an old writer and his words

  • THE FATES HAVE IT

    It was a chance meeting they thoughtalthough the Fates knew otherwise.Theirs was a subtly planned world,leave no fingerprints, always havean alibi, better still never get caught. It was a short meeting, a briefconversation and an ill-meantpromise to stay in touch, numbersexchanged and as soon forgotten. He never imagined calling,nor did she, but he did calland…

    Lou Faber

  • STRING QUARTET

    The violinists’ laughter and tearsare flung from her flying bow,drip from his elbow,and wash over the stilled audience –we can taste the seaas we threaten to capsize. The viola is the older brothernow steadying, now caughtin the wave, ridingits dizzying course,dragging us in its wake. The cello is a torso, the cellista surgeon, her handsplucking…

    Lou Faber

  • WHEN

    We are told that we cannotlive in the past, that would bea senseless waste of the present. But we cannot live withoutthe past for then there would beno true present in which to live. So we are left to hover betweenthe past and its absence,knowing the present will soon be the past, there or gone,caught…

    Lou Faber