an old writer and his words

  • 2:15

    At precisely 2:15 tomorrow afternoonsomething will happen somewhereand neither you nor I will be thereto see it, nor will we know that it happened.Neither of us can say for certainwhat we will be doing at that time,and perhaps where we will be thenThere is a kind of sadness in thisso many possibilities disappearingbefore they can…

    Lou Faber

  • THIS POEM

    This poem beginswith infinitepossibility First Published in the 2005 Scars Publications Poetry Wall Calendar

    Lou Faber

  • DON’T BLAME ME

    On the day after I diethere is a real possibilitythat the sun will refuseto rise, an appropriateeffort at mourningwhich would be appreciatedif I were only thereto not see it. So I will just take iton faith, and as for thoseof you who survive meI will apologize in advancefor your day of darkness,although we both knowyou…

    Lou Faber

  • IMAGINE

    I think it might have beena passionate love letterI wrote to you last weekbut never delivered although there is the remotepossibility it was justour grocery list, bothhave line breaks after all, but it does show whyI must remember to checkthe pockets of my jeansbefore I put them in the washer. So let’s agree that it…

    Lou Faber

  • MOBIUS STRIP

    You imagine tomorrow will arrive without warning or notice, and even though you are skeptical, you accept the possibility, and if it doesn’t arrive what are the odds you will miss it? If, as expected, it arrives, what the hell, it was supposed to do that so nothing is odd about it, and if not,…

    Lou Faber

  • MUSHOTOKU

    We spend far too much time clinging to what was as the flames fade, and far too little time feeding the fire and grasping what could be.

    Lou Faber

  • THIS POEM

    This poem begins with infinite possibility

    Lou Faber

  • TOPOLOGY

    Between this point and that lies a vast uncharted space noted on every cartographers chart. If you ask how this could be possible I reply it’s like listening to silence and hearing each sound deeply embedded in the one next to it, a glissando of what exactly? Uncertainty? That is the whole point in the…

    Lou Faber

  • DISCOVERY

    In a small storefront, in an older neighborhood of the city, I found it.  Sepia coated with a fine sheen of dust and neglect, it lay on the table amid a stack of others, as though a leaf of phyllo in a poorly made stack fresh from the oven.  I knew it as I looked…

    Lou Faber