an old writer and his words

  • PUEBLO CHRISTMAS

    The night is that bitter coldthat slices easily throughnylon and Polartec, makeschild’s play of fleece and denim.The small rooms glowin the dim radiance of propane lightsand heaters as the silveris carefully packed awayin plastic tool boxes.The pinyon wood is neatly stackedin forty pyres, some little tallerthan the white childrenclinging to their parents’ legs,some reaching twenty-five…

    Lou Faber

  • SOULMATE

    He had been lonelyfor as long as he could rememberalways wishing for loveor a relationship he could call love.That emotional emptiness hadbecome crushing and he knewhe had tried every possible option:church groups, singles events and bars,and countless dating sites and apps.He read that some like him,had turned to AI to createwhat his life was lacking.He…

    Lou Faber

  • THRIFT STORE

    It was small and a bit cramped,down thankfully solid stairsin the basement of the church.Thrift stores, charitable ones,tend to inhabit basements as ifthe red dress, clearly worn butwith tangoes left in herwasn’t ready for the light of day.And on a nearby rack isthe Army jacket, still neatly pressedit’s buttons shiny saying Inever saw battle, the…

    Lou Faber

  • SEASIDE

    The ocean wind sweeps through the citya sudden rain washes sidewalk, shop, and street,carries both dreams and sins back to the sea. For the young child time slides by easily,life a campaign that allows no retreat.The ocean wind sweeps through the city, rattles church windows, so that all can seethe priest stripped of dogma. Christ…

    Lou Faber

  • HABIT

    When you say, she said,that you are a creatureof habit, I have a hardtime imagining you asany sort of nun, or evena monk for that matter. Perhaps, he responded, Ishould emulate KingHenry and start my ownspinoff church, wherethe priestly vestmentswould be jeans and tees. But I would require thatparishioners not weartie dyes on Sunday andCrocs…

    Lou Faber

  • SUNDAY MORNING

    Every Sunday morning my parents,usually my father at mother’s directionwould drive me the four blocksto attend Sunday school. I could easily have walked, a longblock and a half by cutting through yards,but they were afraid of I haveabsolutely no idea what. My friends that weren’t there with mewere probably in church soit wasn’t like I…

    Lou Faber

  • LEAD ME NOT

    Strange as it may seem,I was tempted to considerCatholicism, not the Roman kindbut that of the breakawy churcheswho accept all, gay or straight,married or divorced, the wholelot of mankind just because. They do believe in heavenwhich is a good alternativeto the Bardo, and having choicesis a good thing even in death. I was truly tempted…

    Lou Faber

  • ZOOM ZEN

    In the middle of a rouund of zazenI hear the bells of a nearby church,although I am nearby no church. Zen teaches you to be presentin each moment, to be immersedin and not witnessing life around you. The bells break my struggleto not think, they introduce timeagain where there should be none. Just as soon,…

    Lou Faber

  • CHURCHES

    I have already visitedcountless churches basilicas, shrinesand admired the art, the simple beauty,free of liturgy and belief. I did not stopto pray, to implead, merely to see,to listen, to absorb. for I was a Jew.a nonbeliever in a Christian worldsilently tolerated. Now, I have learnedI was only half Jewish, half, hidden a polyglotof Christianity, a…

    Lou Faber

  • APSE SOLUTION

    One downside of growing upJewish is that you never meetan angel or a church mouse I have met angels, although theywere in the guise of Bodhisattvas,and there are a surprising numberif you look carefully enough. As to church mice, I do haveto wonder why they are symbolic,for they have vast homes,direct access to God, orthe…

    Lou Faber