Many years ago I was driving home from somewhere, I don't remember where I'd been, but I remember the night. I was by myself both in my car and on the highway. Oh, there were a few trucks here and there, but for the most part it was just me, my car, and the full moon. I've always been fascinated with the "moon", especially a "full" one, and on that particular lonely night, it seemed as if the moon rode right outside the window of my car.

I couldn't lose it, no matter how many miles I drove, and it wouldn't let me go either. Finally, while driving, I found some paper and a pen and wrote this poem. I've always kept it around, and a few times I screwed with the words, trying to change it and make it better. Never could change it. It remains today the way I wrote it on that lonely night many years ago.

P.S. I posted it on this site about a month ago, so, forgive me for bringing it up again, but I think it good enough for a --- "repeat".

Moondust

full moon in a faraway place
a misty orb adrift
its yellowy glow an eerie thing
like a soft laugh in empty air

as elusive as a lovers wish
giving of itself just a mere taste
while lost in time with no end
a destiny so endless

and like the man
these words spring from
mysteries abound
as different as each particle of sand

we are all in a faraway place
far from home
souls with a worried face
all together and alone

strung alike so purposely
lest we are left to wonder why
without a reason one
all for the good... I suppose

twas just past the witching hour
this halloween night
when suddenly I awoke
had someone spoke?

a dastardly dream I'd had
of an amusement park
and a ride taken as a lark
upon a raggedly old roller coaster
it's name; the "90 second ride"

as we climbed the path called life
through a peaceful green forest
with people young and beautiful all about
I breathed deeply of the young night

a slow tug; just a lugging up the hill
I stood in my seat;hands up and waving
as I preened for all the young maidens to see
no fear of a mountain so huge and tall
I laughed at it's ghostly shadows

thinking everything so easy and natural
till suddenly;a leveling of the keel
a ride so changed
excitement in the air

the slow clickity clack tempo
increasingly faster and faster
I slowly lowered my arms
as the world tilted downward
the floor of life now gone

and time in a bottle
plunged off a cliff
and in it's exhilarating downward spiral
past eerie forms; surreal and fleeting
I barely noticed that I wasn't the first

no time to even say hello
so steep my ride had become
gripping hard this vehicle of life
I held with all my might

as I roared through the long night
flashing lights; thrilling sights
to a new morning; receding stars still so bright
a journey just begun

and within all the fury
I urged myself onward
more thrills to come; more hills to climb
again I wanted that wind to feel

and once more I dropped
into a deep fall
the "G's" so stiff
I thought I might be flying

with hands held aloft
eyes wide to see all
behold the young man
so strong and brave,

it seemed to last forever
and though the biggest hill still loomed
in a headlong rush
I knew this one would have to last

and in a brief respite
I bent low to grasp the bar
as I topped the mightiest hill of all
on top of the world

from a dizzyingly height
I surveyed my kingdom
thinking of all the people before
as I felt the bottom gently leave

slipping slowly from me
like a thief in the night
leaving only terror ahead
as I climbed the last mountain

and wrapped in knowledge and wisdom
I became one with the ending journey
a long, slow arrival
back to the top of the world

down the slippery slope I fell
again the wind in my face
excitement in my heart
but a sinking sadness also

as I could plainly see
there would be no more hills
the "90 second ride"
was coming to an end

dateline.."The New Residencia" --- it has come to our attention that the great Blogmaster in his infinite wisdom has decided to issue a proclamation that all Blogs are to be rated on a scale of 1-5.We, here at "The New Residencia" applaud such action as means to identify between the outstanding blogs,and the other, so-so blogs.

Now - to the News - A giant "free for all" took place last evening on the "Blogstream", leaving several bloggers with "blogging hangovers" this morning, including this reporter. What started the "melee" is unclear at this posting, but, it is thought that a blogger known around the Blogstream as "Stealthy One" started the whole mess by advancing the idea that it might be nice to check out the blogging site of a new, and fresh blogger by the name of "Lyle" something or other. Posted on his blog was a "fat man's butt" which someone had painted a rather good looking pumkin on it. In the picture the "fat man" with the "pumkin" painted on his "ass" appeared to sitting on a commode.

The picture, in and of itself, was probably not the spark that lit the fuse that exploded the bomb - on Blogstream. "The New Residencia" has learned that the "spark" that got all the crap started - came from "another" blogger, who goes by the name of "Wally".

It seems that "Wally" let slip the fact that it was his butt in the picture and that the "stealthy one" had took the picture, and as to "who" painted the "orange pumkin" on his butt - was no other than a rather "well known" blogger by the name of "Scratch".

What actually caused the "firestorm" than followed was that all the particulars immediately went into "denial", even to point of laying the blame off on others, including the well respected "wife of God", who inadvertenly was exposed to "not" actually being the wife of God, which set off several "brush fires" all over the Blogstream.

As a sidebar, it must be noted here that "several lawsuits" have been filed this morning, related to last night's uproar, one of which is the one filed by Mrs. God. She is alleging in her suit that her reputation was smeared in several different ways, the worst being that the "real size of her ass" was released to the Blogstream by another blogger by the name of "Debunkem".

The defendents named in her suit are two bloggers known as "Wally" and "Blog Stalker a.k.a. "ol stealthy one", for unflattering remarks, they are alleged to of made, concerning Mrs God and her butt. She did, however, commend one blogger, for his efforts to keep calm, and figure things out, and this was the blogger known/loved all over Blogstream by the affectionate name of "Icemelts".

It also must be noted here that for some unknown reason, one of the prime instigators, the blogger known far and wide as "Scratch" was left off her suit. Speculation here is that the reason being might have something to do with the fact that Scratch spent the night at Mrs. God's house consoling her during her time of distress.

Also, there is speculation circulating Blogstream about "how Mr. Debunkem" escaped the wrath of God's wife. Many experts are saying that she (God's wife) was afraid that Mr. Debunkem might possess other even more incriminating information (on her). Mr. Debunkem has refused to answer any queries from this rag, instead, he is referring all inquiries to his lawyer, a Mr. C. Hump.

We will keep you updated as events unfold. Stay tune and "keep buying this rag".

Attention: we would like to announce a new benefit to subscribing to "The New Residencia", which is as follows:

1. all subscribers rating "The New Residencia" as a 5-STAR Blog will receive their newspapers free of charge, hand delivered to their front door, and upon request we will "kiss and powder" anybodys ass who desires it.

Well this day sure turned on a dime, did it not? Many questions got asked, with few answers. "The New Residencia", is befuddled at the moment in trying to figure out tomorrows edition lead story. We have several mysteries going on at the moment.

1. Where did the "fat pumkin man" come from and where did he go?

2. Who is the "fat pumkin man", and who painted his ass with the orange decoration that looked similar to a pumkin?

3. What is in that bottle that Scratch keeps going to?

4. How does Opie figure into this?

5. Is Wally really the Beavers big brother?

6. Was it Mrs. God's butt that had the pumkin on it, and what size panties does she really wear?

7. Did the Blog Stalker really paint the pumkin ass on Scratch or not?

8. Is Debunk really studying for a test to be a "Resident Priest at Shang-ra-li?

9. Did Scram Gravy pour gravy in Schoazzers Lovers computer?

10. Were those horses on the carosel spinning or not?

11. How do you spell carosel?

stay tune for late breaking developments and ----------------- "keep buying this rag."

I done (last night) what I’ve never done before.
You know what I mean, of what I speak,
cause you’ve always wanted to do it,
but haven’t yet..…

Does it break your heart, or give you joy
To know of my night?
That I trod a path not many have,
and felt what you only long to feel.

Will you listen to my words in awe?
Or squirm with unsaid envy?
All these questions; and no answers;
other than the harsh truth.

Just try to know…
I want the same for you.
But I know not how,
to show you.

but let me tell you
of the magical feeling it was,
last night,
when I stepped back into time.

To a time long ago,
but yet…
always close by,
though just out of reach.

Till now
for me at least,
cause I’ve been there
and it was a blast.

The stale air of today
was electric back then,
when music was taking off
to who knew where.

The first thing I done,
was to grab a telephone pole,
cause I knew now
how fast time spun.

The place I was…
reminded me of L.A.
on a summer night,
oh what a sight!

Once again
I felt the world’s pulse as mine.
and realized the only thing to do,
was to let go

And hurtling through corridors of time,
I relived it all,
to the finest detail,
I was there.

I heard a new song..
rising in the charts..
Everybody getting into it
Grooving….

And said;
I’ve heard that song before,
seems like I’ve heard it
all my life.

I seen all the politicians,
elected or not,
with the same confused look
they’ve always had.

Staring at the abyss,
That separated my generation
from “The Greatest Generation,”
I remembered how different we were.

Than any other to come before us;
not the greatest like our fathers,
we didn’t win the war,
but there wasn’t much to win…

And to us the win
didn’t justify
the cost.
no, not at all

We were poorly motivated,
for we doubted what we were hearing.
Make no mistake - we all did;
but, not all - did anything about it.

And in the end,
we went nowhere,
wore down by time,
we fell in line.

Retreating from the abyss,
I heard the unmistakable first sounds;
of “I heard it through the grapevine.”
rumbling thunder - put to music

And I stood at the bar,
bell bottoms dragging the floor,
and pretended to not see
her eyes taking me in.

So I said.
“been here, done this,”
and knew that soon it would be
been there, done that.

You want to know the details?
Let me tell you..
I remember - even the picture
On the cover of my matches…

The spark in her eyes,
the clanking sounds of the pool tables,
the band getting ready to play,
and me too.

You will just have to imagine the rest of the night,
at least for now,
cause I can’t tell you anymore.
at least for now.