an old writer and his words

  • SAID THE LITTLE MAN

    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

  • I WANT

    I want my poem to scream out so loudthat you will hear it even if you are notpaying attention or are busy with other thingsyou think are more important than poetry. Too often my poems just lie on the paper,or are dead pixels on a screen, whisperingwhat I wanted shouted, but I am so oftena…

    Lou Faber

  • THAT VOICE

    It is often little more thana faint whisper, distant, butnagging, on occasion in the voiceof a parent now long dead.You can strive to ignore it,may have momentary successin that endeavor, but it willrecur when you think that ithas finally been banished.It is persistent and that, morethan anything, is what makes itso irritating for you know…

    Lou Faber

  • UNSCRIPTED

    I am so tired of readinglines written for me by othersalways a cold readinglacking emotion and substance.I have my own voice, readyto deliver my soliloquy.I have been livingfor seven decades.But I know that Iwill be seen as yetanother Yorickushered off the stage.And I imaging myselfremembered by someone youngerwho will recall no morethan a passing memory.

    Lou Faber

  • ACROSS A BORDER

    I can only begin to imagine, vicariously,what it is like to cross the borderinto the land of deafness, hear all you knewfade and garble, need vision to seewhat a speaker is saying, wonder whysongs you thought you knew nowhave lyrics you do not recognize at all.My wife is on this journey and nowhas a cochlear…

    Lou Faber

  • ON ARRIVAL

    When I arrived it was as thoughyou had expected me, althoughneither of us had anticipated meeting.You wondered if we had metin some former life, but I wasthen a skeptic for circumstancehad never really conspiredto cause me to cede my tightgrip on what I was certainwas the only possible reality.When that evening endedmy flotilla of certainties…

    Lou Faber

  • A PLEASURE

    The phone rang as I stepped from the shower. Soon dry, I listened to the voice of my neighbor saying a long slithery snake was crawling up my gutter’s downspout. This I had to see and I did, phone camera in hand. He was about four feet long, kinked and moving slowly. He studied me,…

    Lou Faber

  • WANDERER

    I was too long an Israelite wandering in a desert searchingfor the promised identity, followingon faith and a belief that allwould eventually be revealed.I created images of you, of whoI thought you might be, hiddenfrom all, just a voice in my dreams.I was an Aaron, the loyal siblingnever questioning why I livedin their always slightly…

    Lou Faber

  • SILENCE?

    You smile when you saythat my voice is muffled,that you cannot understand whatI am trying so hard to tell you.You have taken my tongue, the priceperhaps for saying what youmost do not want to hear.So you may laugh at me, atmy attempts to speak, but youwill never silence me for I canyell, I can write…

    Lou Faber

  • THE OTHER WORLD

    He pendulated between two worlds,always on the fine edge of transition.Night brought amniotic dreamsthat washed away the digital bondsthe day had fashioned from his thoughts.Here was a freedom that reality detested.Here there were no walls, only open doorsand he could freely wander his psychewithout impediments, without that voicethat was always perched on the razor’sedge of…

    Lou Faber