an old writer and his words

  • FOUR HAIKU

    At night’s marginsdreams may ferry you acrossrivers of doubt Paper boatsfloat slowly down riversof deep felt hopes Paper lanternsslowly carry awayancestral spirits A thousand craneslift into a scarlet skyand chase the sun

    Lou Faber

  • DRY FEET

    My Buddhist teachers saythat you cannot stepinto the same river twice.I am not one for steppinginto rivers at all, havingas a child done so andslipping on a smooth rockfalling and bruising my thigh.It was more of a creekand I should have seenthe slime on the rockbut a child is more interestedin what lies ahead and…

    Lou Faber

  • AGAIN, FROM THE TOP

    How many years had it been?Neither of them wanted to count,each said they had moved on,neither knowing where on was.Yet when by chance they met againneither could say why it had ended,but each had been certain it wasthe other who had ended it, much,so very much to their surprise.That was always how it had been,each…

    Lou Faber

  • TWO INNER VOICES

    Sit still and be quiet,don’t rock the boatblend in, be wallpaper,avoid being noticedkeep your head downsay nothing, or less Let them know you are herestand outmake noise if neededtake a standsay what must be saidtake the lead that is what it comes down todo you want to beor do you want to truly live?

    Lou Faber

  • VINCENT

    When we visited Arleswe expected to see paintingsof wildflowers, night skies,all the images that Van Goghleft as his legacy. We did see posters,postcards and booksbut not a single paintingis to be found by the masterwhere he painted. We at least hopedthe night sky from the boatwould be somethingto remember alwaysbut clouds over Arleslook much the…

    Lou Faber

  • AFLOAT

    I have taken tofolding my poemsinto little paper boatsand dropping gentlyinto the riverwhere they saildownstream. Many may drownbut some mayreach the lakeor be plucked outand reador discarded. The river is,in the end,my harshestcritic.

    Lou Faber

  • IMMIGRATION

    When you got off the boatyou must have been scared,but getting away from that lifemade the fear bearable. I have no idea how you endedup in West Virginia, it wasn’tat all like Lithuania, and Jewsmight have had two heads I imagine. But you all made do, madea community, invited othersand were tolerated if odd,and I…

    Lou Faber

  • FATHER AND SON

    We sat in the small boat,the motor still, drifting downstream,our lines in the water, the bobbersdancing in the morning breeze. He smiled, proud that we weredoing this together, he who knewless about fishing than I, his son,and I knowing next to nothing. I kept casting into the weeds,hoping they would tangle myline, free the worm…

    Lou Faber

  • WIEN

    We were walking around Vienna, Wien,the river cruise boat arriving early, dropped off into the city center, toldwe had precisely two hours to wander,or we’d make our own way back,and risk missing lunch and the formal tour. We wandered, following instructions,looking in vain for a café where wecould get an Austrian cappuccino, and perhapsa pastry…

    Lou Faber

  • SENTENCE

    The hardest prison to escape is the one whose walls are built by the mind with fear and trepidation. It is like the open gate you dare not enter, fearing that you are leaving and will not be allowed to return. Atop a pole there are an infinite number of directions to go and only…

    Lou Faber