an old writer and his words

  • HISTORY AS IT WAS?

    The reason the Jews spent forty years wandering in the desert had nothing to do with bad directions, or generational turnover, according to Larry’s father who worked in advertising. It was quite simply because God got really pissed off at Aaron’s marketing plan, “A Golden Calf, my ass!” is what he probably said. “I had better…

    Lou Faber

  • THROUGH GAIJIN EYES

    1. From the window of the hotel bus the small, squared fields are a green that only painters achieve, deep, intense, unreal. As the bus inches forward along the Narita–Tokyo expressway the green forms neat rows set off by a shimmer of the gray sky mirror that bathes the young plants. 2. Tokyo is a…

    Lou Faber

  • THEN AGAIN

    1970. The evening news is a procession of body bags, the halls of the VA Hospital are a storehouse of shattered bodies. He sits with a surreal placidity cross-legged on the small cushion, the corners of his eyes pulling up as if lost in thoughts of Kyoto. I sit, knees creaking even then, across the…

    Lou Faber

  • TWO THOUGHTS

      Stare at a still pond, hear the birds “Beedu, Beedu,” now truly listen. . .   Tomorrow is gone, yesterday has disappeared. What moment is this?

    Lou Faber

  • WHAT, SHE ASKS, DOES A FEATHER SOUND LIKE?

    echo of Galileo’s ball in speeding flight once cast off the tower, the cascade of butterfly wings in mid migration, and universes collapsing, and the sound of everything the moment before there was time.

    Lou Faber

  • MUGO’S FANCIES 鐵笛倒吹 語十九

    If you stand on the shore of a still pond and toss a stone into its middle the ripples will spread slowly until the water laps your toes. If you stand on the shore of a still pond and toss a ring of the finest gold into the middle, the ripples will spread slowly until…

    Lou Faber

  • TEINEI-SA 丁寧さ

    He crawls out from under the blue tarp strung between two trees and a park bench with the first light of morning breaking over Shinjuku Chuo park, slowly erasing the shadows cast by the Metropolitan Government Building. He neatens the surrounding concrete, ready for the soon to be arriving crowd that appear each morning for…

    Lou Faber

  • ESCAPE PLAN

    Open the door quickly for you may find a wonderland: a bottled djinn waiting for your wish, a mangy dog looking for scraps his fur wet and matted, head down. Open the door quickly – it may be the entrance to a gallery or another door, and another until you are outside and must open…

    Lou Faber

  • FADING DREAMS

    Autumn perches on the thin edge of Winter a breeze will blow it into the eternal freeze. The burning bush is aflame, threatening to consume itself for a final time. The earthworm peers at the ashen sky knowing this day brings the world to an end. A squirrel drags a final nut into hiding his…

    Lou Faber

  • SUN-FACED BUDDHA, MOON-FACED BUDDHA

    Life is joy and pain, two sides, one coin – death is caused by birth – stop and consider this. Look into the face of the evening sun, will it retreat from your eyes or linger in memory? Look into the face of the full midnight moon, does she have the sun’s face only until…

    Lou Faber