an old writer and his words

  • 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

  • FLOATING, SOARING

    You see them circling in a sun drenched sky,graceful, soaring without expending energy.You know they are vultures, but that thoughtis momentarily lost as you imagine yourselfa wingman to any one of them, freeof the shackles that gravity imposes.One or two land nearby and you pausenow wondering what has died to drawtheir interest, these morticians of…

    Lou Faber

  • CATHARTIDAE

    They circle slowlyeach in its own tierof a near cloudless sky,their wings stillas if frozen, ridingthe breeze, dippingand rising, going nowhere,needing nowhere,riding, riding, lookingdown at the wetland,and circling, untilwith a shift in the breezethe vulture vortexshifts east, and youwatch them shrink,thankful that theyare simply outfor a flight, and notfinding a mealin the reedsand treeswhere allthe…

    Lou Faber