an old writer and his words

  • IMPEDIMENTS

    Pause for a moment and considerwhat you truly think of the window,stared at but never seen, at worstan impediment, at best a shield.Is that why it gathers dirt and dust,a vain attempt to establish a presencethat we quickly try to deny again.Doors have an easier time of it forwe must acknowledge them, bidthem a handshake…

    Lou Faber

  • GAZING

    She says that for a small fee shecan guide me through my prior lives,introduce me to former loves, let mewatch the battles in which I fought,shield me from scenes of battlein which I died or was wounded.She says I will see many I now knowin my present, recognize how wewere once connected so our presentconnections…

    Lou Faber

  • I HATE THIS

    I am not a person who hatestoo many things, and fewer people.I say that in my own defense, foryou have asked me to list my hates,and no one, anywhere, save perhapsthe Dalai Lama, is free of hate.so here goes my short list.I hate polluters and those who carenot at all for the world in whichwe…

    Lou Faber

  • IMAGINE THAT

    There is a certain joy in writing fiction,for many readers will assume the protagonistis the author or at least partially basedon the author, never pausing to considerthat the villains and lesser charactersare just as likely to be based to some extenton the author or bits of his or her life.And often the readers are not…

    Lou Faber

  • AND COUNTING

    How many timeshad they almost metover the years before that evening? What if the Fateshad allowed meetings,what would have changed?Likely everything, nothing,for when they might have metneither was available,he a student imagining himselfalready in love, or both marriednever thinking those relationshipswould possibly end in divorce. And how many times had theybeen in the same placeseparated…

    Lou Faber

  • WORDS, WORDS, WORDS

    They can have sharp edgesthat wound on contact, some cutsso deep they leave lasting scars. They can get stuck in the throatuntil you feel you can no longerbreathe, no longer cry out for help. They can lie there, anaggregate always acretingand yet rejecting any meaning. Or they can, carefully chosenpresent great beauty, offerhope, promise freedom.…

    Lou Faber

  • EN ROUTE

    We spend so much of our livesimagining we are en route,always on the way to somewhereif often not certain where thatsomewhere might be. It seems we intensely dislikenot being in motion, not focusedon the future, the destination,never wanting to be, seemingto dread being static. Yet the irony is that we,at any given moment, arenever en…

    Lou Faber

  • CANINE

    The dog refuses to walkaround the house and checkthe driveway, and sothe shells will rain on the villageas they do each time she senses fear. She has a sight beyond thatI can fathom, curled underthe heat vent, as thoughthe cries of children carryin her dreams, her taildances against the grate. On most nights when she…

    Lou Faber

  • DAITSU CHISHO BUDDHA 無門關 九

    Twenty thousand generationsa hundredhundred livesthe briefest momentin being, there isno becoming, no leaving and nothing is attainedfor there is no needof attainment, Seijowhispered tono one. A reflection on Case 9 of the Mumonkan (The Gateless Gate Koans)

    Lou Faber

  • COUNTING TIME

    I was honored to have this recently published in Arena Magazine: A Magazine of Critical Thinking, Issue 162 from Victoria, Australia This river has for endless time flowed from the distant hills on its winding path to the waiting sea. The river has no need of clocks, cares little whether the Sun, Moon or clouds…

    Lou Faber