an old writer and his words

  • AMUSEMENT

    Life, he said with his ever present smile,is very much like an amusement park.The preacher, priest, rabbi standsat the ticket booth, gladly taking your moneyand telling you to have a good time,but reminding you of the penaltyfor not following the rules he or shehands you, neatly bound and printedin longer or shorter versions dependingon who…

    Lou Faber

  • A RUNG TOO HIGH

    He is fully stuck on the hornsof a dilemma from which hecan see no way to extricate himself.He needs to get up on the roofand patch the hole beforethe storm shortly arrives full force.The old wooden ladder that hasbeen lying along the sideof the house is far too heavy for himto maneuver into position and…

    Lou Faber

  • KYOZAN POINTS TO SNOW

    When you comesearching for a keyto unlock the doorto NirvanaI will ask youto completea simple task.All you need to dois go to the oceanand select the onedrop of water differentfrom all of the others. A reflection on Case 26 of the Book of Equanimity, 従容錄, Shōyōroku

    Lou Faber

  • SPRING

    She says her favorite monthis May, when spring’s gripis tightest, but most of allshe cherishes the rain.She is intimate with the rain,there is a privacy that onlyshe can concede, if she wants.She can take a drop of rainand it is hers alone, she needonly share it with the sky,it is always clean on her tongue.She…

    Lou Faber

  • THE LOBBY BAR AT MIDNIGHT

    Ann Arbor a certain diffidenceButte born of three rum CollinsCarmel the Gucci show windowsDuluth darkened, forebodingErie escalator rattleFairbanks a sound coffinGrapevine grand pianoHilo the restaurant emptyIthaca seeking dinersJacksonville by the exit signsKalamazoo conventioneers droolLincoln and slobberMemphis over the ankh necklaceNatchez girl cross leggedOakland engulfed in smokeProvidence the ficus droopsRehoboth in the shade of the barSalem…

    Lou Faber

  • FOR RAIN

    The clouds build slowly, turning the sky from blue to ever darkening shades of gray. He hopes it will rain, rain heavily, as the ground is parched, the wetland a bog, and the birds have moved on in search of water. He watches the build up, the clouds accreting, and he waits for the first…

    Lou Faber

  • FREEZE FRAME

    When you see a photograph of a dropof water hitting a still pond, you realizethat it is nothing at all like what you see. The photo freezes time, and that is whywe are so taken, for we want nothing morethan to slow or stop that unerring arrow for we know all too well where its…

    Lou Faber

  • THE WEIGHT

    There is a heaviness to the sky a weightiness belied by the gray of the clouds, even the departing sun seems to whisper that it will be replaced by rain in short order. You feel the weight bearing down, as the heat of the day dissipates, and although the first drops have not yet fallen,…

    Lou Faber

  • THANKFUL

    She said I should be thankful that I am not a rice farmer. She said that I should be thankful that I am not over seven feet tall, and not  less than four feet eight inches, although she concedes that four feet nine would not be  cause for celebration. She says I should be thankful…

    Lou Faber

  • DROPPING IN

    He drops suddenly from a branch of a tree which you don’t see for all of the others. He lands a foot from you, you pause suddenly and he looks up at you, trying to determine if you are friend, foe, or lunch. He concludes you are not lunch and scurries off under a nearby…

    Lou Faber