an old writer and his words

  • SAD MONOLOGUE

    It is a truly sad momentwhen you first come to realizethat the inner dialog you thoughtyou were having with your psychehas been little more than a monologue,the ramblings of the court jester,or worse, the fool, your psychehaving grown deaf to your complaints,your incessant worries, or worse still,the ever growing fears you bring uponboth of you,…

    Lou Faber

  • TOGETHER

    It is easy to say all of the wrong thingsto someone you imagine disabled,some obvious, some less so, butstop and consider if that personhas a partner, a lover, a spouse.What do you say to that personwho lives with the same disability,not wearing it but bearing itto a lesser degree nonetheless?As I lose my vision, my…

    Lou Faber

  • OR

    I can safely say I don’t miss the dayswhen they wheeled you into the operating room,smiling you assumed behind the masks,as you shift from gurney to table, your open gownflapping about like some wind driven flag.You would lie there staring up at the massive lightsthankfully were turned on, blinding you, watchedas they placed the mask…

    Lou Faber

  • REMEMBERING CHILDHOOD

    There isn’t much to write about,not much recalled, now brief glimpseslike aged photographs, black and whiteor color but so time faded they bleednow into sepia, fragments, his face herehers never appearing as if she, not satisfiedwith how she looked, purged my memory.It may be a factor of age, but there areother contemporaneous moments stillin clear…

    Lou Faber

  • ON AGING

    It is not the aging that is hard, he said. Aging is easy, you don’t have to do anything except keep breathing, eating and sleeping when you can. No, aging is not hard at all. What is hard, he added with a grimace, is looking in the mirror and realizing that your body has betrayed…

    Lou Faber

  • THIS IS NOT

    This is not the poemmy birth mother meant to writemeant to tuck in my blanketwhen I was handed overto the adoption agencymeant to follow methrough childhood, youth,adulthood, to be readon the day my sons were born.It would be a poemthat would be etcheddeeply into my psychethat would echo in my mindduring the quiet moments.She never…

    Lou Faber

  • WINDOWS

    The problem, she says,is that we think that windows are thereto look out of, to see the world outside.If you believe that, she adds, whydo half the windows on your houseoffer you a view of the house next door,or if you must live in New York Citythe windows of another apartmentor building, knowing they havethe…

    Lou Faber

  • KNOWING

    It is now a given that youwill always want to know morefor that is human nature, which isto say an intellectual greed.It is not a deadly sin, butit did get Adam and Evekicked out of Eden, sobe careful for what you ask.What you don’t consideris what you might do withthe information, the moreif you were…

    Lou Faber

  • FALLING APART

    In my minds eye, whichfortunately for it cannot hopeto see the mirror, I am sixteen.No, cancel that, at sixteen Iwas still chubby to be kind.So let’s make me 18, evenif I had almost no hair thanksto the U. S. Air Force, but Iwas as fit as I would ever be.No, that won’t work either,for I…

    Lou Faber

  • CAMERA OBSCURED

    People stand in awelooking at what Ansel Adams’camera saw on those magical days.I am an outlier, for althoughI am struck by the beautyHis photographs offer my eyes,the stark play of light and dark,how shadows define a world,that is not what I wishthat I could see, for I wantnothing more than to seewhat Ansel Adams sawwith…

    Lou Faber