an old writer and his words

  • WHITE BREAD

    He was nondescript, innocuous. He named his dog Dog. His cat was called Cat. He grew daring with his parakeet and named it Wings. He wore beige from head to toe. Even his Sunday best, his “weddings and funerals suit” he called it, was beige. People wondered if his underwear was beige. He swore that…

    Lou Faber

  • CERTAIN MORNINGS

    There are morningswhen I wishI could be the cat,sit in the corner,close my eyes andwatch the worldsuddenly disappear.The cat breaksmy reverie, purringthere is room for oneand this roleis all mine. First appeared in The Flying Dodo, Issue 4, January 2023https://fantasyfantasywave.wixsite.com/my-site/louis-faber-certain-mornings

    Lou Faber

  • PURPOSES

    Life, she said, is all aboutfinding purpose not things. It was hard to argue with her,as she overwhelmed with examples. Rice filling a small bowlholds an incense stick up and catches the ashesas they fall quietly down.. A cracked plate can situnder a plant, catching any overflow from itscareful daily watering. And old fleece jacket…

    Lou Faber

  • GENSHA’S SEAMLESS STUPA

    If you pet a dragondoes it become a cat?If you make a cat roardoes it become a dragon?How highis over your head,how deepis beneath your feet.Build it just so. A reflection on Case 60 of Dogen’s Shobogenzo Koans (True Dharma Eye)

    Lou Faber

  • MUSINGS

    The poet muses: I wonderif a cat purrs when no oneis in the same room.I suppose we could put ina microphone and find out.Schrodinger comments:if there is no microphonethe cat is purring andthe cat is not purring,and what is the half-life of a poem. First Published in the 2005 Scars Publications Poetry Wall Calendar

    Lou Faber

  • AUBADE

    The sun peers throughthe skylight, sneakscatlike up the comforter.He strokes her cheek,they are drawn together,lips touch,toes twine,hips press,fingers trace,the mattress a worldof infinite gravity.Downstairsthe cat paces angrily,the coffeemakerthirsts for beans. First Published in the 2005 Scars Publications Poetry Wall Calendar

    Lou Faber

  • CAT’S GAME

    The cat is sleeping on the lanai, on the plant table among the bromeliads. The cat spends hours sleeping on the lanai when she isn’t walking on tables. There are tables on the lanai she walks on regularly. Walking on tables is forbidden we repeatedly tell her and we know she understands, but the cat…

    Lou Faber

  • THE NATURAL KEY TO HEAVEN

    The hawk sits on a branchlooking up at the sky, knowingthis is perfection, lifting upchasing a cloud, floating lazily. The butterfly flits from plantto plant, tasting the fruitsthat nature has given her,perfection in a single moment. The cat sleeps on a rockerthe breeze rustling her coat,until waking for dinnerwhich appears at her request. We spend…

    Lou Faber

  • ODE TO THE HOUSE CAT

    I have concluded that God created the catin a moment of exhaustion or of extreme pique.How else to explain such a soft fur covered creaturecapable at once of a gentle caress and a clawlunging out at a hand or face deemed too close.Why else this projectile constantly launchedonly at those places it was not to…

    Lou Faber

  • IN SILENCE

    Sitting in stillness, the silenceis at first shocking, deafeningin a way unimagined but there.Within the lack of sound liesa thousand sounds younever heard in the din of life.You hear the young monk at Senso-jiapproach the great bell and pullback on the log shu-moku, straining.You hear the laugh of school agedchildren hand in hand walking throughthe…

    Lou Faber