First throw:

"Mother arrested in murder of Infanticide feared more widespread than President denies involvement in slush fund, blames Moon may hold subterranean ice at south pole, scientists speculate UN Secretary pleads to allow humanitarian aid in embargo of Successful organ transplants raise question of black market Reserves of oil found inadequate for Federal Court reversal of voter initiatives."

Second throw:

"Congressman denies involvement with Record highs in the basin where Renegade bear seeking avocados found in swimming pool Accident claims the lives of over two hundred New drugs for AIDS seek Japanese guru accused of subway gassing Thousands of cattle slaughtered because Subway project's feasibility questioned by Sole survivor of shipwreck who Alleged errors at largest bank in Somalia Rwanda Bosnia Education said to lag behind that of whites."

The news makes as much sense in random order
as it does in sequence.

I know the way a lonely person acts,
Alone with his thoughts, the shadows of his mind,
Fear, fright, remorse when he dares to think back,
To the years of regret, he chose to be alone.

I know the way a lonely person dreams,
Big, bold, beautiful the conquest is in sight,
For tomorrow, tomorrow may even be tonight.
But back to being lonely someone turned off the light.

And now I'm alone and I know me,
Wishing, waiting, wanting, someone, something set me free,
Show me the place where I have to be,
And please God take all this lonliness from inside of me.

a year ago who'da thought?
of this place we now call home.
a year ago who'da thought?
none, for it had been condone.
a year ago who'da thought?
things so false now so true.
a year ago who'da thought?
not him nor her nor I nor you.

a year ago who'da thought?
a change can take a million years.
a year ago who'da thought?
can you see it through all those tears?
a year ago who'da thought?
or a change may be a second thought not as taboo.
a yeat ago who'da thought?
so now what will you do?

For, there was a time
When all there was to see
Was lonliness and those angel eyes,
The reflecting glass and me.

Now I see a much brighter man
Who only longs to be
The sum of pain and happiness
For those angel eyes to see.

So, when I look into those angel eyes
And feel my spirit grow,
My heart is pounding with passion sounds...
I want the world to know!

That through a dear and precious one
I may begin my stay...
A place where those angel eyes
Look after me every day.

My senses are filled
With love and desire.
My soul is so loud...
My heart is on fire!

Her calm...her touch
Enriches me now.
I can only dream...
Not of when...but how...

I'll give my gift to her
For angeleyes to see
My passion song...
The one she sings to me.

A way that two like us
so solid in our ways
could find it so delightful to
communicate these days.

And to think that we could dream
of a day that we should meet
makes them wonder so
of what there is to greet.

They do not understand
how we could take this chance
and travel to a foreign land
for what might be one dance.

All our friends say to us
in a very curious tone
that when you reach your meeting spot
you might be all alone.

What they haven't said to us
is that their wish... it might be them
who takes a risk and follows their heart
to maybe find a friend.

It's sad to know that they can be
so careful and alert
for they could not in their wildest dreams
prepare themselves to hurt.

It is easy for us to take that chance
and both be in accord,
for we have always known
the risk is the reward.

So, search your soul, if you dare,
all of you who doubt
and take a chance at searching
to find what you're all about.

For no matter what you think of this
you might find it so
that when you follow your heart and soul
it is you you'll come to know!
 

     I love what you do for me,
How can I use these words with you,
If they've been wasted on a truck.

     The best I can do is say.

    When I'm with you,
It's like basking in the high noon sun,
Engulfing the warmth and radiance,
Helping me grow,
As you do emotionaly

     You are as beautiful as,
The morning dew,
On the autumn grass,
Glistening in the sunlight.

     You are as elegant as,
A deer frollicking through a forest,
Then stopping to drink,
From the cool refreshing mountain spring water.

     You are like a rose,
A single rose among a garden of weeds,
Putting all others to shame.

    You are the rose in my garden of life,
Like a thorn can hurt,
So can a few harsh words from you.

     I need you,
Like a plant needs the sunlight,
It can live without it,
But it's an ugly miserable life.

     I love you,
But then,
All these words have been wasted.

You reached out, I held on fast
Your lips to mine, fingers entwined
We circled around, diminishing the distance
Eye to eye, thought to thought
Connection of feeling while fearing reality
 

Blinded by the reflecting signs
We pull apart to understand
Confusion reigns while attraction abounds
The end becomes the beginning,
the circle remains
 

The cemetery winds
Wind, twist, curl
Around the grey bark
Of the petrified graveyard tree
Darkness rises
The night lifting the very earth up with it
To the sky
Dead brittle branches
Etch the spider tracks
Across the glowing moon
 
Whispers in the dark
Embrace the night time dance
Laughter of the dead
Confirms the irony of life
In the moonlight shadows
History remains suspended
When the winds die down
Sunlight emerges
Images become crystal
The past seems at peace

When you make the mistake,
there is no retake.
That is it.
You are now in the web.
The web of deception,
despair and distress.

Once you touch the gentle silky line,
which looks so fragile,
but yet so strong.
The spider of the web,
comes to wrap you up in the
silky, strong finish of the web.

Once you have been entrapped,
the spider uses you for its source.
Source of food, energy and love.
When the spider starts to use you,
that is when it begins to hurt.
Slowly and painfully the spider
sucks  everything out of you.

When you begin
to empty and love the hurt,
that's when it begins to burn.
The slow solemn burn,
in which you love to yearn,
becomes the only thing you live for.

When you begin to live for the burn,
that is when you learn,
that it's not the burn
that you choose to live for.
It's the yearning of being needed.

It's all a cycle,
but still no one knows
how to maintain the overflow,
of the feeling
of needing to be needed.
No one yet knows,
why it hurts so bad,
or yet, why it burns.