never starts again? Have I made this Cell my place of sanctuary, or is it I’ve become a slave of this deity only for eternally to keep hoping to be released when in reality there is no hope because I have created the Cell in which my mind and soul are confined to? But to be released is to come back to the beating of the drum, and at times I think I hear it, but it is so hard to find, like trying to follow the light of a star that is across the galaxy only to discover the star has been dead before you started following its path. Such an illusion. And yet things blur before my eyes as I sit at the desk within the inner office of my being and pull up images on my computer and watch them flash across the cast screen of my view. Yet, everything is still a blur; smiles and happiness followed by frowns and pain, hope and disappointment. Yet it is all present. I wonder what would happen if I unplugged the computer? What did I do before the computer, or has it always been present, only recently manifested outwardly? Who is to say and who knows who knows? Yet the only thing I know is I think I hear the beating, so I continue to sift through these blurred images to find that which provides. And thus I remain, “Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
March 02, 2007 – In Mike’s Words
“Cell of Confinement”
To say my spirit has been humbled is an understatement. Many times I get so wrapped up in my situation that is before me that I loose sight of those who have it worse and much harder than I. There are thousands of children who every day face more fearsome and deadly obstacles than what is before me. Yesterday and today, I shed so many tears as I listen to story after story of parents and how their children where diagnosed with cancer and their struggles through it. All the stories told of bravery that would dwarf those ancient legends of knights facing fire-breathing dragons, but not all the stories end with a happily. Most of the tales ended with their child passing away, but still with incredible courage. There are many things that I do not understand within this life that I journey through, but this I do know: Everything happens for a reason, and sometimes we have to really look to find and understand why things take place. I could not imagine loosing either of my boys, even though I’ve never held my second son, Elijah. Yet I’ve always held him in my heart, and to hear these parents who loved their children like me and my wife love our boys was soul wrenching; to listen to them loosing that lil person who can bring a smile to a face that sometimes doesn’t feel like smiling. At 8pm I pray every night, and I have a long list including those who wish my destruction, but tonight I just prayed for all those children who are in a real fight for their lives; who every day experience more pain than either you or I may ever face, and even though they be kids they end up teaching the adults so much more.
I don’t know if my prater will amount to much, or if my words come out right, but my Love and prayers are with the children and families at Saint Jude’s Children Research Hospital. If I was able to donate I would, maybe in the future, but at this present time all I have is tears and I pray with hope that cancer can be conquered.
To all the Kids, stay Strong, Never stop fighting, and always smile. You are heros to so many people you don’t even know You have touched.
From a Confined Mind, but a Free Soul.
Anyone who reads this please take the time to look into the Saint Jude’s Hospital and donate something to help the research. And if you’re unable to donate, then everyone can say a prayer.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
To say my spirit has been humbled is an understatement. Many times I get so wrapped up in my situation that is before me that I loose sight of those who have it worse and much harder than I. There are thousands of children who every day face more fearsome and deadly obstacles than what is before me. Yesterday and today, I shed so many tears as I listen to story after story of parents and how their children where diagnosed with cancer and their struggles through it. All the stories told of bravery that would dwarf those ancient legends of knights facing fire-breathing dragons, but not all the stories end with a happily. Most of the tales ended with their child passing away, but still with incredible courage. There are many things that I do not understand within this life that I journey through, but this I do know: Everything happens for a reason, and sometimes we have to really look to find and understand why things take place. I could not imagine loosing either of my boys, even though I’ve never held my second son, Elijah. Yet I’ve always held him in my heart, and to hear these parents who loved their children like me and my wife love our boys was soul wrenching; to listen to them loosing that lil person who can bring a smile to a face that sometimes doesn’t feel like smiling. At 8pm I pray every night, and I have a long list including those who wish my destruction, but tonight I just prayed for all those children who are in a real fight for their lives; who every day experience more pain than either you or I may ever face, and even though they be kids they end up teaching the adults so much more.
I don’t know if my prater will amount to much, or if my words come out right, but my Love and prayers are with the children and families at Saint Jude’s Children Research Hospital. If I was able to donate I would, maybe in the future, but at this present time all I have is tears and I pray with hope that cancer can be conquered.
To all the Kids, stay Strong, Never stop fighting, and always smile. You are heros to so many people you don’t even know You have touched.
From a Confined Mind, but a Free Soul.
Anyone who reads this please take the time to look into the Saint Jude’s Hospital and donate something to help the research. And if you’re unable to donate, then everyone can say a prayer.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
What is Love, or better said, True Love?
Love is understanding and forgiving even when we don't want to do either.
Love is placing that diamond ring upon the woman's finger who just told you I do.
Love is having your little brother completely embarrase you during his bestman speach for you and you appreciating every second of it.
Love is holding your child for the very first time and seeing the 100% trust in his eyes.
Love is painting Care Bears on the walls of our son's soon-to-be toom.
Love is although our son's room is great he still sleeps with us almost every night.
Love is being with the one who holds your heart on a distant island and watching the sun put on a brilliant sunset seeming just for us as we held one another with toes in the sand.
Love is bringing home flowers for no other reason than to just let my wife know I am thankful for her.
Love is when me and my lil brother jump around the room like gorillas until we fall down with laughter and tears.
Love is bringing a smile to my Grandmother's face when others make her uncomfortable.
Love is calling my mother to let her know she's going to be a grandmother...again.
Love is having your wife use your hand to cover her eyes during that intense part of the scary movie, as you both sit in a crowded theater and me being proud to give my hand.
Love is telling our son that his baby brother is in Mommy's belly and watching him give his brother a kiss through Mommy's tummy.
Love is dancing crazy around the dinning room table with my son in step and dogs behind him and my wife laughing out loud.
Love is being there for one another when Grandma passed away.
Love is absolutely doing nothing but being around one another and feeling completely comfortable.
Love is me sliding to the other end of the couch so my wife can stretch out and lay her head in my lap.
Love is dancing with my mother agter our wedding and her whispering that she is so proud of me.
Love is walking into my sister-in-law's house and my nieces yell, Tio! (uncle) and come give me a big hug.
Love is even when my wife gets drunk and a little crazy, she knows I'll take care of her like I care for our children.
Love is knowing that no matter the difficulities in life that Family sticks together.
Love is us with all the momories that we have made thus far, and looking forward to many many more to come. Times may be rough, but Love overlaps all pain and sorrow and transends both time and space.
I Love You All.
Michael Victor Lugo
Love is placing that diamond ring upon the woman's finger who just told you I do.
Love is having your little brother completely embarrase you during his bestman speach for you and you appreciating every second of it.
Love is holding your child for the very first time and seeing the 100% trust in his eyes.
Love is painting Care Bears on the walls of our son's soon-to-be toom.
Love is although our son's room is great he still sleeps with us almost every night.
Love is being with the one who holds your heart on a distant island and watching the sun put on a brilliant sunset seeming just for us as we held one another with toes in the sand.
Love is bringing home flowers for no other reason than to just let my wife know I am thankful for her.
Love is when me and my lil brother jump around the room like gorillas until we fall down with laughter and tears.
Love is bringing a smile to my Grandmother's face when others make her uncomfortable.
Love is calling my mother to let her know she's going to be a grandmother...again.
Love is having your wife use your hand to cover her eyes during that intense part of the scary movie, as you both sit in a crowded theater and me being proud to give my hand.
Love is telling our son that his baby brother is in Mommy's belly and watching him give his brother a kiss through Mommy's tummy.
Love is dancing crazy around the dinning room table with my son in step and dogs behind him and my wife laughing out loud.
Love is being there for one another when Grandma passed away.
Love is absolutely doing nothing but being around one another and feeling completely comfortable.
Love is me sliding to the other end of the couch so my wife can stretch out and lay her head in my lap.
Love is dancing with my mother agter our wedding and her whispering that she is so proud of me.
Love is walking into my sister-in-law's house and my nieces yell, Tio! (uncle) and come give me a big hug.
Love is even when my wife gets drunk and a little crazy, she knows I'll take care of her like I care for our children.
Love is knowing that no matter the difficulities in life that Family sticks together.
Love is us with all the momories that we have made thus far, and looking forward to many many more to come. Times may be rough, but Love overlaps all pain and sorrow and transends both time and space.
I Love You All.
Michael Victor Lugo
Sunday, April 08, 2007
February 19, 2007 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
I wander aimlessly down the halls ride on elevators to floors never seen before, and travel up stairs that I knew not existed, only to find a holding cell so quiet it pierces my ears. I believe I went to court today, or was I traveling within my mind, again? Sometimes reality is hard to distinguish, or maybe my mind is really hard to distinguish from self? Who is to say or judge? “Not I,” said the blind man, but he makes himself to see things that are not really there. And thus I am prosecuted.
I wonder to myself, what makes a man a good man? My wife often says that you’re not a man until you reach the age of 25. Can’t really remember why, but maybe because 25 years is long enough to experience most things? Maybe not. Either way, I constantly wonder how I can become a better man, more productive and more positive on my outlook on life and my influence on others. I have time to ponder these things and many more that flow through my mind, and at sometimes other thoughts creep in like a thief in the night. But fret not. My security system is top of the line, and none of those who cross the threshold of my domain continue.
My wife’s heart is hurt again, and she will shortly have surgery again. I pray and pray and continue to pray that her health improves. I would in a second trade hearts with her, so I would know she would be well. I was able to speak to her the other day, and was happy I was able to make her laugh and smile. I don’t know if she smiled, but in my mind’s eyes she smiled very beautifully for me. That and my children’s smiles help me upon this difficult road I’m on. And there are times my Spirit is so down and low, but I will never admit this to her because how I feel is secondary compared to her getting well. And me crying and complaining to her about things we can not change will only add to her stress. So I suppress that only for my wall sin this ‘Cell of Confinement’ to see and hear, and now this paper upon which you read. By the time this is posted, I hope my wife is done with her surgery and recovering. My thoughts are constantly with her, and often I speak to her and my children out loud hoping the elements take my thoughts and voice to their minds and ears. I can only hope.
I apologize to those who have written me in the past if I have not responded to you. My mind is all over the place, yet still right here. If I respond to some letters, I will be scrutinized by the powers that be, so I have not responded. I hope everyone understands.
To my Family, I love you all with all my heart and soul. Thank you for the constant support, if nothing more than a hello card. Those who have opposing views, then you are entitled to your own opinions, although I believe and practice that family loves and supports at all times, no matter the situations. Yet some don’t feel this same way. This also makes me sad.
The game has hit crunch-time, and I’ve always performed my best under pressure and in the clutch. Don’t tell me the odds, ‘cause I know they are against me, yet that drives me on. If I fall, I will get back up and move forward until one day I shatter the walls within this “Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
I wander aimlessly down the halls ride on elevators to floors never seen before, and travel up stairs that I knew not existed, only to find a holding cell so quiet it pierces my ears. I believe I went to court today, or was I traveling within my mind, again? Sometimes reality is hard to distinguish, or maybe my mind is really hard to distinguish from self? Who is to say or judge? “Not I,” said the blind man, but he makes himself to see things that are not really there. And thus I am prosecuted.
I wonder to myself, what makes a man a good man? My wife often says that you’re not a man until you reach the age of 25. Can’t really remember why, but maybe because 25 years is long enough to experience most things? Maybe not. Either way, I constantly wonder how I can become a better man, more productive and more positive on my outlook on life and my influence on others. I have time to ponder these things and many more that flow through my mind, and at sometimes other thoughts creep in like a thief in the night. But fret not. My security system is top of the line, and none of those who cross the threshold of my domain continue.
My wife’s heart is hurt again, and she will shortly have surgery again. I pray and pray and continue to pray that her health improves. I would in a second trade hearts with her, so I would know she would be well. I was able to speak to her the other day, and was happy I was able to make her laugh and smile. I don’t know if she smiled, but in my mind’s eyes she smiled very beautifully for me. That and my children’s smiles help me upon this difficult road I’m on. And there are times my Spirit is so down and low, but I will never admit this to her because how I feel is secondary compared to her getting well. And me crying and complaining to her about things we can not change will only add to her stress. So I suppress that only for my wall sin this ‘Cell of Confinement’ to see and hear, and now this paper upon which you read. By the time this is posted, I hope my wife is done with her surgery and recovering. My thoughts are constantly with her, and often I speak to her and my children out loud hoping the elements take my thoughts and voice to their minds and ears. I can only hope.
I apologize to those who have written me in the past if I have not responded to you. My mind is all over the place, yet still right here. If I respond to some letters, I will be scrutinized by the powers that be, so I have not responded. I hope everyone understands.
To my Family, I love you all with all my heart and soul. Thank you for the constant support, if nothing more than a hello card. Those who have opposing views, then you are entitled to your own opinions, although I believe and practice that family loves and supports at all times, no matter the situations. Yet some don’t feel this same way. This also makes me sad.
The game has hit crunch-time, and I’ve always performed my best under pressure and in the clutch. Don’t tell me the odds, ‘cause I know they are against me, yet that drives me on. If I fall, I will get back up and move forward until one day I shatter the walls within this “Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
February 16, 2007 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
I tried to pray tonight, but only empty words flowed out of my mind, which then trickled out my mouth. I have in the past, and I have tried to do it as of late, but Anger has replaced my prayers. Anger towards the system and those who make it turn. Anger at being trapped like an experimental mouse with only walls to guide me and the occasional open door, which is done by them.
I have been charged with Federal charges as of yesterday. My spirit has been broken, but not destroyed, although they wish it were. For whatever reason the powers that be want me so bad they set up all their jail house snitches all around me; they put them in my path; they put them by others in this jail house in hopes to extract information about me to be used against me. You are all Cowards! All of you! There is no light within any of you.
These confidential informants and cooperators are the worst crooks, and yet law enforcement uses them and pays them like a fellow employee without any care of the lives that hang in the balance; without any care of my wife, who will undergo another heart surgery do to all the burdens from all this. So what am I to do? Nothing. My resources are exhausted and there is no $ for a federal lawyer, so now my fate will go into the hands of someone who doesn’t really want my case. I would say my fate is in the hands of The Almighty, yet Doubt has gripped my heart. Maybe it was all an illusion or a mirage. Who can really tell? I am tired, but I can not close my eyes or lie down. If I die, I will die on my feet fighting until the very last breath in my body is gone. I know they want me to lie down like others who are working with the police, who are at home with their families, but at Hell in their hearts for their treason to what at one time they believed with all their hearts, minds, & souls. Or then again, maybe they don’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but themselves. And I am so disillusioned at that thought; that everything I stood for, believed in, and represented is…Nothing. So like the movie Matrix when ‘The One’ is asked, “Why does he keep fighting?” I likewise reply….because I choose to.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
I tried to pray tonight, but only empty words flowed out of my mind, which then trickled out my mouth. I have in the past, and I have tried to do it as of late, but Anger has replaced my prayers. Anger towards the system and those who make it turn. Anger at being trapped like an experimental mouse with only walls to guide me and the occasional open door, which is done by them.
I have been charged with Federal charges as of yesterday. My spirit has been broken, but not destroyed, although they wish it were. For whatever reason the powers that be want me so bad they set up all their jail house snitches all around me; they put them in my path; they put them by others in this jail house in hopes to extract information about me to be used against me. You are all Cowards! All of you! There is no light within any of you.
These confidential informants and cooperators are the worst crooks, and yet law enforcement uses them and pays them like a fellow employee without any care of the lives that hang in the balance; without any care of my wife, who will undergo another heart surgery do to all the burdens from all this. So what am I to do? Nothing. My resources are exhausted and there is no $ for a federal lawyer, so now my fate will go into the hands of someone who doesn’t really want my case. I would say my fate is in the hands of The Almighty, yet Doubt has gripped my heart. Maybe it was all an illusion or a mirage. Who can really tell? I am tired, but I can not close my eyes or lie down. If I die, I will die on my feet fighting until the very last breath in my body is gone. I know they want me to lie down like others who are working with the police, who are at home with their families, but at Hell in their hearts for their treason to what at one time they believed with all their hearts, minds, & souls. Or then again, maybe they don’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but themselves. And I am so disillusioned at that thought; that everything I stood for, believed in, and represented is…Nothing. So like the movie Matrix when ‘The One’ is asked, “Why does he keep fighting?” I likewise reply….because I choose to.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
February 10, 2007 - In Mike's Words
"Cell of Confinement"
My thoughts have become elusive, much like trying to grasp the hand of your shadow. At times you can see it and it is so close, yet it will never take place. So why pursue? Maybe for Hope’s sake, not for my sake, but to keep Hope alive, for I’ve come to realize that without me Hope dies, yet me without Hope will go on.
Those who have control over me in this dungeon have further tightened the chains that bind me. I try so hard to continue to pray for those who do me wrong, but these past weeks have been very hard and more than a few nights I have closed my eyes with prayers for only those in my heart. Am I wrong? I will try to again, but it is so difficult. Especially when certain officers come back here with malice in their hearts for me and use their positions to further hold me down in my struggle. What am I to do with Justice walking round trying to pin the tail on the donkey? And it appears that I am the jackass.
All I can do is hope in Hope that my children will know me; that my wife will soon have me back; that my family will soon see me; that those faithful also will be liberated from this injustice; that those who have turned against us will turn their thoughts, because we are not the enemy.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
My thoughts have become elusive, much like trying to grasp the hand of your shadow. At times you can see it and it is so close, yet it will never take place. So why pursue? Maybe for Hope’s sake, not for my sake, but to keep Hope alive, for I’ve come to realize that without me Hope dies, yet me without Hope will go on.
Those who have control over me in this dungeon have further tightened the chains that bind me. I try so hard to continue to pray for those who do me wrong, but these past weeks have been very hard and more than a few nights I have closed my eyes with prayers for only those in my heart. Am I wrong? I will try to again, but it is so difficult. Especially when certain officers come back here with malice in their hearts for me and use their positions to further hold me down in my struggle. What am I to do with Justice walking round trying to pin the tail on the donkey? And it appears that I am the jackass.
All I can do is hope in Hope that my children will know me; that my wife will soon have me back; that my family will soon see me; that those faithful also will be liberated from this injustice; that those who have turned against us will turn their thoughts, because we are not the enemy.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
“Grievance Form”
“Grievance Form”
Dear God, I respectfully submit this Grievance unto you-
Because in this Confinement Cell I’ve pursued every avenue.
Yet to no avail with the officers, who run and stand over me-
A lonely Voice in the wilderness Standing up for the things in which I believe.
But it’s so hard when you are Bound and physically Confined-
When thousand pound doors prevent your Freedom and concrete walls play Tricks on you Mind.
And when judges’ words of Corrupt political explanations continue to Hold you in this situation-
They try to Rob me of my Livelihood and every Ounce of Determination.
And yet I Continue…to pray with my tears Soaking the ground-
And although my Words may not be correct, proper or Profound.
I say the things that’s in my Heart and on my Mind that sharper than a heroin addicts Razor blade-
That’s better then a Million request forms and all the Grievance procedure the done made.
And that’s all I have, so I Hope that it makes its way to you-
I hope it gets to your desk, so maybe you’ll have a Chance to go through.
Some of the things that I put down, about how they Abuse power and think that no one Sees-
About how they think they’re so High and Mighty and so much better than me.
You see, God, you’re the only one that can Intervene, and whose authority Supersedes-
All these maggot mouth Jesters of Justice that wish to cause cruel and unusual Punishment upon me.
And yet if I try to Raise up and bear my arms, I’m Convicted as a felon in possession-
And that line Waiting to go to prison is longer then the mafia in a Catholic church waiting for Confession.
So what am I to Do? As I find myself with No more Resources and No more Rights-
You see, physically I’ve been Beaten, and now even mentally they chastise if I Fight.
Divide and Conquer, but I Refuse to submit, Lord, that’s why I’m submitting this to You-
Asking You to lend me a Hand, God. Damn, Lord, Please come though.
‘Cause I could use a little help…and I figure ruling the Universe ain’t no easy task-
And there are like…what? 6.7 billion other People with requests, and I wouldn’t be surprised if mine was Last.
So if you get the Time, please go over my Words-
Because there are some People here whose Voices go Unheard.
But yet I Speak and Continue to Fight in hopes I can sleep with Peace at night-
In Hopes that those Demons who plague my dreams will Fade away with the Morning Light.
But they’re still here with their Badges and Pistols and Tasers and Cuffs-
With their Cowboy mentality, they think they’re like WWE Smackdown tough.
And yet it takes five or Better just to Handle me-
And they try to Push, Antagonize, Provoke…so I Snap and additional charges are what I’ll see.
And thus I Grieve, with so much more that goes Unsaid-
With so many Conflicting emotions that I’m trying to Maintain that flow freely in my head.
So many Burdens on the Block, I’ll pray you’ll take the Time to read the things I put upon these Lines-
No Political Agenda; merely a soul Tired of being unjustly Confined.
Just another prisoner with a Number attached to my name-
In hopes you Receive this Grievance, from a Voice who is Detained.
“Grievance Form”
2007
by Michael Victor Lugo
Dear God, I respectfully submit this Grievance unto you-
Because in this Confinement Cell I’ve pursued every avenue.
Yet to no avail with the officers, who run and stand over me-
A lonely Voice in the wilderness Standing up for the things in which I believe.
But it’s so hard when you are Bound and physically Confined-
When thousand pound doors prevent your Freedom and concrete walls play Tricks on you Mind.
And when judges’ words of Corrupt political explanations continue to Hold you in this situation-
They try to Rob me of my Livelihood and every Ounce of Determination.
And yet I Continue…to pray with my tears Soaking the ground-
And although my Words may not be correct, proper or Profound.
I say the things that’s in my Heart and on my Mind that sharper than a heroin addicts Razor blade-
That’s better then a Million request forms and all the Grievance procedure the done made.
And that’s all I have, so I Hope that it makes its way to you-
I hope it gets to your desk, so maybe you’ll have a Chance to go through.
Some of the things that I put down, about how they Abuse power and think that no one Sees-
About how they think they’re so High and Mighty and so much better than me.
You see, God, you’re the only one that can Intervene, and whose authority Supersedes-
All these maggot mouth Jesters of Justice that wish to cause cruel and unusual Punishment upon me.
And yet if I try to Raise up and bear my arms, I’m Convicted as a felon in possession-
And that line Waiting to go to prison is longer then the mafia in a Catholic church waiting for Confession.
So what am I to Do? As I find myself with No more Resources and No more Rights-
You see, physically I’ve been Beaten, and now even mentally they chastise if I Fight.
Divide and Conquer, but I Refuse to submit, Lord, that’s why I’m submitting this to You-
Asking You to lend me a Hand, God. Damn, Lord, Please come though.
‘Cause I could use a little help…and I figure ruling the Universe ain’t no easy task-
And there are like…what? 6.7 billion other People with requests, and I wouldn’t be surprised if mine was Last.
So if you get the Time, please go over my Words-
Because there are some People here whose Voices go Unheard.
But yet I Speak and Continue to Fight in hopes I can sleep with Peace at night-
In Hopes that those Demons who plague my dreams will Fade away with the Morning Light.
But they’re still here with their Badges and Pistols and Tasers and Cuffs-
With their Cowboy mentality, they think they’re like WWE Smackdown tough.
And yet it takes five or Better just to Handle me-
And they try to Push, Antagonize, Provoke…so I Snap and additional charges are what I’ll see.
And thus I Grieve, with so much more that goes Unsaid-
With so many Conflicting emotions that I’m trying to Maintain that flow freely in my head.
So many Burdens on the Block, I’ll pray you’ll take the Time to read the things I put upon these Lines-
No Political Agenda; merely a soul Tired of being unjustly Confined.
Just another prisoner with a Number attached to my name-
In hopes you Receive this Grievance, from a Voice who is Detained.
“Grievance Form”
2007
by Michael Victor Lugo
January 19, 2007 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
It appears that powers that be are forever at work to tear down and destroy those who are righteous and faithful. I continue to pray for all those who are venomously against me and those who wish to be back with our families and loved ones. I pray for you and wish you no ill-will, although you wish ill-will upon me. Much like the Lord prayed to his Father when he was being crucified, I also ask, forgive them Father for they know not what they do, they don’t know the families they affect, the wives who only have tears to comfort them, our children who say prayers every night asking God to bring back their daddies and mommies. And for what? I don’t know, and sometimes it hurts me in my heart, but I guess those who do those things feel they have to. Yet, regardless I still have no ill-will; I only seek the Love of my Family to be reconnected. I hope though this chaotic path I travel that I’ll be able to remain strong, much like the walls in my Cell of Confinement; unmoving and solid.
Sorrow has taken my hand as I continue on. As I continue to fight for freedom, Sorrow whispers in my ear and does her best to distract me so I’ll fall victim. Yet my soul is greater than yours. I will make a path within this chaos so those who also travel this path will find it easier to make progress in this battle.
May those hearts that are hardened be softened.
May the hate and wickedness be replaced with Love and Understanding.
And may Our liberation come very soon with the doors and gates that bind us be opened for us to be a free soul again.
Until then I continue to battle these demons and dreams, and collapsing walls, and this distorted mirror alone in my freezing “Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
It appears that powers that be are forever at work to tear down and destroy those who are righteous and faithful. I continue to pray for all those who are venomously against me and those who wish to be back with our families and loved ones. I pray for you and wish you no ill-will, although you wish ill-will upon me. Much like the Lord prayed to his Father when he was being crucified, I also ask, forgive them Father for they know not what they do, they don’t know the families they affect, the wives who only have tears to comfort them, our children who say prayers every night asking God to bring back their daddies and mommies. And for what? I don’t know, and sometimes it hurts me in my heart, but I guess those who do those things feel they have to. Yet, regardless I still have no ill-will; I only seek the Love of my Family to be reconnected. I hope though this chaotic path I travel that I’ll be able to remain strong, much like the walls in my Cell of Confinement; unmoving and solid.
Sorrow has taken my hand as I continue on. As I continue to fight for freedom, Sorrow whispers in my ear and does her best to distract me so I’ll fall victim. Yet my soul is greater than yours. I will make a path within this chaos so those who also travel this path will find it easier to make progress in this battle.
May those hearts that are hardened be softened.
May the hate and wickedness be replaced with Love and Understanding.
And may Our liberation come very soon with the doors and gates that bind us be opened for us to be a free soul again.
Until then I continue to battle these demons and dreams, and collapsing walls, and this distorted mirror alone in my freezing “Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
January 18, 2007 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
Many times I often wonder to myself simply because there is no one other than myself to communicate with. And the times there are others close by I simple do not feel the need to communicate. So instead I listen and watch past memories play out in my mind. I daydream of future possibilities both good and bad. On the occasions where I can recall my dreams, I ponder upon them sometimes writing them down for later study, but most times my dreams are like the fog where the heat from the sun hits it. It slowly fades away.
And speaking of the sun, I have not felt the sun in so long that I long for it to maybe refresh my tired and weary soul. I still go outside, yet due to the season change and placement of my rec. area, the rays of sunshine do not reach me. They come close; about half way down the wall in a mocking gesture, but not ever reaching me.
As I sit here and think, and my thoughts turn like gears on a clock, I feel at times I (we) are very close to exposing this great blunder for what it is, and soon after our freedom shall come, but there are also times when I doubt and that the powers that be will be victorious over me. Faith is so easy to talk about, but very difficult to obtain, especially after so many defeats. Yet, I continue.
If I speak not and let my voice be suppressed, I know for a fact what will be the outcome and what they will do with me, yet if I speak and let the world hear me, yes I may at times sound foolish and I may pick up new enemies along the way, but I believe for us to stand idle is worse then babbling a million words. I will take my chances and roll the dice and speak my voice, for with this there is the possibility that soon I may be reunited with my wife and two lil boys, that soon all those who suffer as I do may also be returned to their respective family and loved ones. Remember, all we need is Justice – Just us. Through unity and love we can conquer those who oppress us. Without it we will crumble and fall.
When I returned from court, I had the opportunity to talk to Nathan, my oldest son, 2 years and 7 months old. He began to cry and said, “Daddy I want you come home NOW! I pray to Jesus!” I don’t believe a larger arrangement of words could have torn me down quicker than that exchange did.
I continue to fight; I continue to struggle for those who are unjustly being prosecuted; I continue for my family and those close to my heart; I continue for my wife who struggles to maintain, and I Fight and continue for my two little sons who are my light, who give me hope and bring a smile to my face when none other could.
Daddy is trying to make it home my sons, and I too pray to Jesus. I love you.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
Many times I often wonder to myself simply because there is no one other than myself to communicate with. And the times there are others close by I simple do not feel the need to communicate. So instead I listen and watch past memories play out in my mind. I daydream of future possibilities both good and bad. On the occasions where I can recall my dreams, I ponder upon them sometimes writing them down for later study, but most times my dreams are like the fog where the heat from the sun hits it. It slowly fades away.
And speaking of the sun, I have not felt the sun in so long that I long for it to maybe refresh my tired and weary soul. I still go outside, yet due to the season change and placement of my rec. area, the rays of sunshine do not reach me. They come close; about half way down the wall in a mocking gesture, but not ever reaching me.
As I sit here and think, and my thoughts turn like gears on a clock, I feel at times I (we) are very close to exposing this great blunder for what it is, and soon after our freedom shall come, but there are also times when I doubt and that the powers that be will be victorious over me. Faith is so easy to talk about, but very difficult to obtain, especially after so many defeats. Yet, I continue.
If I speak not and let my voice be suppressed, I know for a fact what will be the outcome and what they will do with me, yet if I speak and let the world hear me, yes I may at times sound foolish and I may pick up new enemies along the way, but I believe for us to stand idle is worse then babbling a million words. I will take my chances and roll the dice and speak my voice, for with this there is the possibility that soon I may be reunited with my wife and two lil boys, that soon all those who suffer as I do may also be returned to their respective family and loved ones. Remember, all we need is Justice – Just us. Through unity and love we can conquer those who oppress us. Without it we will crumble and fall.
When I returned from court, I had the opportunity to talk to Nathan, my oldest son, 2 years and 7 months old. He began to cry and said, “Daddy I want you come home NOW! I pray to Jesus!” I don’t believe a larger arrangement of words could have torn me down quicker than that exchange did.
I continue to fight; I continue to struggle for those who are unjustly being prosecuted; I continue for my family and those close to my heart; I continue for my wife who struggles to maintain, and I Fight and continue for my two little sons who are my light, who give me hope and bring a smile to my face when none other could.
Daddy is trying to make it home my sons, and I too pray to Jesus. I love you.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
January 12, 2007 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
Though vision is sometimes hazy and unclear, there are times when my eyes (all three) see past these steel doors, past these walls of concrete, and past the fences and miles to a house where I am no longer present except in thought and in photos. Sometimes I can still hear my son laughing with me as we play for no other reason than to be together. Some times my mind takes me back to the early mornings before I would depart for work as I would curl next to my wife and place my hand upon her belly to comfort her & Elijah, unborn at the time.
And yet as I drift on my thoughts and see through the mind’s eye, it is so simple and easy to see through all the obstacles that lay in my path. A path of chaos is the one I must travel to come back to peace, to my peace. At times my burden has become so heavy that my head begins to hang, but somehow I always find the strength to look to the Heavens for my Guidance. They have not misled me thus far. They brought me to my beautiful wife through a many broken roads and through our Love we begot out Children, and through our Children our Love has increased and strengthened the family as a whole.
Though these nights are the darkest I’ve seen in my journey, I know that if we all can weather the storm that refuge is close by, that the sun which gives us life will shine upon our faces soon. Remain strong to all, and even myself. Sometimes I need encouragement even if it only comes from the lonely face in the mirror.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
Though vision is sometimes hazy and unclear, there are times when my eyes (all three) see past these steel doors, past these walls of concrete, and past the fences and miles to a house where I am no longer present except in thought and in photos. Sometimes I can still hear my son laughing with me as we play for no other reason than to be together. Some times my mind takes me back to the early mornings before I would depart for work as I would curl next to my wife and place my hand upon her belly to comfort her & Elijah, unborn at the time.
And yet as I drift on my thoughts and see through the mind’s eye, it is so simple and easy to see through all the obstacles that lay in my path. A path of chaos is the one I must travel to come back to peace, to my peace. At times my burden has become so heavy that my head begins to hang, but somehow I always find the strength to look to the Heavens for my Guidance. They have not misled me thus far. They brought me to my beautiful wife through a many broken roads and through our Love we begot out Children, and through our Children our Love has increased and strengthened the family as a whole.
Though these nights are the darkest I’ve seen in my journey, I know that if we all can weather the storm that refuge is close by, that the sun which gives us life will shine upon our faces soon. Remain strong to all, and even myself. Sometimes I need encouragement even if it only comes from the lonely face in the mirror.
“Cell of Confinement”
by
Michael Victor Lugo
January 8, 2007 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
As I follow the paths within my mind, I find myself within the wilderness. Am I the voice that cries out from the wilderness? Or is it the crying of the voice that brought me here to seek out? And what if it is my voice that is the one crying out, yet it is the same that lead me to where I am? So who do I see? Or is it simply the voice within that has separated its self from me and cries out because of the separation and in hopes I shall find myself once again? Could it be God’s voice I hear? Yet the Almighty dwells within also. Sometimes I wonder if my mind, heart and soul have enough room for God; all the demons I have and myself to fit into myself. Yet then again, who am I? I believe I know myself, but there are times when I surprise even myself, so I must ever be on the ready against those who deceive with smile and promises of friendship, yet I must also be ready against myself to not trust when I find myself wanting to because as history has shown, those who put too much trust in too many people that no one trust them.
Where am I going? Not to sure. Just kinda floating on thoughts turned words with nothing in mind, or should I say with all things in mind. Forever reaching but never grasping and always looking, but don’t always see everything. Although I try.
Despite all my downfalls, I ask the Almighty Father to please make my children well. They have been sick for some time now. All things in due time. And thus I remain, “Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
As I follow the paths within my mind, I find myself within the wilderness. Am I the voice that cries out from the wilderness? Or is it the crying of the voice that brought me here to seek out? And what if it is my voice that is the one crying out, yet it is the same that lead me to where I am? So who do I see? Or is it simply the voice within that has separated its self from me and cries out because of the separation and in hopes I shall find myself once again? Could it be God’s voice I hear? Yet the Almighty dwells within also. Sometimes I wonder if my mind, heart and soul have enough room for God; all the demons I have and myself to fit into myself. Yet then again, who am I? I believe I know myself, but there are times when I surprise even myself, so I must ever be on the ready against those who deceive with smile and promises of friendship, yet I must also be ready against myself to not trust when I find myself wanting to because as history has shown, those who put too much trust in too many people that no one trust them.
Where am I going? Not to sure. Just kinda floating on thoughts turned words with nothing in mind, or should I say with all things in mind. Forever reaching but never grasping and always looking, but don’t always see everything. Although I try.
Despite all my downfalls, I ask the Almighty Father to please make my children well. They have been sick for some time now. All things in due time. And thus I remain, “Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
"Just Another #"
“Just Another #”
I read the paper, I hear the news about this War on Drugs-
About how they’re cracking down on crime, Gangs and Thugs.
Murder rate is on the Rise, Police Corruption can be seen-
Yet they slap me with this lifetime #, Constitutional Rights impossible to redeem.
And many things play with my Mind as I sit in my Confinement Cell-
How the Hell the police break more laws than all the Orange jumpsuits in jail?
How come out of 27 keys only 17 get turned in?-
And we wonder how these narcotics be rolling round pushin’ Benz.
Tax payers’ dollars, ain’t that a bunch of Shit-
Illegal search of my house this Good ‘Ole Boy system makes me sick.
And let’s talk about this money that Our Law Enforcement spends-
How about over Six Thousand for Lap Dances, Juice and Gin.
Then how about all the Dope they sell just trying to make a Bust?-
Yet if I try to feed my family going the same I’m looked upon with Disgust.
And what about the prison population that Wildly continues to Grow-
It’s the constant Struggle of Oppression; don’t act like you didn’t know.
Rehabilitation and education, Moral achievement and betterment-
Ain’t nowhere within those Revolving Doors of Correction they call a Department.
Nothing but Hustle and Survive, thoughts of home, live or Die-
Hurts like Hell, better believe it, yet never let them see you Cry.
While we Chained up in the System bound hands and feet-
And they steadily making Money off my Pain, while they continue to Lie and Cheat.
They got their Bullet Proof Vests, but tell me I can’t have One-
How am I supposed to Protect myself from police who shoot for Fun?
It’s a messed up World right now that we living in-
And my wife has the burden, Alone of raising two children.
Just like many Fathers across the Land, Out of lives we Disappear-
‘Cause these legislators are making Laws and don’t give a damn about Our Tears.
They don’t care about my Family, Don’t give a Damn about Yours-
All they care about is promotions and charges they can tack on to make your sentence more.
Well I don’t give a Damn about you and this # you put on me-
‘Cause I’m Always gonna Speak my mind, Rebellion is what you instilled prematurely.
So don’t look Crazy at the Crime rate when it reaches New Highs-
‘Cause you brought it upon yourself with laws of Enforcers of Deception and Lies.
Crooked smiles, Tarnished badges, Fictitious reasons, Cocked pistols like hunters-
I’m just a Prisoner of Your Politics, and to you “Just Another Number.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
I read the paper, I hear the news about this War on Drugs-
About how they’re cracking down on crime, Gangs and Thugs.
Murder rate is on the Rise, Police Corruption can be seen-
Yet they slap me with this lifetime #, Constitutional Rights impossible to redeem.
And many things play with my Mind as I sit in my Confinement Cell-
How the Hell the police break more laws than all the Orange jumpsuits in jail?
How come out of 27 keys only 17 get turned in?-
And we wonder how these narcotics be rolling round pushin’ Benz.
Tax payers’ dollars, ain’t that a bunch of Shit-
Illegal search of my house this Good ‘Ole Boy system makes me sick.
And let’s talk about this money that Our Law Enforcement spends-
How about over Six Thousand for Lap Dances, Juice and Gin.
Then how about all the Dope they sell just trying to make a Bust?-
Yet if I try to feed my family going the same I’m looked upon with Disgust.
And what about the prison population that Wildly continues to Grow-
It’s the constant Struggle of Oppression; don’t act like you didn’t know.
Rehabilitation and education, Moral achievement and betterment-
Ain’t nowhere within those Revolving Doors of Correction they call a Department.
Nothing but Hustle and Survive, thoughts of home, live or Die-
Hurts like Hell, better believe it, yet never let them see you Cry.
While we Chained up in the System bound hands and feet-
And they steadily making Money off my Pain, while they continue to Lie and Cheat.
They got their Bullet Proof Vests, but tell me I can’t have One-
How am I supposed to Protect myself from police who shoot for Fun?
It’s a messed up World right now that we living in-
And my wife has the burden, Alone of raising two children.
Just like many Fathers across the Land, Out of lives we Disappear-
‘Cause these legislators are making Laws and don’t give a damn about Our Tears.
They don’t care about my Family, Don’t give a Damn about Yours-
All they care about is promotions and charges they can tack on to make your sentence more.
Well I don’t give a Damn about you and this # you put on me-
‘Cause I’m Always gonna Speak my mind, Rebellion is what you instilled prematurely.
So don’t look Crazy at the Crime rate when it reaches New Highs-
‘Cause you brought it upon yourself with laws of Enforcers of Deception and Lies.
Crooked smiles, Tarnished badges, Fictitious reasons, Cocked pistols like hunters-
I’m just a Prisoner of Your Politics, and to you “Just Another Number.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
December 27, 2006 - In Mike's Words
“Cell of Confinement”
A house divided against its self cannot stand, quoting Abe Lincoln in one of his famous speeches before his presidency. There are those who are confined much like myself, but for shorter periods of time, and in their time of confinement they begin to “act” crazy, screaming and yelling, banging and doing ignorant things to draw attention unto themselves. At times this gets to me, for I have been within the Pits of the Beast for seven months straight, and yet I adapt and proceed, with no release within sight. Yet to some, this 10x7 begins to crush and walls begin to speak and the quietness often lets one hear who they truly are within their mind. Most cannot stand it, so they act as they do to try to over power the quietness that is so loud back here, but they are unable. This makes me wonder, am I that much mentally stronger than the regular, or are they that much weaker then the regular? Which is it? And in an environment when Darwin’s Law rings true, I will always remain atop the mountain because of my Warrior’s spirit, but I also begin to see clearly again. It is not their fault for the way they act; it is those who place such inhumane conditions upon those mentally unable to adequately handle such enclosed conditions. The oppressor is very cunning. To further divide us sews dissension amongst the strong and the weak in spots like this, yet if we as a whole were to be together in the struggle, we would be strong completely. Awareness is in my nature, yet my soul is sad, because I am also a realist and I know most within the Beast and outside do not harbor change, only comfort in what they know. And until change can be made, the road for those of us who struggle for what is right will forever be trying to fix a broken house that is divided and ready to fall. A house divided against its self cannot stand, yet jails, prisons and Cells of Confinements are always open and will remain as such until we close them. Peace to all. Thank you to my family who suffers with me and supports with whole hearts. I must let my voice be heard, for if not me than who would stand up to speak? None so far, so I make a path. To those who read these words, I ask that you pray for the families of all incarcerated, for the family hurts as we do. May the New Year bring good tidings.
To my two sons, there are times early in the morning when I close my eyes and I can picture you soundly sleeping in your mother’s loving arms safe from all worries and harm, and oh how I long to hold you all. It becomes so clear at times I can almost touch you, but open my eyes when my hand touches the cold wall…here in this “Cell of Confinement.”
By Michael Victor Lugo
A house divided against its self cannot stand, quoting Abe Lincoln in one of his famous speeches before his presidency. There are those who are confined much like myself, but for shorter periods of time, and in their time of confinement they begin to “act” crazy, screaming and yelling, banging and doing ignorant things to draw attention unto themselves. At times this gets to me, for I have been within the Pits of the Beast for seven months straight, and yet I adapt and proceed, with no release within sight. Yet to some, this 10x7 begins to crush and walls begin to speak and the quietness often lets one hear who they truly are within their mind. Most cannot stand it, so they act as they do to try to over power the quietness that is so loud back here, but they are unable. This makes me wonder, am I that much mentally stronger than the regular, or are they that much weaker then the regular? Which is it? And in an environment when Darwin’s Law rings true, I will always remain atop the mountain because of my Warrior’s spirit, but I also begin to see clearly again. It is not their fault for the way they act; it is those who place such inhumane conditions upon those mentally unable to adequately handle such enclosed conditions. The oppressor is very cunning. To further divide us sews dissension amongst the strong and the weak in spots like this, yet if we as a whole were to be together in the struggle, we would be strong completely. Awareness is in my nature, yet my soul is sad, because I am also a realist and I know most within the Beast and outside do not harbor change, only comfort in what they know. And until change can be made, the road for those of us who struggle for what is right will forever be trying to fix a broken house that is divided and ready to fall. A house divided against its self cannot stand, yet jails, prisons and Cells of Confinements are always open and will remain as such until we close them. Peace to all. Thank you to my family who suffers with me and supports with whole hearts. I must let my voice be heard, for if not me than who would stand up to speak? None so far, so I make a path. To those who read these words, I ask that you pray for the families of all incarcerated, for the family hurts as we do. May the New Year bring good tidings.
To my two sons, there are times early in the morning when I close my eyes and I can picture you soundly sleeping in your mother’s loving arms safe from all worries and harm, and oh how I long to hold you all. It becomes so clear at times I can almost touch you, but open my eyes when my hand touches the cold wall…here in this “Cell of Confinement.”
By Michael Victor Lugo
December 13, 2006 - In Mike's Words
"Cell of Confinement"
I wonder why when I close my eyes do I see ice blue lily petals falling into a gentle stream that flows like glass towards an endless path of water that seems to move, yet not move at all. I wonder where this stream starts, or if it does have a starting point. Maybe it circles and is complete, or maybe somewhere down the stream, farther than I can see it becomes violent, or maybe falls off some high cliff? Or is that before where I stand now? As I stare at the lilies I find myself wanting to pick one up, but I know if I move too much this peaceful image may flee from me. So I move not, but continue to watch the petals spin beautifully across the rivers of my mind, viewable to none other than the inner eye who watches and sees all, understanding sometimes slips through the cracks, yet my pursuit of understanding has brought me here. But where am I? Yet, I continue the Righteous Path of the Warrior, alone most times, yet in Love I know those who are within my Love.
My children remain healthy and strong; my soul is shredded and bleeds to be away from you and my wife. This season will be hard, but I know you’ll overcome. I love you and miss you deeply. I pray for all those who suffer; Justice will come soon. One more day, tear and prayer, and we will make it. To those who hate and wish destruction, so many lives are being torn apart, and for what?
I never break character, and my character will not be broken. And thus I continue…“Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
I wonder why when I close my eyes do I see ice blue lily petals falling into a gentle stream that flows like glass towards an endless path of water that seems to move, yet not move at all. I wonder where this stream starts, or if it does have a starting point. Maybe it circles and is complete, or maybe somewhere down the stream, farther than I can see it becomes violent, or maybe falls off some high cliff? Or is that before where I stand now? As I stare at the lilies I find myself wanting to pick one up, but I know if I move too much this peaceful image may flee from me. So I move not, but continue to watch the petals spin beautifully across the rivers of my mind, viewable to none other than the inner eye who watches and sees all, understanding sometimes slips through the cracks, yet my pursuit of understanding has brought me here. But where am I? Yet, I continue the Righteous Path of the Warrior, alone most times, yet in Love I know those who are within my Love.
My children remain healthy and strong; my soul is shredded and bleeds to be away from you and my wife. This season will be hard, but I know you’ll overcome. I love you and miss you deeply. I pray for all those who suffer; Justice will come soon. One more day, tear and prayer, and we will make it. To those who hate and wish destruction, so many lives are being torn apart, and for what?
I never break character, and my character will not be broken. And thus I continue…“Cell of Confinement.”
By
Michael Victor Lugo
December 8, 2006 - In Mike's Words
"Cell of Confinement"
Today has been trying to say the least. My thoughts become bitter as I sit and waste away in this unsanitary place where sewage water continuously is backed up and fills this great place with an even greater aroma. My soul is tired today, maybe sleep will offer some relief, some momentary peace; maybe I'll see my wife or my two sons while the Dream Catcher cast his net upon me. Maybe not, but he is sure to take me away from this place, even if it is just for a fleeting dream.
Michael Victor Lugo
Today has been trying to say the least. My thoughts become bitter as I sit and waste away in this unsanitary place where sewage water continuously is backed up and fills this great place with an even greater aroma. My soul is tired today, maybe sleep will offer some relief, some momentary peace; maybe I'll see my wife or my two sons while the Dream Catcher cast his net upon me. Maybe not, but he is sure to take me away from this place, even if it is just for a fleeting dream.
Michael Victor Lugo
Monday, December 25, 2006
The Night Before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the jail,
A many a hearts were low, unable to make bail;
Quietly I hummed an old Christmas song,
In hopes the New Year will bring me home; in hopes it won’t be long;
Christmas cards are set up on my desk where I can see,
A reminder of my loved ones, those who miss me;
Pictures are hard to look at, because I see my children’s eyes,
Knowing they’ll wake up tomorrow with questions of why;
Why is Daddy gone? I thought Santa would bring him home,
I thought if I was good, Daddy would come home from the phone;
And on this night I wonder, if the judge is snug in his bed,
Does my family cross his mind? Can he hear my son’s prayers in his head?
And what about the prosecutor, how is she on this beautiful night?
Does she sleep sound knowing what she does isn’t right?
And what about the detectives who work so earnestly on my case,
They know they’re doing us wrong, because in court they can’t look me in my face;
And what about the mighty sheriff, whose word is basically law,
It seems now I am his scapegoat, a 2.5 million dollar flaw;
What is one to do when the stakes are so high?
And it seems they become angered because my soul won’t comply;
So it was the night before Christmas and all throughout my cell,
I sing songs to my family, say prayers, and wish them well;
The oppression seems forever; the depression comes and goes,
At times I can smile, somehow my heart just knows;
Hard times don’t last forever; I close my eyes and I can see,
All I want for Christmas is to be back home with my family;
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all throughout the jail,
To all a Merry Christmas, from the depths of this Confinement Cell.
A many a hearts were low, unable to make bail;
Quietly I hummed an old Christmas song,
In hopes the New Year will bring me home; in hopes it won’t be long;
Christmas cards are set up on my desk where I can see,
A reminder of my loved ones, those who miss me;
Pictures are hard to look at, because I see my children’s eyes,
Knowing they’ll wake up tomorrow with questions of why;
Why is Daddy gone? I thought Santa would bring him home,
I thought if I was good, Daddy would come home from the phone;
And on this night I wonder, if the judge is snug in his bed,
Does my family cross his mind? Can he hear my son’s prayers in his head?
And what about the prosecutor, how is she on this beautiful night?
Does she sleep sound knowing what she does isn’t right?
And what about the detectives who work so earnestly on my case,
They know they’re doing us wrong, because in court they can’t look me in my face;
And what about the mighty sheriff, whose word is basically law,
It seems now I am his scapegoat, a 2.5 million dollar flaw;
What is one to do when the stakes are so high?
And it seems they become angered because my soul won’t comply;
So it was the night before Christmas and all throughout my cell,
I sing songs to my family, say prayers, and wish them well;
The oppression seems forever; the depression comes and goes,
At times I can smile, somehow my heart just knows;
Hard times don’t last forever; I close my eyes and I can see,
All I want for Christmas is to be back home with my family;
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all throughout the jail,
To all a Merry Christmas, from the depths of this Confinement Cell.
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