an old writer and his words

  • THE ANCIENTS

    Night and the ancients retreatto a dark corner of their celestial prisonfrom the promised arrivalof the yellow dwarf from whichthey know we demand a presence. We ignore the ancients now,ignore those who cast theminto their prison, ignorethe acts for which they werebanished, care only to name them,and they know that our recognitionis their only grasp…

    Lou Faber

  • BEGGAR’S TALE

    I speak clearly, conciselyin an ancient, long forgottentongue that none understand. I tell my tale, leaving outnothing, a summonerin a deaf world, whispering of coins, pulled froman empty pocket and castat your feet, soundless. I point to signs, letteredin my careful hand, withoutmeaning, cryptic to you You urge me to trustin your god even asyou…

    Lou Faber

  • PRISONER

    This morning, I am certainthe earth pulled me down more strongly,as though gravity needed to reassert itself,having lost someone in its gripto the virus, a common complaintas we stumble through still another year. I fought it off course, the birdsin the wetland at once admiringmy effort and laughing at what they knewwould ultimately be a…

    Lou Faber

  • IBIS SEEING YOU

    They pausein their foraging in the lawnto peer up at us,strange looking interlopers,but they are used to us by nowand return to the task at hand. We no longer find them strangethough we never quiteget used to the curvedsalmon colored beaks,and we do wonderwhy the ancient Egyptians held them sacred. It seems that theyhave never forgiventheir Egyptian ancestorsfrom affixingtheir head to…

    Lou Faber

  • A LESSON TO TEACH

    This is what I would tell my sons:“You came from an ancient people,a heritage of poetsand tailors, or thievesand blasphemers,of callous menand slaughtered children.I would give you these books,written by God, some have said,although I am doubtfulbut driven by Erato, without doubt.” This is what I would tell my sons:“I didn’t go to war —there were so many…

    Lou Faber

  • ON THE BEACH

    It washed up on the beach this morning,stopped right at my feet, as Istared down at it, examining it carefully.It message was clear at first, a taletoo hard to swallow, of creaturestossed about by a storm that no onesaw, from an age in which no onenow alive could have experienced.The message described a magic landof…

    Lou Faber