an old writer and his words

  • WHAT ONCE WAS

    It will never again be the same,the world we knew has grownashen, washed of color, our visionmonochromatic, our ears deaf.We have engineered this in our blindness,unable to see the corrosion wehave loosed, we are Pandora, welet free the lid of the box, our greedmet by the ghosts of those wehave condemned, those yetto be born,…

    Lou Faber

  • VULCAN’S FLAMES

    The ark of hope had sailedalmost empty, their realitywas free falling, their dreamsconsumed in the furnaceof their greed, their arrogance.Time was hanging suspended,they were grasping at the handsof the clock perched now inover the growing abyss.Once they had been gods, orimagined themselves so, nowthey were fuel for Vulcan’s flames.Once they were prophetsof an unbounded, unbridled…

    Lou Faber

  • FRUITFUL

    The world, I am willing to bet,would be a far different placeif couples fully knew what to expectbefore deciding to have theirfirst child, but hope springseternal so why not try and get it rightthe second or third time around?You have to wonder how manytwo-or-more child families there would beif parents were required to waitat least…

    Lou Faber

  • EXTINCTION

    The days are shorteningas they should, going forwardon their slow march from equilibrium.The birds arrive and leaveas they should, caring nothingfor clocks or calendars, merelyreading the sky and weather.They know their worldis changing, hotter daysand nights and the stormsthey must outfly growingever stronger, more dangerous.They know that we are the cause,our greed, our arrogance,and they…

    Lou Faber

  • A TIME ONCE

    There was a time when wewould go to the desert or shore.Now the desert comes to usand we know the oceanwill arrive not far behind it.We learned to shape our world,mold it to our desires, perceived wants.The world has grown weary of ustinkerers never satisfied, moreour watchword, enough forgotten.Now it demands that weacceed t o…

    Lou Faber

  • SO, JEAN-JACQUES

    I suppose, with some effort,I, too, could become oneof Rousseau’s savage menbut I have to ask myself if thatis a path that I would choose to walk.It isn’t the walking that give me pause,for that, as Rousseau said,enables contemplation and notmere thoughts flitting about,and is a means of meditationin my frantically moving world.And it isn’t…

    Lou Faber

  • A BRAVE NEW WORLD

    It is now easy to imagine a worldwhere dystopia lies in waitingaround every corner, always outof sight, always ready to pounce.Now imagine a world, this worldif in 1492 it was a woman whodiscovered this land, and womenwho made all of the decisions.Men could still go to war, but onlyif women decided the war was warranted.It…

    Lou Faber

  • PAUSE

    This morning a lone snowy egretperched stoically atop the leafless treerising out of the small preserve.Of what was it a harbinger, whatmessage was I needing, failing to hear?Was it in search of a dove amid endlessnews of wars still raging on,or was it repeating the unheard warningof what we had wrought in its onceedenic world,…

    Lou Faber

  • MOTHER TONGUE

    The English language is a joyif you have a truly twistedsense of normalcy, and the wordfashion can easily be its role model.As verb you fashion something,make, construct with an implicationof personal physical activity,an active verb after all.As a noun it is all a quitedifferent world, a world of clothing,of style and, properly, the prevailingstyle of…

    Lou Faber

  • ACTION

    The question is, he saidwhat we intend to do about itwhen it happens, as it inevitably will. He got no response, had notexpected any response despitethe critical nature of the question. He knew no one wantedto talk about it, nor even to thinkabout its onrushing consequences. But it was the world that hewould inherit from…

    Lou Faber