an old writer and his words

  • THE RIVER OF SADNESS

    I have written poems about my grandfathersand the lives I was told they led,having met none of them, but I knewI was appropriating their stories, claimingthem as my legacy although all I was doingwas adopting them, as their children hadadopted me, none of the stories truly mine,and I only family by the thinnest of tiesthat…

    Lou Faber

  • BREATHE DEEPLY

    Funerals can be such incredibly sadevents, and rightly so for farewellsare never easy, especially final ones.But the deceased doesn’t benefit,only the mourners do and it isfor them that the events are held.When my time comes, if my familychooses to have one, and I will haveno say in the matter so don’t ask,I do have a…

    Lou Faber

  • BASHO IN GALWAY

    Basho wanted to be in Kyotowhen he was in Kyotobut perhaps it was the cuckoothat led him to think thathe might be elsewhere, perhapsnot even in Japan althoughhe had never left Japan.I had the same feeling aboutIreland, except that thenI had never been in Ireland.I know, now, it was my genesthat wanted to be in…

    Lou Faber

  • STILL MOURNING

    I think about you often, lying besidemy grandparents on the hillsideoverlooking the Kanawha River,bathed in the utter silencethat only the dead can clearly hear.I think of you more often than shewho replaced you, she who laterreplaced me with her own, Ian adjacency, still useful butno longer fully or truly valued.I think of you lovingly, knowingfor…

    Lou Faber

  • THE ALCHEMISTS HAND

    He said that we are an amalgamof nature and nurture, and oftenthere is no real distinction between them.If only that were my case,I am bifurcated between whatI know what I imagine,lived and what I might have,what was imposedon me by otherssome of which others left me Ifor those they call their own.Blood may or may…

    Lou Faber

  • A MOMENT

    A night of broken dreams,a day of trembling handsminutes of knocking kneeswearing a path into an alreadyaging and worn wooden deck.A moment of sight,a moment when time stoppedand words failed, paralyzedby fear, by beauty, by a smile.A meal prattling on, tryingto see signs, not knowing whatthose signs might be.Twenty-three years of a joyI hadn’t known…

    Lou Faber

  • A GIFT

    As your birthday approaches, Mother,I should pause and thank youfor your bequest of grace, a gift youleft me on you passing ten years beforeI found you, found myself again.It was more than the helical part of methat finally became apparent, morethan a heritage imagined but unknown.It was something as simple asa college yearbook picture, for…

    Lou Faber

  • VISITORS

    As much as he needed sleephe had grown to dread itfor each night they visited him,always whispering, he strainingto hear if they had wisdom to offeror were simply there to mock,to plague him, as recompense for someimagined sin, some innocent mistakeor simply because eternity canfairly quickly become boring.He knows their number willonly grow over time…

    Lou Faber

  • INTO THE DARKNESS

    We live in an age when logic has failed and our days come with the darkness of night leaving all of our plans and dreams derailed. We imagined a world, fully detailed to leave our children, that was their birthright. We live in an age when logic has failed and the battles we fought, the…

    Lou Faber

  • AGAIN, REALLY?

    As you age, and I writefrom increasingly painful personal experience,life becomes ever more paradoxical.Things you once could easily do,wanted to do often, become difficultand some almost impossible(get your mind out of that gutter,I meant things like heavy liftingAnd home maintenance projects).And things you never thoughtyou would ever do becomethe stuff of daily life (just askyour…

    Lou Faber