an old writer and his words

  • NO I WILL NOT

    NOTE: TODAY’S POST FOLLOWS BELOW: Dear poetry-lovers,           Thank you from the bottom of my heart for following my blog. Some of you have been daily readers since it began 9 years ago, some are more sporadic or more recent followers.  Thank you one and all. As you can imagine, it takes a fair amount…

    Lou Faber

  • A LITTLE DRUMMER

    It seems less than fair that as a childI was Jewish to the core, adopted, yes,but certainly fully Jewish and not merelyby maternal lineage which would suffice. Christmas was alien to me then, evenwhen I left Judaism behind, a shadowthat would follow me closely intomy Buddhist practice and life. But DNA made a liar of…

    Lou Faber

  • WE ARE THE PEOPLE

    We are the people, Who heard the glass breakingthat night as we huddled at home, Who inhaled the smokeof the Holy books as they burned, Who tried to flee but hadnowhere to go, always turned away, Who visited cosmetic doctorsto reshape our noses to look like the others Who adopted names to helperase a potentially…

    Lou Faber

  • ANYWHERE BUT

    I was twelve at the time, would havechosen to be anywhere but there.I hated visiting her at home, but thistook my disgust to a whole new level.We were never close, never would be,she so old, so old world, so unlikeanyone I had known, so like the womensitting outside the old hotels on South Beachwaiting for…

    Lou Faber

  • ER

    They are arranged like so much ill-stacked cordwood, pressed against walls that are indifferent to their presence. They watch the double doors leading to the examining rooms with trepidation, wanting to be next, wanting more not to be here at all, knowing that the options are none or fewer. He isn’t bothered by it all,…

    Lou Faber