an old writer and his words

  • RETURN

    He arrived todayalthough none saw him coming.He had been here before,been quickly ignored,despite his pleas and prayers,they twisted his wordsto suit their venal desires,his message forever lost in translation.They were not ready,and in their hate fueled world,they might never be.

    Lou Faber

  • ASKING

    Asking saints to intercedeis something quite new to me,having never considered that saintswere people whom I might seek out. I’ve started carefully, onlyseeking saints who hangon my family tree, Margaret,Itta, Begga, Adela, Arnulf, and I’ve vowed to ask nothingfor myself, for karma willsee to me one way or another,so I ask only for those in…

    Lou Faber

  • WE WANT, AGAIN

    We want to cry out,but we have no words. We want to screambut all we give is silence. We want to curse the invaderbut cannot be heardover the tanks, bombsand rockets. We want to mournbut there are so manyinnocents, wheredo we begin? We want to act,but we are incapableand can offeronly silent prayer.

    Lou Faber

  • APPROACHING NIGHT

    Arising into nightthe departing suntangos away with its cloud,memories soon forgotten. Other dancers take the stage,now a romance, nowa war dance, feathers raisedin prayer to unseen gods. Night will soon bringits curtain across this stage,the avian casts’ final bows takenthe theater will darken, awaitinganother performance,a new script tomorrow,but for this solitary momentof frozen grace, it…

    Lou Faber

  • SIX FEET UNDER

    I remember the afternoonwas cold and damp, with a persistentdrizzle that escapedthe clustered umbrellas,the sky a blanket slowly sheddingthe water that soaked itas it sat out on the clothesline. I suspect you would haveliked it this way, everyone in attendance,everyone shuffling their feet,wanting to look skyward,knowing they would see onlya dome of black umbrella domes.…

    Lou Faber

  • MUSING TOKYO

    1 In Asakusaamid the stallsof trinkets and swordswhy do the gaijinall speak German,Italian, Spanish and Swedishand English is reservedto a couple if Nisei. 2 In a small laundromatin Akasakaan old womanclucks and shuffleson wooden sandalspulling kimonosfrom the dryer.My t-shirtsare still damp. 3 In Shibuyathere is a smallstorefront pet shop,its windows fullof cat ryokansome with bedsothers…

    Lou Faber

  • A HUMBLE RECEIPT

    Hands touchsilentlyいただきますwe humblyreceivethe meala prayerof thanksto allwho plantedwho harvestedwho soldwho boughtwho preparedwho enabledいただきますsaid each meala silentreminderof thanksitadakimasu

    Lou Faber

  • CONVERSATION

    Arising into nightthe departing suntangoes away with its cloud,memories soon forgotten.Other dancers take the stage,now a romance, nowa war dance, feathers raisedin prayer to unseen gods.Night will soon bringits curtain across this stage,the avian cast’s final bows takenthe theatre will darken, awaitinganother performance,a new script tomorrow,but for this solitary momentof frozen grace, it is wewho…

    Lou Faber

  • ABSOLUTION

    The birds in the wetlandspeak to me in my dreams,telling tales of what this placewas before we arrivedand forever changed it. They don’t curse us, althoughthey remind us we are cursedby our own actions, butthey do pity us, ground boundliving in our own waste. In the morning the birdshave disappeared, a fewvultures carrying off the…

    Lou Faber

  • A PRAYER UNANSWERED

    When I was a child, a Rabbi told methat I did have the ability,to be used sparingly always,to petition God for some good. I filed this away with other storiesfrom the Torah, pillars of salt,stone tablets, a flood worse thanthe one that filled our basement. At some point I needed something,recollections are fortunately vaguenow, and…

    Lou Faber