an old writer and his words

  • FINITO

    He always wondered how the story would end. He was tempted to read the last page of every novel he picked up but he realized that he would have a shelf full of books in no time at all, because once he knew the ending he wouldn’t, couldn’t bother to read the rest. He became…

    Lou Faber

  • THE SUTRAS OF COMPLETE AWAKENING

    When you sit on the cushiondo not open the doorto outside thoughts.If outside thoughts come indo not think of waysto make them departfor those effortsare outside thoughts.Just sit and the thoughtswill get bored and leave,just as they arrived. A reflection on case 45 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • IN DREAMS

    In my youth so many of my dreamsseemed full length novels, on occasionsome were serialized over several nights.That did not last of course andas I aged medicine stepped into keep my pressure in checkand the magical diuretics decidedI could get by with dream novellas,which were certainly preferableto the other option, fabula interrumpirBut I continued to…

    Lou Faber

  • ON WRITING

    Someone once advised methat I should always writewhat I know, for that givesthe work an honesty that isessential to its believability. I should add that he said itknowing I was a poet,and not to cause me to give upany dreams of fictionI might still have harbored. But as I age, I find thatI seem to…

    Lou Faber

  • IMAGINE THAT

    There is a certain joy in writing fiction,for many readers will assume the protagonistis the author or at least partially basedon the author, never pausing to considerthat the villains and lesser charactersare just as likely to be based to some extenton the author or bits of his or her life.And often the readers are not…

    Lou Faber

  • DYING TO KNOW

    Last week my doctor saidI really needed to updatemy Advance Directiveand Living Will. There isnothing more joyous thantelling doctors whento pull the plug and let youslip away into the crematorium.And now that I did, I realizeI must redo it for it is onlywhen I can no longer writea poem that I will be sufficientlyfar gone…

    Lou Faber

  • NEXT UP

    Back in the day,that day being the last timeI attended an open mic,odd since most are intimate enoughthat no microphone is provided,I stood at the lecternand looked carefully at the audiencethat was mine for the next few minutes.I wanted to see their responseto me, my clothing choicesand then my words, trying to readthe indecipherable map…

    Lou Faber

  • A FROSTY RECEPTION

    I truly wish Robert Frost was still aliveso I could ask him where he foundthat yellow wood of his poem.The woods I know are mostly pinein the Adirondacks, or mixed hardwoodsand when autumn arrives they greet itin shades of green, red, orangeochre and yes, some yellow,but hardly enough to givethe forest that titular color.And even…

    Lou Faber

  • HOME, STRANGELY

    When you visit Galway cityyou will stand slack-jawedat some, most actually,of the buskers you seeon almost every street.Young and talented, you needto find a bank where youcan stock up on oneEuro coins, lest your tripcost more than youever intended at five eurosfor each performance.And when you visit a pubat night, come preparedwith a song, or…

    Lou Faber

  • FLATTERY

    I have never bought into the conceptthat imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.That said, I have spent far too long scouringthe small shops of Crete, Santorini, Lesbos,the back alleys of towns on Rhodes, Corfu,Naxos, Lemnos, Chios, driven throughThessaloniki, Patras Piraeus, Heraklion.Throughout, I’ve carefully marshaledwords and phrases, outlined forms,honed allusions, alliteration, the odd chiasmusI’ve even…

    Lou Faber