an old writer and his words

  • KOYO’S GARUDA BIRD

    When you sit on the cushionthere is only you, there is onlythe cushion, nothing more.When you rise from the cushionwhat becomes of you?Do you change, are youin some way different?But if there is no youif there is only onethen the cushiondoes not matter any longer. A reflection on Case 44 of the Book of Equanimity…

    Lou Faber

  • MOTHERS’ DAY

    This is the day I am supposedto honor my motherbut I am torn as to which motherI should pay tribute, or is itboth or possibly neither.One carried me, bore meinto life and departed,for my good, for hers andthe grave has sworn her to silence.Is it the woman whoadopted me, I her onlyuntil her new husbandgave…

    Lou Faber

  • A THOUSAND

    There is a far less obviousbut very important reasonto be a poet, a bit less so, but stilla good reason to write prose.Perhaps you will say that myreason is wholly and solelyaudience specific, and youwould be at least partially right,for if, like me, you are inthe process of losing your sight,or have already done so,…

    Lou Faber

  • MIND

    It takes so little to take you back. It takes no thinking but sensing to take you back.You catch an aroma of a fresh baked pie and you are thirteen and baking for the first time, apple with a lattice top for a parent soon back from the hospital. A song played in memory of…

    Lou Faber

  • LILAC FESTIVAL

    It is nota signof the apocalypseor shouldn’t be. The parkis redolentwith the scentof lilacs in blossom. You can smell itblocks away,and they flockunder the watchfuleye of the crowsto the carny trailers for kettle corn,roasted coated nuts,cotton candyand the beer tent waitingfor the musicas the lilacs sitforlornly wonderingwhen theyceased to matter. First Published in Flora Fiction,…

    Lou Faber

  • RECENT MEMORIES

    Looking through your wedding albumtwenty years after a midlife marriageyou are quickly awash in emotions.There is the joy of the moment, magnifiedduring the succeeding years, andthe rekindled memories of peopleand moments of the day forgottenor lost in the tumult that is attendanton any wedding, first or second.But there is a deep sadness as well,at those…

    Lou Faber

  • DEPARTURE

    She is leaving too soon.We know she is leaving,we know there is nothingthat can be done to changeher departure, only the timeremains uncertain, but nowit is clear it will be soon. It is not right or fair, we know,but that has little to do withwhen one must depart,time and fate are ficklein that way, and…

    Lou Faber

  • RAZAN’S ARISING AND VANISHING

    Thoughts comeand thoughts go.You know this, just asyou come and you go.But where do you go,where do thoughts goor were they never real.And if they were not realare you real, orare you a thought? A reflection on case 43 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • NEBULAS

    I can still recall the hoursspent dragging the giantDobsonian Telescope from the houseinto the yard, back or frontdepending on his demands.Then together we would aimthe beast, a simple tube really,with precisely placed lensesand mirrors, and he wouldpeer through the eyepieceand tell me what we were staring at.Actually he was staring, but hewould give me a…

    Lou Faber

  • IN THE CITY OF DREAMS

    my demonssink into the abyssof memoryand drownin the hollowbetween her breasts,she touches my armand presses backwe are Siamese fetusesfloating untetheredin the sea of night,I can smell the sweet soapand taste the sweatbeading on hershoulder blades,I brush my fingersacross her thighand cling to sleep. First published in Discretionary Love, June 2023https://www.discretionarylove.com/in-the-city-of-dreams-louis-faber/

    Lou Faber