an old writer and his words

  • REALITY, OF A SORT

    The single greatest problemwith dreams is that theyare utterly real when youare dreaming, the absurdis not only permittedbut expected, and in thatmoment it is hardly absurd. The dead and living comeand go with impunity,and you welcome themas real people becausefor that period of timethey are as real as you are. But awakening, you realizeit was…

    Lou Faber

  • FATHER AND SON

    We sat in the small boat,the motor still, drifting downstream,our lines in the water, the bobbersdancing in the morning breeze. He smiled, proud that we weredoing this together, he who knewless about fishing than I, his son,and I knowing next to nothing. I kept casting into the weeds,hoping they would tangle myline, free the worm…

    Lou Faber

  • ORDINARY MIND

    What is the wayno way is the wayYou are on the wayof no way, whenyou stop seekinga way to the waywhen all is emptyand the wayis clear.

    Lou Faber

  • HEAVEN CAN WAIT

    A Rabbi once told me thatif you want to get to heaven,something Jews don’t believe in,you must atone to those youhave harmed, or injuredbefore you die. I’ve started making a list,and it feels like I am insome wierd version ofHigh Fidelity, but mineis more than a top five. I’ve made a few efforts,some accepted, some…

    Lou Faber

  • FLIGHT

    We imagine that they aredisappearing into the cloudsonly to reemergein a different place. Nothing could be furtherfrom the truth for they,these raptors flyingon monstroius wings,are shredding the cloudsripping free their fruit,eating of the sweetestparts, letting the restfall down on usas we scurry awayafraid of being soakedin their remnants.

    Lou Faber

  • CRUCIFICTION

    I am mystic, thief, madman,all that, considerably more,never begging, always takenwhat is arrayed before mefavor curried, passage guaranteedcoins gathered, stored so thereare none to cover the eyes or paythe ferryman’s wages.I can turn wine to waterand hide fish in the midstof loaves, the trick isto distract you so the orderis reversed, a sleight unseen.I am…

    Lou Faber

  • NOT COUNTING

    I have had two,although the first is longforgotten, so perhaps itno longer counts, itcertainly didn’t to her,announcing its endlike the conductorof a train running lateon the mainline to sadness. Perhaps I have not forgottenbut all I see is myselfstanding alone, intoningwords to which the crowdintently listens, much likethe audience at a readingby a lesser known…

    Lou Faber

  • WETLAND HAIKU

    Beside the still ponddragonflies hover lightlysenbazuru dawn The Great Egret staresthe still pond returns his staredawning sun laughing Clouds swallow the moonmoorhens chanting their vesperssleep overtakes us A dragonfly sitswaiting for us to take winggravity says no

    Lou Faber

  • CHŌSHA’S RETURNING TO MOUNTAINS

    When you see a mountainwhy must you climb itwith your eyes.When you heara mighty river whymust you ford itwith your ears,when you feel the earthwhy must you touchit with your feet?Are younot the mountaindoes the river runthrough you, as yourun through it, areyou not the earth? A reflection on Case 16 of the Shobogenzo (Dogen’s…

    Lou Faber

  • OF DREAMS

    Last night in my sleepI though I heard an angelalthougn I could not, for trying,understand what it was saying,and it is odd since Ido not believe in angels. Perhaps it was the cat,but if so she has come upwith a new voice, using wordsnot formerly in her vocabulary,but you put nothingpast a cat, ever. I…

    Lou Faber