an old writer and his words

  • A RUNG TOO HIGH

    He is fully stuck on the hornsof a dilemma from which hecan see no way to extricate himself.He needs to get up on the roofand patch the hole beforethe storm shortly arrives full force.The old wooden ladder that hasbeen lying along the sideof the house is far too heavy for himto maneuver into position and…

    Lou Faber

  • CLOCKWORK

    Deep within the cosmic corethe celestial horologist tinkers,bending time into wormholesas the stars stare, muted.We are oblivious, strain to seeour place amid endless expansion.We accelerate blindly, unknown,unknowing where we are,where is could be at thismoment, at any moment,caught up in the temporal tide,a never yielding riverin which we inevitably drown.We swim against time’s tide,a futile…

    Lou Faber

  • FINAL MOMENT

    You would think that thosewith an abiding faith in an afterlifewould approach the transitionto death without fear, merely a stepinto a promising, promised unknown.And perhaps some do take this approachbut many, it seems, when the abyss opensbefore them and there is no going backexpress the moment of fear, of terror,thoughts reserved to the nonbelievers.Of course…

    Lou Faber

  • TIME DOES NOT WAIT

    I sat today and staredinto the backyard, lookingcarefully for rabbits.None appeared today despitemy fond desire to see oneassuming it would beauspicious somehow.It is their year nowso I know they cango when and where they please.Perhaps they are lookingfor red banners of welcomeand I offer none of those forthe Buddhas on the altar sayDragon ought not…

    Lou Faber

  • HOGEN’S BY BOAT OR LAND

    When the teacher asks youwhy you came to see himwhat will you answer?If you ask him a questionhe will sit silentlywaiting for you to answer.If you simply nodand bow he will smileand you may leave fulfilled. A reflection on Case 51 of The Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    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

  • TEN-HUT

    My buddy swore that he couldtell when an officer was approachingsince he could smell them evenwhen they came from behind us.I didn’t buy it, refused to actually,as it was absurd no matter howgood his sense of smell might be.He said that he was part catand cats had terrific senses,smelling being principal among them.Of course I…

    Lou Faber

  • ANTIQUEING

    Mother was an inveterate attendeeat flea markets and Goodwill storesand I would accompany her.She had a knack for antiques, wouldrummage for stereopticon slides,player piano rolls and anything elseshe thought belonged in the family roomshe had taken back to the late 19th century.She scouted the stalls, the darkcorners where Goodwill put thingsthey didn’t think would sell,…

    Lou Faber

  • THINGS I SHOULD HAVE TOLD MY SONS

    1.You can lead a horse to waterbut if he is agoraphobicyou will be walking home 2.You can runbut doing so on icewill lead to useless bruisingand broken bones 3.a bird in the handwill not be terribly happyand could shitall over your new shoes 4.All good things comeand most go,but bad things lingerif you allow it…

    Lou Faber

  • THE EASE OF FORGETTING

    I have little memory of the manwho was my first adoptive fatherand none of his funeral, two-year-olds,my mother said, should notknow of death at that age.Nor did I attend my grandmother’s,she the mother of my second adoptive fatherbecause 12-year-old shouldn’thave the memory of funerals,according to my mother.I did attend her mother’s funeral,had to because I…

    Lou Faber