an old writer and his words

  • STOP THIEF

    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

  • SERVED COLD

    We had better hope that naturedoesn’t adopt that old adagethat revenge is a dish best served cold.Come to think of it, perhaps shehis toying with it now by her actionsgiven the climate changes we have wrought,And us always thinking nature wouldsomehow become subservient to us.But you can only defy the lawsof nature for so long,…

    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

  • CELESTIAL RHYTHM

    It was a certain rhythm that he loved,one he felt it in total silence, yet 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…

    Lou Faber

  • DEMANDED TIME

    I’ve made a practicewhich feels more like a demand,that each day I take a fewmoments or more and stopwhatever else I was, orshould have been, doingto write a poem. There are days, perhaps thisone where it seems morea short bit of prose to whichI have added line breaksdespite the protestof the words, condemning themto bear…

    Lou Faber

  • PATIENCE

    Even a cat knows when the screen is on Zoom, you sit and wait. Or stick your head in the picture so all can acknowledge your presence. Either works, and you know patience is not a virtue, but at times a necessity. You are a cat, after all. Patience is for dogs, poor beasts, having…

    Lou Faber

  • ON THE SEDGE

    My wife pauses by the placard in the nature preserve and tells me that what I have been calling grasses are in fact a sedge known as sawgrass. She points out the warning that it’s serrated on the edge and earned its name from those who grasped it without knowing or thinking first. I feign…

    Lou Faber