an old writer and his words

  • GOOD?

    She used to ask me if I had a good day.It was a loaded question for there wasno good answer in her view, it was reallyjust rhetorical, something you saidto avoid talking about your ownfeelings and emotions at any given moment.She expected me to complain about allthat did not go as planned, whereuponshe could roll…

    Lou Faber

  • HOGEN’S BY BOAT OR LAND

    When the teacher asks youwhy you came to see himwhat will you answer?If you ask him a questionhe will sit silentlywaiting for you to answer.If you simply nodand bow he will smileand you may leave fulfilled. A reflection on Case 51 of The Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • THE SURANGAMA SCRIPTURE’S NOT SEEING

    It happens every day,when I arise from the cushionand look, I see myself there.If you look, you say you see me as well.It will happen one daythat when I arise from the cushionand look I will not see myself.If you look, you will say you see me,and I will nod in agreement.Each day when I…

    Lou Faber

  • CORAGYPS ATRATUS

    They sit on the barren tree staring at what we cannot fathom. They are strangely beautiful creatures and utterly odd looking as well. Their black plumage is entrancing, more so when put on display by extended wings. But inevitably it is their head and neck that draws the eye. Gray against the ebony of their…

    Lou Faber

  • MIRROR MIRROR

    The person I see each morninglooks vaguely familiar, perhapssomeone I once met in passing,or maybe a distant relative.But he was so much olderso he was difficult to place. I do say hello each morningbut get only a nod, a gesturein response, as if the personis mute, for he smiles backso it is not a silence…

    Lou Faber

  • NO BIALYS TODAY

    No one looked up when the Buddhawalked into the deli and took a seatat the counter, “Pastrami on rye, andlean, with mustard on the side, and twoslices of full dill and a side of slaw.” As he sipped the Dr. Brown’s CreamSoda, the waitress smiled at him,asked, “Are those robes comfortable,winter isn’t all that far…

    Lou Faber

  • WEAVING

    She plucks the odd loose thread puts it on the table and finds another and a bit of what could be twine. She weaves them together loosely, with seeming abandon until they are an ill formed braid barely hanging together, a jumble of color and fabric, a true hodge-podge. But when she says to all…

    Lou Faber