an old writer and his words

  • GROUND HOLD

    She sits in the middle seat of an oversold DC-9, Carhartt jacket and watch cap pulled tightly over her hair, a blond wisp slipping out the side. She cradles on her lap a tawny brown Stetson with a tooled leather and silver hat band. “It’s never goin’ in an overhead, my fiancee’d go up there…

    Lou Faber

  • NEVER IMAGINING

    The bridge was there finally, and with some trepidation she crossed it. She knew it led to a brave (hopefully) new world. She knew it would take time and a lot of work to acclimate herself to this alien land, but she also knew there could be no turning back, for the place she knew…

    Lou Faber

  • SEEKING

    I always wanted to date a Bodhisattvabut despite my efforts I never did find one.I did come across a goddess quite by accidentand it is possible she could becomea Bodhisattva but she is too interestedin worldly affairs to make the gradeand she is certain she is at least two miracles short of sainthood.If she did…

    Lou Faber

  • FRITTERED AWAY

    This will be a fraught year whenonly questions will aboundand answers will seek shelteraway from our endless dissection.But one question will be answeredand our fate may well hang in the balance,for this is yet another yearwhere we determine whetherthe truths are truly self-evident.For soon enough we will havea new government, whether it isa replay of…

    Lou Faber

  • THE PARK

    He was taking a shortcut across the park. He saw the clouds building, about to bring the long-promised rain. He wasn’t sure why he decided to walk home rather than take the bus as he usually did. He didn’t like to walk, but the doctor had told him he needed to exercise more, and he…

    Lou Faber

  • WANDERER

    I was too long an Israelite wandering in a desert searchingfor the promised identity, followingon faith and a belief that allwould eventually be revealed.I created images of you, of whoI thought you might be, hiddenfrom all, just a voice in my dreams.I was an Aaron, the loyal siblingnever questioning why I livedin their always slightly…

    Lou Faber

  • FOR A WORD

    Consider for a moment justhow different things might betoday, perhaps only in small ways,if one particular Mary hadnever been sainted, for thenthe asylum in London might wellhave had a different name, notSt. Mary’s of Bethlem for Bethlehem.If that had happened there wouldbe no bedlam in the world, tothe obvious frustration of politicianswho would have to…

    Lou Faber

  • A MOMENT

    A night of broken dreams,a day of trembling handsminutes of knocking kneeswearing a path into an alreadyaging and worn wooden deck.A moment of sight,a moment when time stoppedand words failed, paralyzedby fear, by beauty, by a smile.A meal prattling on, tryingto see signs, not knowing whatthose signs might be.Twenty-three years of a joyI hadn’t known…

    Lou Faber

  • SUZY

    What do you sayon the loss of a child?We sat in the loungedrinking a vile potionfrom a hollowed pineapple,giggling insanelyfor no reason.We wandered the tunnelsfaces painted,clowns in bedlam.We lay togetheron a mattresson the floor and listenedto Aqualungmy arms around youboth, but sleepcame slowly and we talkeduntil night ran fromthe encroaching sun. I can feel her…

    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