an old writer and his words

  • MISSING

    Orion failed to appear last night which allowed the bears an evening of peace, certain they were not prey. They cavorted as bears are wont, to the pleasure of Cassiopeia. The lion stuck his head in, but lions know the bears need their space and anyway, they could see the dragon lurking on the horizon…

    Lou Faber

  • OH, UNSWEET ROSE

    There are days when nothing less than a full blown cliche will suffice, and any attempt at brevity will result in an utter and total failure and wit will mourn it soul. You might as well spit in the wind, because you simply cannot swim against that tide, and it and time will never wait…

    Lou Faber

  • GENETIC DREAMS

    The hardest part, surprisingly, is finding that one odd thread where you least expected, and following it back until it merges with another, and another still until you recognize that it is a weft, and the warp slowly becomes more apparent. Still it is nothing but carefully interwoven threads until you allow yourself to step…

    Lou Faber

  • THE FORM OF A POET

    It seems odd driving by Mount Hope Cemetery knowing Adelaide Crapsey’s grave is there. If Basho were there a much smaller grave would do under summer’s sun. Shakespeare is buried in Stratford-Upon-Avon so this can end with twelve lines to spare.

    Lou Faber

  • ZAZEN

    It does nothing, sits there, immobile and this deeply frustrates you. Things are not supposed to be absolutely still, some motion, however small is required. You stare at it, hoping it will move, will shake or lift, or even settle lower but it does nothing. You sit and stare in growing anger absolutely still doing…

    Lou Faber

  • HUANG PO’S GOBBLERS OF DREGS

    The old monk, leaning on his cane smiled at the man prostrating himself before the great Buddha repeatedly. The monk gently interrupted the man, “what is it you hope to achieve by all of these prostrations, you clearly are seeking something, you clearly have not found what you are seeking.” “I am seeking the wisdom…

    Lou Faber

  • QUARTET (HAIKU)

    pond’s surface ripples each following another stone hidden from sight the old monk listens to the song of the passing breeze stars sing the refrain Buddha walks the road ignoring all around him each finds a teacher a circular path will take you nowhere quickly again and again

    Lou Faber

  • TEN DIRECTIONS

    It would help, she said, if you would stop thinking of yourself as Sisyphus and all of life as the rock. You might actually, one day, begin to enjoy what you do. It would help, he said, if I could be like a great blue heron, grow wings and take to a summer sky leaving…

    Lou Faber

  • TS’UI YEN’S EYEBROWS

    The question is a simple one, really, but not one you were expecting, which is why you sit and grapple for an answer. Ask yourself, what if no answer is needed, what if there is no answer, can you remain silent, or will you feel somehow incomplete if you do not respond? All answers are…

    Lou Faber

  • NATURE’S PROPHET

    He sits still demanding your attention. He stares at you with green eyes and a defiant look, saying you are a visitor here, this is our world so do not abuse your privilege of sharing this space with us. We were here long before you arrived and our kind will be here long after you…

    Lou Faber