an old writer and his words

  • LIKE LEMMINGS

    It yells tourist. Hell, it screams it so loud you can hear it in the next county. But they line up for it, wait patiently or not, not even certain why they are here. Some actually take in the Castillo, but most want to see the Fountain of Youth, which bears a remarkable resemblance to…

    Lou Faber

  • ISAN’S KARMIC CONSCIOUSNESS

    If the Master sees youand calls out your name,will you answer?If you ask him a questionand he does not respond,is that his answer?And if he does answerhow do you knowif the answer is correct?If you ask him nothingall his answers are perfect. A reflection on Case 37 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • ME AND MY . . .

    I didn’t stopto think it at all oddthat when I walked backwardthis morning my shadowdecided to walk ahead of me.I was going to ask him whyhe decided to lead, butas I turned to walk backto the car he fell insilently behind meand refused to answeras the clouds came over usand he slipped away again.

    Lou Faber

  • HORSING AROUND

    At some point in time I imaginemy mother’s family must’ve hadhorses, or perhaps the ones they sawwere the horses of the locals,an aide when you are conductinga pogram, chasing familiesfrom their homes, into a flight to freedom.Perhaps my family were farmersor merchants in Lithuania, thoughprobably not owning a drugstoreas their children did in CharlstonWest Virginia,…

    Lou Faber

  • ME, MYSELF, AND I

    I suppose I would be justifiedin hating it, and I do admita little spite, but I tread carefullyaround it for I know the consequences.It’s fragility, seemingly suddenand unexpected, can be infuriating,and it has developed this tendencyto fail me in ways great and small.While I should expect thisand I have made efforts to accept itas graciously…

    Lou Faber

  • PLAYIN’ WHAT’S NOT THERE

    Some say Miles said it’s the space between the notes –that’s where the music is.We heard him, we smiled,we anticipated the nextnote and the next.Outside my windowa blue jayrecites his morning prayer,the child’s laughbreaks the frozen skyand shivers the maple.Then all is silence –even the windholds its breathnot in anticipationbut to create the voidthat nature…

    Lou Faber

  • VICARIOUSLY

    I wonder how my life would bedifferent if just once duringmy childhood I had imaginedthere was a ghost under my bedor a skeleton buried in the garden.I read books with thosescenes and I felt deprived.My friends said that I lackedimagination, and I was ableto imagine them fallingvictim to ghosts that inhabitedtheir homes, were carried offby…

    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

  • BASO’S ILLNESS

    If I ask youhow long weboth will live,how will you answer?The answeris simple, buthidden, for we bothwill live untilthe momentwe do not,and there isonly this momentanyway. A reflection on Case 36 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    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