an old writer and his words

  • SOS

    We marched for hours, goingnowhere really, but nowhere wasthe point of the marching so weachieved the goal the Air Force set.We didn’t even think it oddthat they made us shave our heads,so we’d all look like fools,there was a war on and wewere in the military, so wehad already proven that point.We were the smarter…

    Lou Faber

  • FOUR WETLAND HAIKU

    Apple Snail shellbleached by the sun, emptyhappy Snail Kite Great Egret sitting stillwaiting, simply waitingthen flying off Red-shouldered hawkstaring into the distanceendless patience Pig frog croakingbut the moon will not answerwe fall asleep

    Lou Faber

  • ODE TO PATIENCE

    The jetty is replete todaywith tourists, pale as the sunbleached concrete, stoppingto gawk at the fishermenwho ignore them intenton watching the sadly still line. The pelicans sit on the rocksgrooming and posing, talkingloudly on occasion beforespreading wings and flying off.Out on the jetty a pelican waitspatiently for the fishermanto pack up for the day, knowinghe…

    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

  • FLIGHT

    We imagine that they aredisappearing into the cloudsonly to reemergein a different place. Nothing could be furtherfrom the truth for they,these raptors flyingon monstroius wings,are shredding the cloudsripping free their fruit,eating of the sweetestparts, letting the restfall down on usas we scurry awayafraid of being soakedin their remnants.

    Lou Faber

  • GROUNDED

    it was so much easier when I could stillimagine myself a bird, untetheredand free to take flight on a whim. In dreams I often flew, no Icarusbut a raptor, peering down, seeingwith a clarity the earth denied me. Now my roots have taken holdin the enmeshing soil plunged deepand spread tendrils anchoring me, and even…

    Lou Faber

  • OVER UNDER SIDEWAYS DOWN

    He is fond of saying that it is “water under the dam,” and she constantly calls him on it, reminding him that water goes over the dam. He smiles when she does this and reminds her that it isn’t a dam if water is going over it, and it is mindless to say its water…

    Lou Faber

  • ALOFT

    As a child I often flew kites, which is to say that I ran haphazardly pulling a string and dragging a wood frames paper rhombus across the park. My father laughed until seeing me on the edge of tears he took up the string and dragged the kite across the park. One day a strong…

    Lou Faber

  • FLORIDA, JANUARY (2 HAIKU & A TANKA)

    In southern winter odd-shaped and ungainly birds fly in gracefully. The egret peers in and we peer right back at him Florida morning. Alligator lies still in the afternoon sun ignoring the birds and just imagines himself lying in the mid-day sun.

    Lou Faber

  • HELL, FAR LEFT CORNER

    I suspect that I am not alone in wondering if there is a corner of literary hell set aside for those who foist clichés on the world and at the head of that table should sit the fellow who first said “time marches on.” Even Einstein realized that time is relative, and as one who…

    Lou Faber