an old writer and his words

  • A STEP TOO FAR

    He knew, the minute he stepped off, that it wasn’t going to end well. He should have realized it two steps earlier, but hindsight was of little use to him now. He knew he had to keep looking up, to focus on the sky. He knew he had to hope it would be like entering…

    Lou Faber

  • AROMA

    What I want, no, need actually,is to remember the smells of youth.The images I can recall, but they areaged pictures, run repeatedly throughthe Photoshop of memory, andcannot be trusted only desired. The old, half ready to fall oak,in the Salt Lake City park hada faint pungency that lingeredeven as I departed my body asthe acid…

    Lou Faber

  • ANCIENT AMONG ANCIENTS

    As we walked slowly through the Forumthe Coliseum receding into the lateafternoon, the Virgins stood patientlyas befits a priestess trained to avoidthe stares of passing men, even touristssuch as we were, the columns staringdown reminding us of our youth despite the birthdays that we celebratedwith the joy of togetherness, andthe nagging knowledge that we wereanother…

    Lou Faber

  • HOGEN’S DRIP OF WATER 鐵笛倒吹 九十一

    What are wordsof wisdomfrom the mouthof the ancient ones.I tell youthese are such words.You may acceptor reject themas you will.Better still, tearthis page from its bindingcrumple itand cast itto the four winds.Let it be carriedoff in ten directions. A reflection on case 91 of the Iron Flute Koans

    Lou Faber

  • THE MIND’S BLIND EYE

    He imagined the end was coming,but that was his problem, imaginingfor it was about all he was capable of doing. He started small, near visualizationmore than imaginings, but he grew moreproficient with practice, his ideas his conceptions of an increasinglygrander scale, until from a single threadhe could weave a tapestry that boggled even his mind,…

    Lou Faber

  • SONNETS AND SALADS

    I would love to know the precise momentwhen the consensus of critics reachedthe tipping point, that lettuce wasno longer a green, but some lesser vegetable. That would be around the time thatArugula and romaine declared themselvessomething other than lettuce, leavingiceberg and Bibb as produce outcastswhile spinach, kale and chard openly declared their superiority over allof…

    Lou Faber

  • DOGO’S GREATEST DEPTH 鐵笛倒吹 六十六

    If you walk into the roomand many are meditatinghow will you know whichis the teacher, which the students? If one sits on a higher platformwill you assume him teacherand ask the depth of his Zen.If he comes down to youand says he has no depth to offerdo not think him a fool.When you sit at…

    Lou Faber

  • DOG DAYS

    Growing up my family always had dogs,only one at a time, of course, since wewere a modern suburban family,which may be why we had a dog. It clearly wasn’t because they loved dogs,they tolerated them on good days,ignored them the rest of the timeand the good days were few if any. I never asked for…

    Lou Faber

  • NOTING WEATHER

    The weather, he announced to no one in particular,ought to be musical or at leastincorporate some jazz. Spring is bebop, Trane and Parker,the sudden clash of Blakeythe downpours of Dizzy and the hint of what’s to comeon the fingers of Monk, andKenny and Milt. Summer brings the slow easingas early Miles slides in, and wesink…

    Lou Faber

  • WHAT’S IN A NAME?

    He only wants to knowmy spiritual name, “your falseworld name is of no matter.” I tell him I have only one name,the one my parents gave me,and it has worked to this point quite well, and no one has eversuggested I might need another,although my Jewish friends have two. “No,” he says, “your spiritual nameisn’t…

    Lou Faber