an old writer and his words

  • THE SEA

    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

  • DO THEY CARE?

    I cannot begin to imagine what the birds that overtake our small wetland each evening must think of us. They must know we stare at them as they congregate in the last light of the departing sun. I do know they flaunt their freedom, moving through the sky at one moment gracefully, at another with…

    Lou Faber

  • TANKA, TANKA, HAIKU

    The dawn sky arrivesvelvet blue on my fingersand the gathered birdshear the cobalt song of dayin this our private heaven On this sapphire nightstars search for the missing moonthe blue sky of dawnis still deeply in hidingfrom night’s moment of glory Oceans remembera time before we arrivedtheir once deep blueness

    Lou Faber

  • IF ONLY

    Were we birds we wouldhave our talons dug so deeplyinto the soil, our wings unableto lift us into a waiting skyfrom our gravitation prison.The egrets peer down at usfrom a thousand hued blue skycloudless again this dayas a maleficent sun glaresdown on us as we slowlybake in the oven we createdby our malfeasant stewardshipof nature’s…

    Lou Faber

  • LABORING

    There are those few momentswhen they sit on the bermaround the Igloo jug trying to findthe shade from a spindly palm cut backto almost nothing, the sunetching the sky with a molten heatthat melts away the few cloudsfoolish enough to appear.One keeps an eye outfor the supervisor knowinglunch is hours off and there areno breaks…

    Lou Faber

  • FOUR HAIKU

    At night’s marginsdreams may ferry you acrossrivers of doubt Paper boatsfloat slowly down riversof deep felt hopes Paper lanternsslowly carry awayancestral spirits A thousand craneslift into a scarlet skyand chase the sun

    Lou Faber

  • PUEBLO CHRISTMAS

    The night is that bitter coldthat slices easily throughnylon and Polartec, makeschild’s play of fleece and denim.The small rooms glowin the dim radiance of propane lightsand heaters as the silveris carefully packed awayin plastic tool boxes.The pinyon wood is neatly stackedin forty pyres, some little tallerthan the white childrenclinging to their parents’ legs,some reaching twenty-five…

    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

  • UNFOLDING

    Wake into the morning’s lightunsure of how you arrived in this moment,of what this day may promise,of how it will unfurl before you, perhapslike a work of art of a dementedorigami unfolding randomly, everythingor nothing at all, no way of knowing.This could be a delusion, could bethe dregs of a dream that night left behind,could…

    Lou Faber

  • ZERO

    It begana cloudless skyand two dogs runningdown the nearly empty street.It begana sudden heaterupting everywhereblown forwardinto suddenly parched groundunable to look upat the great cloud risingIt begansweeping upwarda new suncasting the oldin a shroudof ancestors.It beganthe vomitinguncontrollablein wavesebbing, neverrecedingIt begantwisted hulksragged monumentsa screamtearing earsmembranes rupturedIt beganwith an ending First Published in Ionosphere, Vol. 1, Issue…

    Lou Faber