an old writer and his words

  • YOUNGER MAN BLUES

    Going through files of photosI occasionally see a younger manwho is someone I should know. He doesn’t appear often, and Iam fairly certain I was neverthe photographer whenthose photos were taken. He is rather short, often seemsto wear a hat, is otherwiserather nondescript. Still, I would like to talkto him, as I suspect we wouldagree…

    Lou Faber

  • DO AS I SAY

    Eat your vegetables,Don’t ever run with scissors,Clean your room,Always wear clean underwear,Comb your hair every morning,Always say please and thank you,Always listen to adults, they know more,Be nice to animals and small children,Clean your room,Don’t go in the water for an hour after eating,Polish your shoes,Don’t play with sticks, you could put an eye out,Clean…

    Lou Faber

  • JIZO’S NOT KNOWING IS THE MOST INTIMATE

    When you comebefore your teacherand he asks youwhat is it exactlythat you are looking for,what is it that youexpect finally to attain,how will you answer him?If you say you are seekingenlightenment, he will laughand send you away,but if you answerthat you do not know,he will hand youan empty bowland tell you to go fill it.…

    Lou Faber

  • WORDS, WORDS, WORDS

    They can have sharp edgesthat wound on contact, some cutsso deep they leave lasting scars. They can get stuck in the throatuntil you feel you can no longerbreathe, no longer cry out for help. They can lie there, anaggregate always acretingand yet rejecting any meaning. Or they can, carefully chosenpresent great beauty, offerhope, promise freedom.…

    Lou Faber

  • PFFFT

    As I age now I amaware that the tetherto my earliest memorieshas grown thin, stretchedby time until I know it will,of necessity, soon give way. And so I spend sparemoments trying to sortthrough my life as I recallit, selecting those momentsthat bear the effort of retetheringso that time would be betterserved weakening others. But the…

    Lou Faber

  • SEASONS

    Here we measure seasonsby small changes in temperatureand for one, heavy rainfall. We are the calendar reliant,otherwise left to look at the moonand count to ascertain roughly what month it might be, butwe now live in a solar calendarworld so our lunar effortsare necessarily doomed to failure. And holidays are different here,Christmas has no snow,so…

    Lou Faber

  • CABERNET

    I should pause for a momentand mourn the plump orbsvinaceous in the morning sun,torn free, placed in basketsand carried off to be crushed.But the cabernet beckons,its first sip telling the taleof the California summer,the oak having long forgottenthe tree from which it was cut,and I watch as the sunreluctantly retreats,a flaming farewell, the promiseof a…

    Lou Faber

  • PRAVDA

    If I was in Russia Iwould have no problemfinding a title for this poemfor it would be The Last. I would write that I mournthe children, men, and womensacrificed to assuage hiswarped need for domination. I would write that I detesthis disregard of truth,supplanting it with his liesto justify his megalomania. I would write that…

    Lou Faber

  • MY RABBI (PART 2)

    I tell him I am thinking of becominga rabbi, someone just like him,a man who saw so many throughall manner of crises, joyous events. He sits back in his unsteady chair,one he refuses to replace, this onefinally broken in, he says with thatgentle smile that melts anger, anxiety. You would do well at it, I…

    Lou Faber

  • ARRHYTHMIA

    Life ought be little more thanarrhythmic motion, a pathwe only want to straighten,to smooth, its natural, necessarytwists and bumps somehow,for we always see them asimpediments not momentsof joyous indecision wherethere are no wrong choicesfor each choice unfoldsa new path never trodden,never imagined or foreseen. A bird flies to where it needsto be, but for most…

    Lou Faber