an old writer and his words

  • EMPTY SACKS WILL NEVER STAND UPRIGHT

    There are nightswhen the songof a single cricketcan pull you away from sleep.She says that she has heardthat not all Angels have wingsand neither of themis sure how you would knowif you met a bodhisattva.He searches the mailevery day, for a letterfrom unknown birth parentsbut none of the credit cardshe ought to carryoffers to rebate…

    Lou Faber

  • THE RIGHT WAY

    In a world besetby poverty and pandemic,global warming and hunger,there are a myriadof questons urgentlyrequiring answers. Among themis not the questionof the proper wayto eat with a fork,or more preciselyhow to hold itwhen bringing foodto the mouthfrom the plate. I was taught to holdit like a pen, buttilted so I lookeddown on the tinesbent in…

    Lou Faber

  • Advice to The Beginning Haikuist

    Now take up the penand write economicallylest you run out of First published in Defenestration, Vol. XVI issue 2 August 2019

    Lou Faber

  • LURKER

    It is there waiting, no doubtanother trap, simple initially seeming purebut harboring a malevolence that willsoon consume you, leave you broken,so considering the pen as a weapon,to lay waste to it, or for seppuku,both thoughts will no doubt come to mind. It has always been like this, always will,different if you chose the digital path,but…

    Lou Faber

  • GREATLY EXAGERATED

    Many now say the age of great literaturehas died, the mortal woiund inflictedby the advent of the self-correctingIBM Selecric typewriter, when wordsbcame evanescent, as suddenly goneas when they spilled onto the page. Others, I count myself among them,believe the wound was not fatal,deep certainly, but yet there remainsa faint pulse, ressuscitation possiblewith the application of…

    Lou Faber

  • WRITING MY STORY

    With the stroke of a pen,they enabled me to write the story,gave a framework on whichI could hang all mannerof dreams and assumptions,inviting a search I neverquite got around to making. I wandered the beachesof Estoril in my dreams,stalked the avenues of Lisbon,looking for a familiar face,but found only ghosts. With the stroke of a…

    Lou Faber

  • TOMORROW

    Many say that the end of the worldis upon us, that we will allbe replaced by electronics,but of that I have no fear,for electronics may claimto be smarter than we are,but if you’ve ever triedto interconnect or network them,you know that half of the timethey will fail miserablyand even in those rare caseswhere they work…

    Lou Faber

  • IN HIS IMAGE

    He said the assignment isan easy one for this class,write a piece, poem or story,your choice, but focused on a single metaphor. Oh,and to make it interesting,that metaphor should bethe last pet you owned orcurrently own, and if you’venever been blessed with a pet,use an ocelot or a lynx. How hard could it be, I thought,I…

    Lou Faber

  • OLD SCHOOL

    How much better off would we beif every poet and wanna be werecompelled to write using only paperand a quill pen dipped regularlyinto a small glass inkwell? You must wonder if we would seemore elegance, villanelles, sonnets,and the other forms now lying jumbledin the great literary waste bin. What would we discover if leftto our…

    Lou Faber

  • PAYING HOMAGE

    No one thinks it all that strangethat novels featuring James Bondappeared well after Ian Flemingagain made acquaintance with the soil. Nor are we shocked that Conan Doylehas seemingly taken up pen againand brought Holmes back to life,although many find those efforts regrettable. And yet when I take pen to paperand cast line upon line of…

    Lou Faber