an old writer and his words

  • CASSIOPEIA

    You sit on your self-made throneand stare at the night skyas clouds gatherand dissipate beneath you.Do you even recallwhy you were cast out,condemned to your cell so vastyet infinitely confining?Does your body rememberthe touch of his handthe crude hunterwho set you aflamewith a white heatthat paled the sun of summer?What do you imagineas tongues of…

    Lou Faber

  • ENSO

    In the interstitial momentbetween birth and deatha universe comes into existence,something that never before existedand existed always, newand well-known, unseenand visible for eternity. Measure it wellfor it is incapable of measurement,and ends without warningand precisely on schedule.In the momentary breaththat marks the transit,we proceed nowhereand cannot return to where we began. Reprised from March 27,…

    Lou Faber

  • 33,000

    As 33,000 feet, you want the smoothness that experience tells you, the sky will once again deny. Strapped in, you contemplate cursing the gods of travel, but no, they are simply meeting your expectations. Getting this close to heaven was once, she says, a mystical and spiritual experience, but then we transcended all of that…

    Lou Faber

  • LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER

    My mother no longer speaks to me. It is not that she has been dead two years, that passage would hardly be an impediment for her. I would like to think she has nothing left to say, having said it all so many times in the past. Some say we will see each other again…

    Lou Faber

  • AUDIENS CAVE

    I just want you to know that the Old Man set me up, and I’ll admit that, cagey as I am, I never saw it coming. I mean I knew he was capable of anything, but he always adopted this holier than thou persona so why would I imagine He’d do this? And it wasn’t…

    Lou Faber

  • SOUL MUSIC

    The first time I heard Mozart, I swore I was in a biblical garden and I was content to sit and listen for eternity. The serpent came along, as they do in such gardens, as I recall, with the face of Beethoven, though now I am convinced it was just Mahler trying to pass. I…

    Lou Faber

  • A CALL

    The thing about it is it is so damn quiet I can hear myself think but I can’t think anymore. And I’ll tell you this box is so cold it just leaks air and water has seeped in. Somehow I expected more it isn’t at all what was promised and the stone is not set…

    Lou Faber

  • SLAINTE

    It is just that sort of summer day when the sparse clouds crawl ever more slowly across the city, peering down, as if wishing they could end their journey, knowing this won’t happen. On the fields of Falkirk and Culloden Moor stained with the blood of ancestors who, only now, claim me as one of…

    Lou Faber

  • ETERNITY OR A WEEK

    He only wants to live forever, or if not, at least until a week from Thursday. Important things always happen on Wednesdays, he is convinced. He has no logical reason for his belief, but it is his and he will not be shaken from it. “It is a matter of faith,” he says “and you…

    Lou Faber

  • FARE WELL

    She left this evening, slid away silently her goodbyes long ago said. She was a feather carried on a gentle breeze, refusing to land, until at last the earth reached up and reclaimed her, and she settled gently, her voyage over, our memories of her smile, her nod, her knowing winks, now fixed for eternity.

    Lou Faber