an old writer and his words

  • SADNESS

    He never stopped to take noticethat his anger had given wayto a deep sadness, onehe felt had him trapped, searchingthrough the pain for an exitfrom a place he never imaginedhe would leave willingly.He had promised her a lifetime,a statement he took as a truthnot considering that her promise,whatever it had been, had becomeviolable, the pain…

    Lou Faber

  • SUZY

    What do you sayon the loss of a child?We sat in the loungedrinking a vile potionfrom a hollowed pineapple,giggling insanelyfor no reason.We wandered the tunnelsfaces painted,clowns in bedlam.We lay togetheron a mattresson the floor and listenedto Aqualungmy arms around youboth, but sleepcame slowly and we talkeduntil night ran fromthe encroaching sun. I can feel her…

    Lou Faber

  • MY SORT OF SISTER

    I don’t remember her crib,but it was probably the one that Ihad only recently outgrown, butthe wood was polished pine,the rails topped with plasticthat I had dented with some cribtoy or other, the mattress soft,a mobile hanging off the end.She cried a lot at first, and mothersaid that was what babies did,but she said I…

    Lou Faber

  • INSTAHELL OR METAHELL?

    Some might call us linguistic sadistsand it would be difficult to argue that point.We take a perverse joy in torturing language,as though trying to make it agree with whatwe imagine it should do in our delusional world.And I am willing (and quite able) to lay someof the blame on social media, that baneof modern existence…

    Lou Faber

  • SUIGAN’S EYEBROWS

    If you sitwith two teachersand ask themto explain the Dharmaeach may givea different answer.Both are right,both are wrong.Which do you believe?Does it matter? A reflection on Case 71 of The Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • NOTHING TO FEAR BUT

    He knew his emotions swunglike a pendulum in an everwidening arc, and that centralto the swings was the pit of fearon the precipice of whichhe found himself yet again.Some days it was the fear of rejection,that was a practiced reality for himyet never less intensely painful.Other days it was the fear of acceptancefor with that…

    Lou Faber

  • JUST LIKE US

    We love nothing more than to anthropomorphize. It is one of our defining characteristics. It makes our lives simpler since we can relate more easily to people than animals or things. And after all, we did make God in our image, or is it the other way around? Does God deimorphize us? Anyway, we know…

    Lou Faber

  • A DEPARTURE

    The sun is departing, sayingfarewell to a day wecan no longer reclaim, lostto history, to our inaction, inattention.We will try and remember it,cling to moments from it,but we know they are illusionsbest left in a past already departed.The stars will peer throughthe flowing clouds, winkingas if we are to guess their secrets,and soon the moon…

    Lou Faber

  • MOVING WALL

    She walks slowly pastthe three bronze menslumped wearily one against the others,and shuffled haltingly towardthe Wall where, at the sixth panel,she stooped and placed the small plastic poppyin the trough that cut along the base of the marble.Eyes squeezed closedshe reached up and tracedthe etched lettersseeking warmth from the cold stoneand felt its coarseness, likehis…

    Lou Faber

  • ONCE, AGAIN

    His mind was dancingwhile his feet were firmly anchoredto the unyielding ground.It has long been this wayhis mind demanding a freedomhis body is incapable of granting.But in his dreams his body hasinfinite flexibility, can moveas the mind needs only to imagine.those moments of freedom, he knowswill depart when the day once againimprisons him, locking himin…

    Lou Faber