an old writer and his words

  • HE WHO LAUGHS LAST

    The moon was kind enoughto linger this morning,knowing that I wanteda photograph, and thatI needed sufficient ambientlight to allow meto fully capture her visage.Sometimes she rises earlyand shows her facebefore the sun retreats.I suppose it may justbe vanity on the moon’s part,showing off for her brightersibling, certain I will neverpause to photograph Sol.Tomorrow it will…

    Lou Faber

  • DEMANDED TIME

    I’ve made a practicewhich feels more like a demand,that each day I take a fewmoments or more and stopwhatever else I was, orshould have been, doingto write a poem. There are days, perhaps thisone where it seems morea short bit of prose to whichI have added line breaksdespite the protestof the words, condemning themto bear…

    Lou Faber

  • LUNA’S SONG

    Tonight, when the sunhas finally conceded the dayto its distant but ever larger kin,the moon will again singher ever waning songhoping we will joinin a chorus we haveso long forgotten,bound to the earthin body and in waxing thought. We will stop and listenperhaps, over the dinof the city, the traffic,the animals conversingwith the sky, our…

    Lou Faber

  • THE RITE

    It is coming, a littleover a week now and itwill arrive, always too soon,never ready despite knowingits precise arrival day and time. We will be ready, butonly after a scramble, for thatis how it must be, howit has always been. And again this year wewill be thankful, as all claimon this day, but why do…

    Lou Faber

  • AFTERLIFE

    In the farthest reachesof the afterlife, the old mengather each day, althoughday and night are meaninglessto them, just assignedfor purposes of the writer. The Buddha recites sutrashoping the others willbe in the moment with him,while Hillel smiles, standson one foot and dreamsof a lean pastrami on ryewith a slice of half sour. Christ muses on…

    Lou Faber

  • DAYS LIKE THIS

    Then there are the dayswhen I play the buffoon,the juggler whose ballscome crashing to the floorbringing tears to the crowdof joy or sorrow, I cannothope to tell, for this dayI can only flail about,the circus clown, and youhad best keep your distancelest I break you as well.

    Lou Faber

  • EIRE

    There are two principal problemswith Ireland, and I found bothto be utterly insurrmountable. Every town, even Galway Cityat any time of day or nightlooked like it should be a postcard. Add to that the horror that inevery pub I visited it was assumedthat if asked I would sing a song or, realizing I have no…

    Lou Faber

  • EASY, I SAID

    I had great plansfor the day, a simple project,easy install said the instructionsand an hour in, nothing working. Of course it was a weekendso I called for help andthe professional workedanother two hours beforeannouncing nothing doing. We concluded the productwas dead on arrival, as werethe plans I had madefor the bulk of thd day, but…

    Lou Faber

  • COSMOS

    As a child he decided,after watching Cosmos,that he wanted to be an astronomer. He was six, we boughta large telescope and I was assignedthe job of aiming itaccording to his directions. After a while he didhave a mment of panic, wonderingwhat he would doduring the day. That soon passedwhen he discovered the radio telescopeand time…

    Lou Faber

  • THE TIE’S LAMENT

    I still have the tieI wore to m grandmother’sfuneral, one I conducted,but the suit from that dayis long gone, and just as well,for it would be several sizestoo large for the present me. I’ve only worn the tie oncesince that rainy day in Marylandand then to a weddingto balance out the sadnesswith a bit of…

    Lou Faber