an old writer and his words

  • REAL TIME

    Reality is clearly something to be avoidedto be dressed up in tattery, tied in ribbons,perfumed, yet its fetid stenchis always lurking in the backgroundwaiting to pierce your nostrilsin an incautious moment until you retchand bring up the bile that marksthe darker moments of your life,the kind that lingers in the throatwhich no chocolate can erase.Reality…

    Lou Faber

  • YOU ARE INVITED

    I have to compliment you,after all you ignored mefor four years in high school,condemned me to the outcasts,the geeks, the losers, the barelytolerated and then only whenthe Headmaster was watching. I didn’t go to your parties,no one without an invitationever dared, was left to theclubs no one wanted to join,but I have to say I…

    Lou Faber

  • The World-Honored One’s Intimate Speech 正法眼蔵 三十四

    The wise one deliversmost knowledgewithout opening his mouth.The sagacious studentdoes not hide the wisdomhe inherits but offers itin utter silence.What is ityou wished to sayfor I am readynot to listen. A reflection on Dogen’s Shobogenzo Koans Case 34 (True Dharma Eye)

    Lou Faber

  • A RETURN SOMEDAY

    Some day I need to returnto Tokyo and walk its streetslistening for the soundtrackthat Haruki Murakami requiresof the city, bebop jazzin Shinjuku, classical whenwandering Asakusa and Senso-ji,and rock on the streets of Shibuya. I have often been there, butmy soundtrack was thatof horns and the clatterof a pachinko parlor, orthe pitched giggles of younggirls walking…

    Lou Faber

  • SEOUL

    The Han river, gray to greenhinting at mud, but roiledthis day, is a keloid scaracross the torso of Seoul,its suture bridges strugglingto hold the halves together. Soon it will be dark, the Hanthen a no-man’s land, separatingthe two Seouls, each certainit is its own whole, neitherlooking north to an alwaysforeboding step-sibling.

    Lou Faber

  • AFTERLIFE

    In the farthest reachesof the afterlife, the old mengather each day, althoughday and night are meaninglessto them, just assignedfor purposes of the writer. The Buddha recites sutrashoping the others willbe in the moment with him,while Hillel smiles, standson one foot and dreamsof a lean pastrami on ryewith a slice of half sour. Christ muses on…

    Lou Faber

  • ENFORCED SILENCE

    The city is a ghost town,the ghosts peering warilyfrom windows they nowwish they had takenthe time to have cleaned,and now there is timeand no one to clean. They fear the silence,cannot fathom the smellof the air, somethingfaintly like a cool morningfrom their suburban childhoods. They have found pots,pans cast aside or usedfor any purpose otherthan…

    Lou Faber

  • WANDERING NO MORE

    In my dreams I wanderedthe alleys of Lisbon searchingfor a familiar face, and manycame close, but no man stopped meand asked if I was, by chancehis son, for he dreamed Iwas what a son of hiswould look like. Now I have no need to wanderfor I know he is ina military cemeteryin Burlington, New Jersey,and…

    Lou Faber

  • STARING

    She sits demurely on the stepstaring off at something.You want to know what buther face isn’t saying, her eyessoft, revealing nothing, her smileenticing, teasing, and out of grasp. You want to sit with her, seewhat she looks at, what has capturedher thoughts, and there is roomon the step for you to join her,but you have…

    Lou Faber

  • SEPPO’S TURNING THE WHEEL 正法眼蔵 三十八

    The wisest of men,when asked at what timeit is best to pursue the Way, will answer when a thousand starshave made their presence known.The wisest student will saywhen cleaning myselfby bathing in the mud.This will become clearwhen the frogconsumes the dragon. A reflection on Case 35 of Dogen’s Shobogenzo Koans (True Dharma Eye)

    Lou Faber