an old writer and his words

  • HORIZON

    He was always lookingto the horizon, as if tomorrowwould provide some small hintof what was to come, knowingthe shadows of yesterday wouldalways be trailing behind him, hisalbatross of unfulfilled dreams.He knew it was a futile searchthat he was wasting his presentfor a future that would arrive on its terms,but compulsions were things hehad been powerless…

    Lou Faber

  • THE ROCKPILE

    I was still a child, or mostly so,when he took me to the gamenot because he liked football butbecause that was what fatherswere supposed to do, he had been told.It was freezing that day in the stadiumthey called the Rockpile althoughthere were no rocks, just a fewchunks of its concrete shellthat had fallen off the…

    Lou Faber

  • LISTS

    The list seems never ending. He carefully checks things off yet for each item that comes off it seems two or three are added. He knows he shouldn’t complain. He is not a complainer and he is one who completes tasks so if it is on the list he will take care of it and…

    Lou Faber

  • DECISIONS

    Sitting today trying to decidewhether to use seitan or tempehin tonight’s Singapore-ish noodlesI thought back to the afternoonswaiting patiently in line at the onceand then still gas station, the two bays“converted” to a seafood marketwith large tanks of lobster flown intri-weekly and frozen King crab legsand pointing as the attendant, the onewho used to change…

    Lou Faber

  • ALWAYS

    There were always morequestions than answers.There were always morewrongs than rights.There were always morehungry ones than food.There was always moreanger than compassion.There were always moredays of war than days of peace.There were always moreself-righteous than righteous.There were always morepeople than this planetneeded or could support.

    Lou Faber

  • DREAMING OF FLIGHT

    As a child I, like so many others,imagined we might have wingsand could take flight at will, unrestrainedby gravity or parents, a freedomboth denied us: for our own goodthe parents said, silently by gravity.We would look at the sky, the clouds,the birds cavorting without seeming careas we were called in for homework,piano practice, household chores.Now…

    Lou Faber

  • A QUIET CORNER

    He would see the older man most morningsat the small table in the coffee shopoverlooking the street, hunchedover his New York Times, oftenpen in hand on the crossword.The baristas all knew him, if not by name,saved the table for him be various meansuntil he arrived, when they wouldprepare his carrot muffin and cappuccino.He strained to…

    Lou Faber

  • A HAUNTING

    The ghosts that haunt my dreamsspeak in many languages, eachfamiliar, twisted deep inside me.I cannot answer for they do not listen,say they do not know me, know me well.I want to sit, to talk with each in turnbut I have no voice they can hearchoked off by cruel Morpheuswho only releases his grip oncethey have…

    Lou Faber

  • HAGAR’S SON

    Did you so fear being Hagarthat you deemed me Esau, stolemy birthright, my name, my pastand cast me off into a wilderness?I knew nothing of this, your secrettaken with you to the grave as you wished.Did you consider that I might beIshmael, never knowing my father,adopted into a culture that wouldnever be mine, a child…

    Lou Faber

  • WORD LESS

    Words that cannot be saidmust resonate, reverberatelike bumper car thoughts, caromingin the recesses of the mind,pinballing off psychic bumpers, threateningto tear free, erupt like lava repressed,ready for freedom, ready to cedethe anger so long held captiveeating away from the inside, nevercertain of the consequencesof that release from its prison.Words will not be said today,fear maintains…

    Lou Faber