Ol’ 55

I celebrated my birthday yesterday with a bit of obvious ambivalence glad for the experience gained sad for the things I’ve never changed it precipitated an objective retrospective changed my perspective by directive Whom have I influenced within my sphere is the world really any better here have I made a difference by my presence or fallen to the acquiescence of obsolescence? This quest has drawn a certain conclusion only change is constant … that’s no illusion knowledge never is perfectly complete life’s learned lessons are quite bittersweet. 01/28/01 © Lunarmax All Right Reserved

the moonius moniker

Having been dubbed mellonius moonius maximus in another space and time, I have an avid interest in the earth's moon and other planetary moons as well. This morning as I departed for the radio studio, I saw the new moon. What was unique about it was the crescent was on the bottom of the sphere...like a smile. Never saw anything like that before! While reading about the history of the Cherokee this evening, I happened upon this page about Cherokee moons... quite interesting.

Solo

Lamplight creates the ambience as I slip into the dusky dining room My eyes slowly adjust to the absence of fluorescence as I stake my claim at the empty table No one is aware of my presence here creating my own atmosphere Sitting in obscurity, apathetic about etiquette extremely aware of my own introversion Desiring not conversation but rather silence Preferring solitude over the lonely crowded room. © Lunarmax 1997 All Rights Reserved

Wonderworld

This is the summer of my discontent no surprise I could see it coming. The pursuit of power was my dream but now I know that fame is not synonymous with success. work no longer is a challenge lost its thrill and cutting edge more money doesn't fulfill my needs it only serves to feed my greed. my soul wants to move on and my spirit longs to soar high above to the next level. Grown weary of the thriving metropolis the peaking decibels of noise, the harried frenetic pace of life, the inescapable stench of pollution, the deceived, enslaved people all working on their image control while the lusty lure of temptation and the cloak of paranoia abound. Longing for the earthy aroma of rich farm land, the taste of cool, fresh spring water on my parched lips, the golden rays to tan my wanting face the feel of soft green grass, the potpourri of wildflower perfume, ancient trees, majestic mountains crouching below billowy skies the cries of wildlife and the inescapable light of the yellow moon. Wage war against the spirit of discontent return to that place of solitude and safety breathe the cool, crisp morning air of freedom bask in the baking warmth of summer southern sunshine bathe in cleansing cold pelting drops of a drenching downpour become one with nature again, and again be accepted for the content of your character rather than the color of your skin and measure wisdom by the number of years rather than by titles or degrees. © Lunarmax 2001 All Rights Reserved