an old writer and his words

  • MICROSOFT THESAURUS

    birth beginning opening breach alienation estrangement enmity malice malevolence hatred repugnance hostility conflict battle combat assault onslaught aggression brutality savageness atrocity crime assault strike beat vanquish crush annihilate destroy murder homicide death

    Lou Faber

  • RAPTOR

    Bald eagle perches tree top winter barren gray and stares at stunted pines. Hawk, head tucked under massive wings reaching for distant stars rides a thermal coaster waiting for squirrels. Hills cry out raging against dawn tears flow puddling in footprints of a distant god.

    Lou Faber

  • MORNING SONG (AWDL GYWYDD)

    The sun creeps down city streets,  dew retreats from the grasses and fills the air, with sweet scent until spent, the bus passes. The robin sits in the tree as worms flee into the lawn. The morning foretells the rain that will slowly drain the dawn. The city quietly wakes and stretching, shakes off the…

    Lou Faber

  • GONE

    The salmon people don’t live here anymore you have moved them up the river, then inland so they no longer need to wander. The salmon do not swim here anymore you have dammed the rivers to draw out their power and penned the mighty fish where the river first licks the sea. The eagle doesn’t…

    Lou Faber

  • ART

    As you walk through this particular space will you see a small child perched on a stool, crayons in hand, a small rectangle of paper on the top of the desk laughing, creating a world you could never hope to understand, or an older woman, leaning on her walker, staring into the canvas, struggling to…

    Lou Faber

  • LILACS

    They appear at the margins, peeking out. They are teasing, revealing just a bit, alluring, but we know they are holding back. It is a delicacy at which we marvel for we know it is a matter of days before they end this dance, drop their veils. Even the faintest hint of their perfume is…

    Lou Faber

  • DISTANT SONG

    I thought I heard a woman singing somewhere in the distance, an ethereal song whose melody floated over me, dropping momentarily into my consciousness then as quickly flitting away. I walked off the carefully tended path stepped into the clutching brush, the smell of Juniper filled the air. Pushing through a thicket I thought I…

    Lou Faber

  • UNLOCKING

    There are two keys to it, really the first, and easier, is to make a well with your hands, that would need be not all that deep, just enough to hold your thoughts as you work. The second is to add just the right amount, too little and it is dry and doesn’t hold together,…

    Lou Faber

  • ROOMS

    I am reasonably certain, he said, that they are weaving a rug in the next room, a large one, I imagine, or at least a wall tapestry. It should be a medieval scene, dogs, a knight or gentleman, a child or two, and in the center a beautiful woman. Actually, if they are weaving it…

    Lou Faber

  • AN INKLING

    Writing is an art form that very many never see but the unseeing of the work is what elevates it to art. This is what you often hear from the unpublished, or even from the denizens of small press purgatory, the one the Vatican will never acknowledge, for the poets corner of heaven is so…

    Lou Faber