an old writer and his words

  • FRUITFUL

    The world, I am willing to bet,would be a far different placeif couples fully knew what to expectbefore deciding to have theirfirst child, but hope springseternal so why not try and get it rightthe second or third time around?You have to wonder how manytwo-or-more child families there would beif parents were required to waitat least…

    Lou Faber

  • PLACE NAME HERE

    Among all of the so-called artswriting does stand alone.How often have you seen arthanging on gallery wallsand look at the card next to itto see what the work is calledand find that all too uniquitous title,UNTITLED, as if the artist’s powerof language escaped into his brushes.And let’s not talk about composer’swhose work is later numberedand…

    Lou Faber

  • STOP THAT

    We love nothing more than to anthropomorphize. It is one of our defining characteristics. We cannot avoid it even if we try. We never try. It makes our lives simpler since we can relate more easily to people than to animals or things. And after all, we did make God in our image, or is…

    Lou Faber

  • BACKROADS

    When you drive on back roadsyou develop a differentsense of direction, of place.You know you’re in the Southby the trees, Spanish mosshanging like heavy rainand stealing the leavesof smaller trees, andall manner of thingshanging from or affixedbetween trees, a tire swing,something passing for a hammockand endless clotheslinesannouncing that herethe seasons are measuredby rainfall and temperaturesthat…

    Lou Faber

  • TODAI-JI

    On the steps of the Templethe unexpected morning snowwhich cast a threadbare blanketover the gates and lanternsrecedes slowly like a supplicantwhose prayers have been offered.The candle flames shiverin the strong February windwhile the Buddha sits, implacable.In the park below a dragon kitetakes the wind and swoops and dartshigher and higher, staring downat the Temple and…

    Lou Faber

  • IF ONLY I COULD

    I keep thinking about the songI would’ve writtenif only I had learnedto play guitar instead of piano.It is just that a melodyon a piano, for me at least,would always have leaned classicaland I truly hated Schubert’s leiderso I never even thought of trying.Still, even with my limited voiceI could’ve been Leonard Cohensave his time as…

    Lou Faber

  • HEY, HUMANS

    The birds huddle lowin the brush of the wetlanddelaying their morning departure.You caused this, theywant to say but cannot,knowing we are linguistically challenged.What they mean is that wehave robbed themof so much of their habitat,carving out small areasas a balm for our souls,or that this shockingly coldmorning, they know, isa product of human activity,as much…

    Lou Faber

  • LUNA WAITS

    Awake in the middle of the nightat an undetermined hour,the analog clock invisiblein the darkened bedroom,I glanced out between the slatsof the window shade and watchthe waning moon play hideand seek with clouds that promiseneeded rain and then decidedwe weren’t worthy of their effort.Mars sat nearby doing nothing,that itself a commentary of sorts.I crawled back…

    Lou Faber

  • BEARING FRUIT

    Tomorrow it will be timewith the two mangoes in the fruit bowlto make the ultimate sacrifice.Some say they were born to the taskand perhaps so, but the treefrom which they were torn saidit was not yet their time, that shewould have released them in due coursebut our impatience demanded otherwise.I will take my two knives,…

    Lou Faber

  • RECONSTRUCTIONS

    Night descended on herlike an elevator untethered,her memories in freefall into darkness.She could not forget the storiesthe elder ones quietly told,the numbers always clothed over,their smiles forced or freely given,depending on the directionof the ever-present winds of emotion.She knew she was a prisoner of her past,her inheritance both joys and horrorsinterwoven into the fabric of…

    Lou Faber