an old writer and his words

  • THE NEW GODS

    From their two-bedroom apartmenton the outer edge of Cupertino,the Gods evicted from Olympusare creating their pulsating metahell.They know how easily we, lemmingsenchanted by the sparkling void,offer ourselves up in sacrifice, alwayswanting still another gigabyte,entranced by the idea of the Deusex machina, blind to our own truth.They promise us eternity, a heavenof a parallel binary universe,redemption…

    Lou Faber

  • PRAVDA

    If I was in Russia Iwould have no problemfinding a title for this poemfor it would be The Last. I would write that I mournthe children, men, and womensacrificed to assuage hiswarped need for domination. I would write that I detesthis disregard of truth,supplanting it with his liesto justify his megalomania. I would write that…

    Lou Faber

  • VICTOR

    In our timeof never-ending war,punctured by the briefestlulls we now call peace,someone, someonesmore likely, will talkabout whom will bethe victor, to whomshall go the spoils.Bierce, that perpetualcynic, reminded usthat peace was a periodof cheating betweentwo periods of fighting.But no one pausesto consider thatin any war there areno true victorsonly the victimsunwillingly offered upin sacrifice to…

    Lou Faber

  • SNAKE, PRAY FOR US

    In a time set aside for mourningwe easily remember those, lovedor despised, taken by age, disease,war or poverty and neglect. But trapped in our isolationwe should also pause and recallthe snake, condemned for offeringknowledge for which we were ill-equipped. Let us not forget the ram,whose only sin was to bein the wrong place at the…

    Lou Faber

  • HISTORY

    Deep in the valley of memoryon the altar of Areswe sacrifice them, always youngeach generation we areAbraham unrestrained,the pardon always moments late.We are Olmecs, relying noton the sun’s passagebut on a mainspring tightly wound.Our gods hunger and mustbe sated lest we lose favorand their image change. In our boneyardpriests and victimsslowly decomposefade into earthwashed deepby…

    Lou Faber

  • A SUDDEN DEPARTURE

    You sneaked away one night. You were there, but while sleep claimed me, you were gone without notice or warning. Where should I look for you? In these barren hills where the spirits of the first nations roam, looking for their ancestral land? Where should I look for you? Wandering these verdant fields where a…

    Lou Faber

  • BROKEN BOW

    This poem was recently published in the first issue of a new journal, Punt Volat.  You can find it here: https://puntvolatlit.com/issues/winter-2019 Early this afternoon, a Kenworth semi pulling a 53-foot trailer rolled down Nebraska route 92 and entered the limits of Broken Bow. The importance of this event, while not yet obvious, will, I promise,…

    Lou Faber

  • NOUS SOMMES ICI

    The question, of course, is which is Frankenstein, which his monster a chicken and egg problem that invites debate, denies solution. They say, of course, it is you – We sent you Lafayette, never assuming quelle catastrophe would grow from our gift. Freedom doesn’t make you a God but somehow you never learned that too…

    Lou Faber

  • AKEDA

    My father never walked me up a hill, never asked two servants to wait below, never bid me be strong, never asked me to have faith in the Lord, never raised the blade only to see a ram in a thicket. My father never did any of these things and so I have no special…

    Lou Faber