an old writer and his words

  • SONG OF THE UNIVERSE

    It was a certain rhythm that he lovedhe felt it in total silence, it fadedin the presence of sound, a doumbekof the soul he would describe it. He remembered how it was beforetheir one God rendered him and his kindmere mythological creatures fit onlyfor poetry and dusty library shelves. He would have his revenge some…

    Lou Faber

  • EMPTY PLATES

    The old gods have takenup residence is small casitason the edge of SaguaroNational Park outside Tucson. It isn’t Olympus, but theproperty taxes had becomeunsustainable with so fewbothering to offer tributes. They have gotten overtheir jealousy of the newgods living in the valley,with their European villas, yachts and getaways,for the old gods know wellhow it will…

    Lou Faber

  • YOU’RE OUT OF HERE

    The gods have ceasedto care about us, toobusy with other more importanttasks like fighting theirpending evictions fromOlympus and Asgard. And the demigods havenever given a damnabout us, always preeningand imagining theirelevation, so we are leftto muddle along and weknow how that has workedthrough history, so wehave turned away, anointedourselves, declared weare holy and built a…

    Lou Faber

  • ETHEREAL

    She appeared without notice,not there, then there, shehalf angel, half siren, half mad. She appeared like Casseopaiea’sfaint shadow taking form,stepping out of the sudden fog. She was nymphlike, sylphan,demanding attention, cravingthe eyes of all who passed. No one spoke to her, whetherout of fear or disinterest and shegrew angry, larger still, until the full moon…

    Lou Faber

  • A SEPTEMBER SKY

    Lie back, I said to her,just stare up that waystare into the skywithout any clear focus.Do you see him now,the hunter with his bowoutstretched, the beltcinched about his waistlocked in his eternal searchfor the prey that would free himfrom his nightly quest.And there, I pointedcan you see the great beargamboling with her childor there a…

    Lou Faber

  • THE ANCIENTS

    Night and the ancients retreatto a dark corner of their celestial prisonfrom the promised arrivalof the yellow dwarf from whichthey know we demand a presence. We ignore the ancients now,ignore those who cast theminto their prison, ignorethe acts for which they werebanished, care only to name them,and they know that our recognitionis their only grasp…

    Lou Faber

  • FORGOTTEN SOULS

    From the heart of the infernoDante and Lucifer grow boredwaiting, waiting for the ferrywhile Charon stops for lunchyet again at a Greek dinerin the heart of Hell’s Kitchen.They take up a game of catchtossing Molotov cocktails,raining fire onto the brimstone,setting the Styx ablaze.Each knows this is not necessary,for necessity is a creatureof heaven and there…

    Lou Faber

  • THE QUESTION

    Even long after he had lefthis childhood behind, or suchof it as he had actually had,he could still stare up intothe night sky, at ceiling of starswith more than a little awe. And even though he had leftchildhood behind, no onehad yet answered the onequestion his parents duckedtime and time again, oneso simple a child…

    Lou Faber

  • NAMELESS ONE

    It is truly unfair, sucks really,that proximity has cast meas nameless, yet I am forcedto wear all manner of termsthat fit their mood at anygiven moment, and even thenthey can’t seem to agree. You can say it is petty, but Iam jealous of Titan, and helleven Phobos and Deimoshave proper names, and theyare a misshapen,…

    Lou Faber

  • Santa Cruz Wharf, September

    The quieter you becomethe more you can hear.— Baba Ram Dass Orion lies over the wharfstaring at the moon, danglinglike an unyielding eye, barring sleepwhile below the waves washonto the shore, licking the pilingsand tasting the sand, a calming roarbroken only by the barkingof the harbor seals.It is not a night for huntingthe bear has…

    Lou Faber