an old writer and his words

  • RECYCLED NEWS

    The newspapers pile up,their headlines screamout, sections of business newsor the arts, and a halfcompleted crossword., They sit patiently, knowingmuch has happened that weought to know, but wehave grown tired of deathand so each week we place them in the binwhere they are takento the dump wherethe lessons of the newsgo to die forgotten.

    Lou Faber

  • PLAYLIST

    I realize now justhow old I have gotten,no laughing any longer at the old men alwaystucking pills into a sorterneatly marked by day and time, for I now do my ownweekly, the number of pillsseeming to propogate by month. I suppose it is timeto begin working in earneston the playlist for my funeral. I’ll be…

    Lou Faber

  • YAKUSAN’S DISCOURSE

    When the master takes his seatwhat do you expect of him?Do you watch his postureor how his hands are set.Do you stare at his lipsand what do you hearwhen they move, but no soundcomes from his throat.Listen carefully, for herethe dharma unfoldslike the first chrysanthemum. A reflection on Case 79 of the Shobogenzo (Dogen’s True…

    Lou Faber

  • APPROACHING AUTUMN

    This is the seasonwhen the maplesbegan their rainof colored tears. It may still be so,but not here,and the palmsknow no seasons. Once there wasa veil of lilac,bushes trying tooutdo the others. But at leastthe magnolias carenothing for distanceoffering their beauty here and where wenow have onlymemories of the ebband flow of seasons.

    Lou Faber

  • VENEER

    Peel back the veneerto discover the objectalways below the surfacefor all objects have veneersand the true objectalways lies beneath. Grasp this new object,study and consider itthen peel backits veneer and discoverthe true object’strue object. Continue as thoughplaying withan infinite setof Matryoshka dollsuntil you realizethe true objectis no object at all.

    Lou Faber

  • BALLET OF THE GODS

    Once they pierced your heelsto hobble you, bound upfeet and ankles to lashyou to the earth, there weren’tangels then, no wings, just the painof toes crushed inward,the silent agony of motion,a cruel joke played by godsstarved for entertainment.But Terpsichore, hearingErato’s song, set them freebrought them to a pointe,allowed them to take winglessflight, and toes became…

    Lou Faber

  • FOUR ZEN HAIKU

    myself is no selfno self is universalinfinite being emptiness surroundsall forms are illusorythis is samadhi compassion aboundsalways out of your sightuntil you live it dharmas teach nothingcontain infinite knowledgejust stop looking

    Lou Faber

  • REDUCTIO AD ABSURDUM

    Gertrude Stein saidpoetry is vocabulary,or so Simic reported it,but in that casewhat do we makeof Haiku, wherea poem at maximumcan use onlyseventeen words. Perhaps, if wefollow Levi-Strausshaiku is not poetrybut art, for all artis reductionand there is littleyou can doto reducea haiku further.

    Lou Faber

  • SANSHO’S GOLDEN FISH 正法眼蔵 語十二

    Ask a question,if you get no responseis the question goodor is it foolish,is the teacher fooled,or simply too busy to answer.Be careful or youwill be trappeddeep within the net. A reflection on Case 52 of the Shobogenzo (Dogen’s True Dharma Eye)

    Lou Faber

  • RETURNING

    The Great Egrets swoop low,make a slow banking turnand alight in the leafless tree. They sit imagining water,the wetland they knewa month or so ago, nowmore a mud flat all waitingfor the rainy season’s arrival. They leave as night approaches,the once wetland suddenlyagain silent, and we areleft to dream of the flocksof ibis, herons and…

    Lou Faber