an old writer and his words

  • DISENG-AGING

    Christ, I have gotten old,and every day it hits home againin ways I wouldn’t have imagined.I mean M*A*S*H beganmore than half a century agoended 40 years ago, and the actorsI imagined as friends are mostly goneor are so old they are unrecognizable.And Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moonrecently turned 50 and it seemsonly yesterday…

    Lou Faber

  • MISHI’S WHITE RABBIT

    If you seea poor mancross your pathhow will youdescribe your meeting.If you saya poor mancrossed your pathyou are wrong forperhaps it is youwho crossed his path. A reflection on case 56 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • THIS WEEK

    This week I will be Presbyterian.One week a month I becomea follower of a different faithand it was Presbyterian’s turn.I’m not certain what I will benext month, Lutheran perhaps, ormaybe I’ll go with Episcopalian.I haven’t been that in a while.Most of the time I’m a practicingZen Buddhist, sitting dailyon my cushion looking at the walland…

    Lou Faber

  • GONE STILL

    Gone21 yearsstill lookingas you did81 years agoin the Morris HarveyCollege yearbookand that is how,and only how,you will everlook to memother. Thatand the tombstoneon which I criedthree years agowhen we metfor the first time.

    Lou Faber

  • PREP SCHOOLING

    They told me I didn’t belongnever would. It was just aboutthe only thing on which we agreed.But, I know, “you pays your money”and all of that, and my moneyhad been paid in fullso there I was and would remainuntil I could make an escape.Don’t get me wrong, despitethe Brooks Brothers uniformsit was only a social…

    Lou Faber

  • VULCAN’S FLAMES

    The ark of hope had sailedalmost empty, their realitywas free falling, their dreamsconsumed in the furnaceof their greed, their arrogance.Time was hanging suspended,they were grasping at the handsof the clock perched now inover the growing abyss.Once they had been gods, orimagined themselves so, nowthey were fuel for Vulcan’s flames.Once they were prophetsof an unbounded, unbridled…

    Lou Faber

  • SISTER

    I can picture her sittingin her small apartmentholding a cup of tea.This is Parma, or perhaps,Milan, two of the threecities I visited in Italy.Her hair is long, grayand white, her smile pained.She does not know I existbut we share so much,a father we never metfirst and foremost.We will never meet,for she, too, may be dead…

    Lou Faber

  • MARCHING

    We walkedfor hours a daywe walked goingnowhere exactlythey wantedmarchingwe walked never quitein stepdespite Sarge’scursed entreaties.By the endof the fifth weekwe marchedin stepmostly.Sarge foundother thingsto curse“you will NEVERbe soldiers” he saidWe are inthe Air Forcewe thoughtnever meantto be soldiers.

    Lou Faber

  • SEPPO THE RICE COOK

    If you sitbefore your teacherand she says nothingwhat do you do?Do you speak, doyou ask her a questionor do you sitsilently until dismissedknowing silenceis the firstand last wordof this lesson. A reflection on case 55 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • MISSED MEETING

    On Saturday it will be21 years since I missedthe last chance to meet my mother.If this seems strange to youimagine how it is for me, how itit is to have your mother dieat 82 and you now 70saying you never got to meet.You’ve guessed correctly that Iam an adoptee, but did you knowI waited so…

    Lou Faber