an old writer and his words

  • WITH EYES WIDE CLOSED

    Between this moment and the next lies an unbridgeable gulf that the mind leaps with great ease, never looking back, or down into the abyss. It is only when the body stops, tries to grasp the space between, that everything collapses and falls into itself until all that is left is improbability.

    Lou Faber

  • ARCHER

    The work of the bow is done when the arrow takes flight, when the vibration of its string is recurved into stillness. But what of the archer now having let go, can only await the fletched arrival. If the target falls will the bow know the pain, will the archer, will the fingers hold the…

    Lou Faber

  • MEMENTO VIVERE

    The moment arrives suddenly and appears at your feet, threatening to trip you into the hole of time that marks the edge of this moment as it once did the one before this. If you stand perfectly still You may move forward with the easy grace of enlightenment.

    Lou Faber

  • THINKING MAKES IT SO

        Words, words, words Polonius, it’s all this damn book is full of, but don’t let it bother you, for your time is so limited, I’ll see to it soon enough. It’s the price of doing the bidding of the devil. Did you really think it would be otherwise? This is, remember one of…

    Lou Faber

  • MU MONKAN

    Walking on the road today, I didn’t see the Buddha and thus had no need to kill him. I did find what I thought to be a dog’s Buddha nature, but it proved to be nothing- ness, so I walked on through the gate that led exactly nowhere. This evening it rained and I picked…

    Lou Faber

  • A SCREAM

    Then there are the days when extracting words feels like extracting teeth, and there is no Novocaine for either my pen or me. If you hear a scream, just ignore it please, it is only the agony of a poem’s death throes.

    Lou Faber

  • TIME OUT

    She is fond of saying that time is on our side although we both know that time does not take sides, is incapable of action, is passive in passage. It is something of which we may never have enough but we are certain no one has more than we in this moment. She cannot imagine…

    Lou Faber

  • THE WATCHER

    He stands transfixed on the bridge, arms outstretched, staring at the river always flowing slowly by below. He wears a garland of gold, an inscription in Hebrew, the holiest of holies, mocking those who hold him a man. Did he peer out of the corner of his eyes as they marched them across the bridge…

    Lou Faber

  • LEGACY

    We often believe that the best way to honor the dead is to praise them. When my time is gone, do not praise me for your praise will fall on deadened ears. If you believe in the power of the word speak aloud in my name, if you dare, commit the deed as you believe…

    Lou Faber

  • LIVING

    They sit in a small wine bar on an out-of-the-way street in an out-of-the-way city, she sipping a Oregon Pinot Noir while he is on his second Alsatian Pinot Gris. She asks him if he ever thinks about death. He peers into his wine glass, than at her and smiles a gentle smile, “I don’t,”…

    Lou Faber