an old writer and his words

  • STOIC

    He will do it again tomorrow as he did yesterday and each day before that for as long as he can remember. He would like not to have to do it, but he knows he must, just as he knows the outcome will be almost the same, just the slightest of changes imperceptible from day…

    Lou Faber

  • STRING QUARTET

    The violinists’ laughter and tearsare flung from her flying bow,drip from his elbow,and wash over the stilled audience –we can taste the seaas we threaten to capsize. The viola is the older brothernow steadying, now caughtin the wave, ridingits dizzying course,dragging us in its wake. The cello is a torso, the cellista surgeon, her handsplucking…

    Lou Faber

  • LIONEL HAMPTON AND THE GOLDEN MEN OF JAZZ

    Blue Note, pardonour constructionblack paintedplasterboarda hangingair conditioning duct. Grady Tatesneering at the skinsgrowling at a high hathands shiftingdeftly reaching inpicking a beatand sliding itover the crowd. Jimmy Woodeblind to the lightsslides his fingersover stringsand talks to the bassresting on his shoulder.It sings backbegging , pleadingdemanding as his headsways with an inner vision. Junior Mancesways slowly…

    Lou Faber