an old writer and his words

  • THE FINAL SCENE

    For far too long he had beena marionette dancing to a tunehe could not hear, always staying silent,lost in a kabuki theater of the absurd.But he had grown tired of performingat their every demand, his life livedperpetually on call, no time truly his.He was drained by them, empty,not that they cared for they knewthe adulation…

    Lou Faber

  • OUT OF REACH

    The Middle East continues to melt downlike an out of control nuclear pileleaving destruction and crushed dreamsscattered about the vast sandscape.I imagine God watching from highup in the heavenly grandstandknowing that so many others are nothere to see the race, only to wait forwhat they hope is the inevitable crash.Once He liked looking on Jerusalemwatching…

    Lou Faber

  • HEART OF NIGHT

    The morphology of dreams is partially reliant on the whims of a single god, and Morpheus is, to say the least, a truly fickle bastard who dangles before us joy and nightmare each always just out of reach, but never out of sight or hearing. So we are left to grasp like marionettes operated by…

    Lou Faber