6a0105371bb32c970b0120a5297f21970c-700wi

He could hear behind him the measured tread of the armed man, and after a while his breathing, but the man spoke no word. The sun was gaining and he could feel it a little of his back, and it felt good.

Posted by oblivion-s-home at 11:23 PM EDT
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Dogs wouldn't claim you as a son.

Posted by oblivion-s-home at 10:49 AM EDT
Updated: Saturday, May 21, 2011 11:44 AM EDT
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http://dl.toofiles.com/vaaoje/audios/ofthe.mp3

Posted by oblivion-s-home at 12:24 AM EDT
Updated: Wednesday, April 6, 2011 12:28 AM EDT
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I carried him in my arms; he didn't struggle or offer to strike me, and when I put him on the floor in front of the kitchen stove, he just rested quietly on his bell, held his neck erect, gave no sign of suffering fron any wound, and though he was motionless, his small black eyes seemed to be ever keenly watchful. His formidable bill, very sharp, three or three and a half inches long, and shaped like a pickaxe, was held perfectly level. But the wonder was that he did not struggle or make the slightest movement. We had a tortoise shell cat, who was so fond of lying under the stove in frosty weather that it was difficult to even poke him out with a broom; but when he saw and smelled that big fishy, black and white, speckled bird, the like of which he never seen before, he rushed wildly to the farthest corner of the kitchen, looked back cautiously and suspiciously, and began to make a study of the handsome but dangerous looking stranger. Becoming more and more curious and interested, he at length advanced a step or two for a nearer view and nearer smell; and as the wonderful bird kept absolutely motionless, he was encouraged to venture gradually nearer and nearer until within perhaps five or six feet of its breast. Then the wary loon prepared to defend himself by slowly, almost imperceptibly drawing back his long pickaxe bill, and without the slightest fuss or stir held it level and ready just over his tail. With that dangerous bill drawn so far back out of the way, the cat's confidence in the stranger's peaceful intentions seemed almost complete, and thus encouraged, he at last ventured forward with wondering, questioning eyes and quivering nostrils until he was only eighteen or twenty inches from the loon's smooth white breast. When the beautiful bird, apparently as peaceful and inoffensive as a flower, saw that his hairy yellow enemy had arrived at the right distance, the loon, who evidently was a fine judge of the reach of his spear, shot it forward quick as lightning-flash, in marvelous contrast to the wonderful slowness of the preparatory poising, backward motion. The aim was true to a hair-breadth. The cat was struck right in the center of his forehead, between the eyes. I thought his skull was cracked. Perhaps it was.

Posted by oblivion-s-home at 10:43 PM EDT
Updated: Saturday, May 21, 2011 11:44 AM EDT
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Posted by oblivion-s-home at 1:20 PM EST
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I found myself deep in a  forest until I came to a barrier of black iron. At  that barrier, unable  to pass, suddenly  my father descended from above in the form of a bird.  He gave to me  my new name, and allowed me to fly after him  over the barrier of iron.   As we proceeded, the bird, my father, changed  from black to white  - first his tail feathers, then all the rest. We  came then to a  river the colour of blood, in the midst of which was  a great snake of  three colours - blue, black and red. It closed its  gaping mouth to let us pass.   On the other side stood a crowd of people all in  white. As we passed  through they shouted words of recognition  until we arrived at  another river, of all white. This we crossed by  a giant chain of  gold. On the other side there were no trees, but only  a grassy mound.   Return or die. On the top of the hill was a round  house made entirely  of glass and built upon only a single post. Within, I saw a  man. The hair on his  head piled in the shape of a bishop's hat. He had a  star on his  breast, but as I grew closer, I saw it to be nothing but his  heart beating from inside his chest. We moved around him, and on the back of his  neck, a mark of a red cross. Just then I looked up and saw a woman in the moon -- a  bayonet  piercing her heart, from which a bright white fire  poured forth. It was then I felt the pain in my shoulder. My father told me I  had gone far enough. If I were to go any farther I would not  return.

Posted by oblivion-s-home at 5:10 PM EST
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I had a vision of my own death. One day you will put me on a the table and I will die, and you will all die, the rich and the poor. This is justice. And all those who have done me wrong will confront justice here.

Posted by oblivion-s-home at 12:09 PM EST
Updated: Tuesday, January 18, 2011 7:42 PM EST
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The burrow is a hole made in fine sand, or rather in a sort of dust at the bottom of a natural shelter. Its entrance-passage is very short, merely an inch or two, without a bend, and leads to a single, roomy, oval chamber.

Posted by oblivion-s-home at 3:23 PM EST
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It does not matter what is said and done
The eyes have it.
The mind's legislative faculty
Is unconcerned with appearances and words
Nothing is over and done with.
    Nothing.
Not even your malice.
Especially your malice.
So do not apologize to me.

I have walked stooped beneath your heart,
That cold blooded crown
That holds the glinting jewel
Of contradiction in your eyes.

I think that I shall gouge them
From your skull
And crush them in my fist

Give you a dog to see with
Give you eyes that pant and salivate,
Eyes that creep on all fours
Eyes that cringe at the sound of my voice;
    Lie to me then.

Tell me life is good to you
When all your memories distilled
Into the transformed image, the Idea,
Of a mechanical hand reaching
To dig out your eyes.
    Lie to me then.
    Lie to me then, Dog-eyes.
    Lie to me then.

Posted by oblivion-s-home at 11:07 PM EDT
Updated: Monday, February 21, 2011 1:22 PM EST
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I am thinking just now of nobody And all that nobody's done. For I've a passion for nobody That nobody else would own. I bear the name of nobody, For from nobody I sprung. And I sing the praise of nobody As nobody mine has done.

In life's young morning nobody To me was tender and dear And my cradle was rocked by nobody For nobody was ever near. I was petted and praised by nobody

And nobody brought me up. And when I was hungry nobody Gave me to drink and sup.

I went to school to nobody, And nobody taught me to read. I played in the streets with nobody And nobody ever gave heed. I recounted my tale to nobody For nobody was willing to hear, And my heart it clung to nobody And to nobody to shed a tear.

And when I grew older, nobody Gave me a helping turn. And by the good aid of nobody, I began my living to earn. And hence I courted nobody And said I'd nobody be, I asked to marry nobody And nobody married me.

Thus I trudged with nobody And nobody cheers my life. I have love for nobody Which nobody has for his wife. So here's a health to nobody For nobody's now in town, And I've a passion for nobody That nobody else would own.

Posted by oblivion-s-home at 10:22 PM EDT
Updated: Friday, April 22, 2011 10:49 AM EDT
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