an old writer and his words

  • NO I WILL NOT

    NOTE: TODAY’S POST FOLLOWS BELOW: Dear poetry-lovers,           Thank you from the bottom of my heart for following my blog. Some of you have been daily readers since it began 9 years ago, some are more sporadic or more recent followers.  Thank you one and all. As you can imagine, it takes a fair amount…

    Lou Faber

  • IN DREAMS

    In my youth so many of my dreamsseemed full length novels, on occasionsome were serialized over several nights.That did not last of course andas I aged medicine stepped into keep my pressure in checkand the magical diuretics decidedI could get by with dream novellas,which were certainly preferableto the other option, fabula interrumpirBut I continued to…

    Lou Faber

  • FROM 1 TO 10

    Modern medicine has made great advancesbut there are still things that seemabsolutely, positively medieval.The chairs in the waiting roomborder on almost comfortable,but in the examining room,since you haven’t yet been invitedup onto the padded table,the chairs are utilitarian at best.And then the moment when the docasks about your pain leveland you eventually sort outwhen he…

    Lou Faber

  • MY RABBI (PART 1)

    If you ask why I am a BuddhistI will tell you there are a myriadof possible reasons, choose one,or take this one, it fits nicely. I am in college, pulling my gradesup to mediocre, thoughts of medicinegone, law only faint on a distant horizona master’s degree away. I visit my childhood rabbi, a manwho has…

    Lou Faber

  • I WAS, BACK THEN

    Fifteen years ago, I tell them,I was invincible, nothing bothered me,nothing held me back and eventhe few surgeries were shortrest stops on a runner’s highway. I knew it would last forever, Iknew I was kidding myself. Now, aging, I am held togetherby titanium and injections,trying to fall apart withas much grace as possible. My little…

    Lou Faber

  • CAREER CHOICES

    We were certain then that we’d bea success in life, that we’d drivethe kind of cars our fathersonly dreamed of as our motherschuckled about mid-life crises. They spoke about sons and daughtersof friends who were doctors,or at least lawyers, bemoanedthose who taught or held jobsthey called manual labor. But we were going in a whole…

    Lou Faber

  • METASTASIS

    She could barely move her head the cancer climbed her spine reaching upward, clutching vertebrae reaching out, tendrils grasping tearing fragile organs. She would cry, but that would be an admission of defeat, a welcome to death. I cried out for her, entreated our God for compassion that she might stand by her sons when…

    Lou Faber

  • WE CAN FIX THAT

    He is only four years old, has decided he will be “an X-ray doctor” in a few years because he wants to see broken fingers and legs, but if he sees bad things he can take them out and throw them in the trash. He is more perceptive that even he can imagine for without…

    Lou Faber

  • LA MER

    Next week we will walk along the beach and periodically stare out on the ocean. The waves will wash in and out, and one will look much like the last and the next. If we get out early enough, perhaps we will sit outside a café across the road from the beach and drink our…

    Lou Faber