an old writer and his words

  • I WANT

    I want my poem to scream out so loudthat you will hear it even if you are notpaying attention or are busy with other thingsyou think are more important than poetry. Too often my poems just lie on the paper,or are dead pixels on a screen, whisperingwhat I wanted shouted, but I am so oftena…

    Lou Faber

  • SHEPHERDING

    Today I paused to considerhow odd it must be for thoseborn, bred and always livingin a city, say New York, andto sill be a lover of poetry.So many poets, from Keatsto Hirshfield will take youinto nature, bathe you in wordsbeneath a star lit sky, sit youin a meadow, breathing airthat has never known the exhaustof…

    Lou Faber

  • A FOOL’S BUSINESS

    At the end of a long day spenton the business end of poetry, andyes there is a business end but do notconfuse that with money for thathas nothing at all to do with poetry,I stare at the page knowing the wordsare going to be stubborn this day,will refuse to exit the pen, hidingin the darkness…

    Lou Faber

  • RULES

    W. Somerset Maugham suggestedthat there are three rules for writinga novel, but no one knows what they are.I suppose the same could be saidfor writing poetry, with a twistfor there are three rules for thisas well, but everyone knowsprecisely what they are not.Writers and poets must be rebels,writing what must be saidand damning the consequencesfor…

    Lou Faber

  • YOU OF COURSE, OR NOT

    Someone, at a reading, asked me“who do you write for?”I avoided the obvious answer,“You” since he was there lesthe say someone dragged him alongmost unwillingly and my readingconfirmed his initial reluctance.The honest answer is that I writefor those who might stumbleacross my words, might seethem online browsing, or comeacross them in a coffee shopwhere I…

    Lou Faber

  • SEEKING

    I always wanted to date a Bodhisattvabut despite my efforts I never did find one.I did come across a goddess quite by accidentand it is possible she could becomea Bodhisattva but she is too interestedin worldly affairs to make the gradeand she is certain she is at least two miracles short of sainthood.If she did…

    Lou Faber

  • NOT HERE

    There were those January nights whenwinter wrapped us in its chill, but withdrewits frequent blanket of clouds, and Iwould go outside peering throughthe fog of my breath and lookinto the sky at the aurora borealis,watching the electrons danceon a black scrim dotted with myriad stars.Years later and miles away I missthe occasional night shows for…

    Lou Faber

  • OUT FOR REVISION

    Someone, I cannot remember who, suggestedto me that I write the story of the world,not that the world needs another edition,but perhaps because it would occupy meand I’d stop sharing my poetry that so fewreally want to read and do so out of politeness.I thought about this and it is an intriguing project,for I would…

    Lou Faber

  • SONG OF THE UNIVERSE

    It was a certain rhythm that he lovedhe felt it in total silence, it fadedin the presence of sound, a doumbekof the soul he would describe it. He remembered how it was beforetheir one God rendered him and his kindmere mythological creatures fit onlyfor poetry and dusty library shelves. He would have his revenge some…

    Lou Faber

  • BEAR WITNESS

    Some like to say guns don’t killpeople, other people do.But no one I have ever heard ofhas been killed by a volume of poetry,although one man hit by a carcrossing the street without lookingdid have a small book, Howlby Allen Ginsberg, in his back pocket.How many have died by hateor anger this year alone, somenot…

    Lou Faber