an old writer and his words

  • SAID THE LITTLE MAN

    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

  • ON STAGE

    NOTE: My new book is here at last. It has been 16 years in the making, nine of which I have spent producing this blog. Since you have been following and reading my work which I appreciate, if you would like a copy Free of the Shadow for $10 (shipping included) rather than its list…

    Lou Faber

  • SHE WILL ARRIVE

    In this place and timeof year our hauntings comefrom the sea, she that usuallybewitches us can turn angryand unleash her spite and spittle,and she will not be sateduntil we all concede our impotence.She cares nothing for doors,goes through one and all thatimagine they stand in her way.We know she will come, not when,and in the…

    Lou Faber

  • HER REALM

    The child carefully packsthe sand into the red bucketand dreams of the castle sheis building, the one in whichshe can be the princess.Her parents know the tidewill soon carry her castle awayand with it her dream, but theydo not stop and wonder whylittle girls always dream of beingprincesses and never queens,for mothers of little girlsare…

    Lou Faber

  • FOUR HAIKU

    At night’s marginsdreams may ferry you acrossrivers of doubt Paper boatsfloat slowly down riversof deep felt hopes Paper lanternsslowly carry awayancestral spirits A thousand craneslift into a scarlet skyand chase the sun

    Lou Faber

  • A TROIS

    Each night I crawl under the sheetscurled against the woman I loveand beside me slips your ghost.For sixty years you were no morethan a fleeting dream faceless, nameless,an infrequent visitor to my galleryof hopes, desires, and wishes.You never had a face, did Ihave one you could remember beforeI was plucked from you too soon, youlurking…

    Lou Faber

  • IN MY MOTHER’S HOUSE

    In my mother’s housethe refrigerator was dottedby little plastic fruitand the phone numberof a plumber we had once used,my sisters latest drawingpresaging a careerin health service managementa shopping listand my brother’s report cardshowing exemplary effortbut a weakness in spellingand my upcoming appointmentat the orthodontist. In my housethe refrigerator is dottedwith little wordsfrom Shakespeareand Chaucerand those…

    Lou Faber

  • ELAINE

    It’s 12 degreesthe night airslices throughmy sweatermy teeth chatter.Standing in the lotfetching my cell phonefrom the glove boxmy breath congealsaround my facea cloud.I look upat the moonsnowflakes dancingon my forehead.Luna’s faceis shroudedby a cirrus veil,but her eyesare yoursher lips softcaressingcurl upwardsin a smileas yours.I tell herof my loveand she whispersher lovereflectivelyin the voiceI hearas I…

    Lou Faber

  • CELESTIAL AWE

    He says that there isa really good chance thatso much of astronomyis delusion, that allof astronomy is history.Go out in the countrywhere there are nostreetlights and lookat the sky and the multitudeof stars that you see.There are atlases listingthe name or numberof each of them butstop and realize howmany of them nowno longer exist as…

    Lou Faber

  • IT WILL WAIT

    I’ve finally given up the internal debateabout whether to turn the phone offduring the night, no longer worryingthat I would miss a critical call.I have lived more than long enoughto know that the only calls that comein the heart of the night are thoseannouncing a disaster, a crisis ormost often, recently, another death.I know now…

    Lou Faber