an old writer and his words

  • RUSHING IN

    Step right up, don’t hang back,come and watch the fool perform for you.You know me, bedecked in motley emotionsworn like so many colorful rags,a suit of too many shades and hues,all displayed for your entertainment.See if you can find ten shades of angeras I prance around in front of you.Count the five flavors of tearsthat…

    Lou Faber

  • AFTER ALL

    After all that has happened,after all of the changestumbling one upon another,after breathing again new air,after ceding fear to hopewhen I sit down to write itall I have at the endis a small glass of snowin the middle of July.

    Lou Faber

  • ON THE TENTH PLAGUE

    Mark your doorpost with the bloodof the lamb for this may be the nightwhen God’s emissary arrives for the killingof the first born. Will he be a night birdhalf raven, half vulture or an aged manconcealing his weapon in shabby robes. Mark your doorpost and check itoften for if your neighbor wipesthe blood away, you…

    Lou Faber

  • HARLAN

    You came, Harlan, to Rochestersomewhere in an endless winter,“Ellison in Tundraland” you said.We all chuckled approvingly. You said a short prayerclimbing into the rusting Opel,sliding on the edgeof oblivion, andthe approaching snowplow. You stood, hoarse, smellingof Borkum Riff and English Leather,a tweed jacket over a polo shirtand thinning jeansand told us of the insanityof television,…

    Lou Faber

  • PLAYERS

    Last night the actorstrod the boardscarrying us on their backs.This wasn’t Pittsburghbut we believed it so.We’ve never been to the Hillbut we walked its blighted streets.In the mirror we are white,but not last evening.He is five years deadbut last nightAugust Wilson escorted usto a placewe had never imagined,and we were alltoo glad to visit.

    Lou Faber

  • AUDITIONS DAILY

    It should be easy, my friend said,to imagine yourself a characterin a novel you particularly like,like I’ve found myself in any numberof Tom Clancy novels, since I caneasily become a CIA agent, it fits me. I know I’d shoot myself in the footor worse, and I’d keep no secretsif you even threatened to torture me,and…

    Lou Faber

  • UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL

    It was a plain white envelopequite large, laying in the mailbox,a name and return address,nothing out of the ordinaryuntil I realized there were nostamps, just a marking,Postage PaidMelbourneVic. Inside was a magazineand within two poemswith which I was familiarbut which were nowbeing read on the oppositeside of the globe and Ihad to wonder whatthe Aussies…

    Lou Faber

  • IN A CORNER

    First of all, Jack, you were sent to the corner for a reason. That pie was for everyone, not just you, we have told you endlessly about how wrong selfishness is. You won’t listen. And how many times do we have to tell you to use a fork or a spoon. Not only did you…

    Lou Faber

  • LANGUAGE

    The Hawaiian language has 12 letterswhich is important to understandparticularly if you consider writingan apostrophic poem, not to a personor thing, but to a letter of the alphabet. It might help to explain why Hawaiianpoets never write about zoology orthe role that zygotes play in life, andleave zymurgy to the haoles, fornative Hawaiians prefer a…

    Lou Faber

  • THE POEM

    The poem, all too often,suffers from a solitariness thatborders on despair, alonein a world that otherwise offersno peace or quiet contemplaton. The poem does not wish this,it prefers to be the centerof attention in the midstof all that is happeningat any given moment. The poem never expectedto have to struggle so muchfor even the smallest…

    Lou Faber