an old writer and his words

  • KNOWING

    It is now a given that youwill always want to know morefor that is human nature, which isto say an intellectual greed.It is not a deadly sin, butit did get Adam and Evekicked out of Eden, sobe careful for what you ask.What you don’t consideris what you might do withthe information, the moreif you were…

    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

  • PAY UP

    Look carefully, focus, is thata cathedral of dreams on the horizonor a nightmare future that flowsinexorably toward you, withno escape route, the priceof waiting too long, of assumingit wouldn’t happen here, itwouldn’t happen to you, couldbe wished away, could beignored without peril.What last prayers will youoffer to a God deaf to you,whose prophets you spurned.This…

    Lou Faber

  • SHISHO’S TRANSMISSION

    If a teacher offersto give you the dharmawhat will you do.If you accept his offerhe will give youan empty sack of air.If you refuse the offeryou will havefound the dharmaall around you. A reflection on Case 64 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • HORIZON

    He was always lookingto the horizon, as if tomorrowwould provide some small hintof what was to come, knowingthe shadows of yesterday wouldalways be trailing behind him, hisalbatross of unfulfilled dreams.He knew it was a futile searchthat he was wasting his presentfor a future that would arrive on its terms,but compulsions were things hehad been powerless…

    Lou Faber

  • CRIME SCENE

    It was far and away the worstcrime scene he could rememberand he had been at it for many years.Over here were the bodiesof anapests and dactylsmotionless where they fell,oh how he wanted to pulla white sheet over themfor his sake if not for theirsfor they were beyond caring.By the wall he saw a trocheehalf draped…

    Lou Faber

  • HOPE, YET

    There is a certain pleasurein reading obscure biographiesof the decidedly lesser lightsof their respective fields.Inevitably a writer assiduouslystruggles to avoid mentionof the great men and womenwho define the discipline,and the books are shorter,for even if their lives were visitedby great trials, and even ifthey overcame obstacles,we all know they ascendedonly so far, and we,at the…

    Lou Faber

  • CAMERA OBSCURED

    People stand in awelooking at what Ansel Adams’camera saw on those magical days.I am an outlier, for althoughI am struck by the beautyHis photographs offer my eyes,the stark play of light and dark,how shadows define a world,that is not what I wishthat I could see, for I wantnothing more than to seewhat Ansel Adams sawwith…

    Lou Faber

  • THE ROCKPILE

    I was still a child, or mostly so,when he took me to the gamenot because he liked football butbecause that was what fatherswere supposed to do, he had been told.It was freezing that day in the stadiumthey called the Rockpile althoughthere were no rocks, just a fewchunks of its concrete shellthat had fallen off the…

    Lou Faber