an old writer and his words

  • ISLANDS

    I always loved visiting Japan,the Temples of Senso-ji, Todai-jiothers so small their names fadedas I walked away from them,for while I was gaijin, my zenmade them feel less alien.I enjoyed visits to Hawaii,the lushness of the landscape,the old whaling town, nowreduced to ash and ruin,the lava desert of the big island,the volcanoes, live and dormant.Everyone…

    Lou Faber

  • URBAN DREAMS

    The city crawls beneath youlike so many beasts awakenedin your recent nightmare, skitteringto somewhere you dare not imagine.This is not your city, it could never be,for cities are mere illusions, veneersfor prisons from which few escapeand fewer still are paroled, andyour sentence only ends in your death.Some say cities are beautiful, butyou know they are…

    Lou Faber

  • AT THE TEMPLE

    He stood stilljust outside the Buddha Hallhis back to the altar lookingat the great bell, watchingthe young robed monk approach.He knew what was coming,steeled himself for the momentas the monk walked into the shoro,pulled back on the suspended log,waited for that one instantwhen the log would strike the bell,the moment of atari, and he smiledknowing…

    Lou Faber

  • AIRPLAY

    I heard several people say thatif you were under 30 and livedin Boston or Cambridge and weren’ta student at Harvard, Brandeis or MITyou were either in a band or managed one.I went to college in upstate New York,but I was quite capable of managingtwo turntables, the microphone andan ancient tape cart machine,always timing my intro…

    Lou Faber

  • CONVERSING

    What we will never understandis that a wolf howling at the moonis engaged in a conversation, the silencewe hear is the moon’s answer to the wolf.We never stop to fully listen,for in silence much is said by naturethat our self-imposed deafnessto all but our kind forces us to ignore.In silent dreams entire worlds open upand…

    Lou Faber

  • TOKYO NIGHT SCENES

    Scene 1Just off Shinjuku chuo koen North,nestled in the courtyardof the Green Tower, hidesJyoufuji Temple, serenein the first light of morning,the sun dancing off the ceremonialbell its striker poised, as ifwaiting to catch the windand to it sing its resonant song.Inside, the prayer mats awaitthe first supplicants of the daybelow the sandalwood altarand above it…

    Lou Faber

  • AND NOT A PRINCE

    I suppose I could sit hereand emulate Hamlet, questionexistence, lose myself in a bookand when asked what I was readingreply words, words, words untilmy questioner doubted my sanity.But my father is gone, the biologicalone and both adopted onesfor bad measure, and so areboth mothers, so the key relationshipin that play has no underpinning in mine.And…

    Lou Faber

  • TOKYO SNAPSHOTS

    In the small yardof the matchbox housethe lone Ginkgotwisted by timefeels the barrennessof winter’s tongueand mournsits solitude. The apartment building looms upover the tracks of the Narita Expressthe balconies are deserted, savefor the laundry which flapsin the morning breeze,slapping with the gustsinto the small satellite dishesbolted to the railings. The ancient trees are twistedand gnarled,…

    Lou Faber

  • FROM HERE TO THERE

    It is a marvel of engineering,miniaturization taken to a new level.Once it was a pound of coffeewhere sixteen ounces became thirteenbut they knew we would growused to the new quantity afteronly a short period of complaining.That there weren’t other optionsall but guaranteed they would win.But now they’ve miniaturizedthe inside of airplanes, your seatnarrower, you knee…

    Lou Faber

  • GALWAY HIGH STREET

    She must be what, in her thirties nowbut in my mind she will alwaysbe nineteen, maybe twenty, shewill always be standing outsidethe boarded over windows of a storefronton High Street, most likely a mauvenubby skirt reaching just over the topof what might be Doc Martens, blackcardigan over a black turtleneckher fiddle tucked under her chin,the…

    Lou Faber