an old writer and his words

  • THE FINAL SCENE

    For far too long he had beena marionette dancing to a tunehe could not hear, always staying silent,lost in a kabuki theater of the absurd.But he had grown tired of performingat their every demand, his life livedperpetually on call, no time truly his.He was drained by them, empty,not that they cared for they knewthe adulation…

    Lou Faber

  • FOR ME OR THEE

    Do not ask me why I write poetrynor for whom I write poems.You will not be pleased by the answer.You assume I have an audience in mindwhen I pick up the pen and put it to paper.That would be a false assumptionfor only the occasional poet writeswith a specific audience in mind.The rest of us…

    Lou Faber

  • A READING

    He walks up to the podiumsmiling at the introduction he wrotedelivered by someone who likelyhad never read his work, and set his bookand notes down on the lectern.As he begins to read he cannot let onthat he is a magician poet for theywould demand a trick and allthat he is prepared to do this nightis…

    Lou Faber

  • FOR THE BIRTHDAY BOY

    On April 23 of this coming year,Wiliam Shakespeare will celebratehis 450th birthday, a momentous occasionto be certain, but knowing how cantankeroushe can be the odds of him showing upat the party I want to throw for him areabout as slim as the odds of Bob Dylanever sitting down on the edge of the stagewherever he…

    Lou Faber

  • TRIO

    I always wondered if the pianisthunched over his keyboard in the frontof the small club, reinventing a melodywe all thought we knew, the bassistsharing the stage providing support,stopped to note the lyrics offered upby the people in the audience as hecontinued to play, and if so, did henote them for future referenceor did he simply…

    Lou Faber

  • A THOUSAND

    There is a far less obviousbut very important reasonto be a poet, a bit less so, but stilla good reason to write prose.Perhaps you will say that myreason is wholly and solelyaudience specific, and youwould be at least partially right,for if, like me, you are inthe process of losing your sight,or have already done so,…

    Lou Faber

  • NEXT UP

    Back in the day,that day being the last timeI attended an open mic,odd since most are intimate enoughthat no microphone is provided,I stood at the lecternand looked carefully at the audiencethat was mine for the next few minutes.I wanted to see their responseto me, my clothing choicesand then my words, trying to readthe indecipherable map…

    Lou Faber

  • AUTHORSHIP

    If birds could write, which birdwould write like which author.The Osprey would clearly be Hemingwayknowing the sea, but with no need for an old man.The common Gallinule might becomeBilly Collins, an easy laugh and always entertaining.The crows could be so many writersattending workshops, all still lookingfor a voice to express themselves withoutcausing their audience to…

    Lou Faber

  • THEATER OF THE ABSURD

    If Aristophanes were suddenlyto arrive here, he would no doubtpause, but with the eye he had,would soon discover such a treasuretrove of material, he could producecomedies to last several lifetimes. The problem would be in findingthe right audience, for here we havelittle taste and patience for the sortof comedy at which he was so adept,and…

    Lou Faber

  • A SIMPLE TASK

    You misunderstand me, he said,I did not ask you to write a poemabout a flower, anyone can do that,I asked you to write a poem with a flower. Do not ask me what the poemwill be about, ask the flower, butfirst you must learn to speakthe language of the flowers. If you find this difficult,…

    Lou Faber