an old writer and his words

  • BARDLESS

    Laertes was supposed to visit mein my dreams last night,but Iago texted that they bothwere suddenly otherwise engaged. There is a strong possibility, of coursethat this was just another instanceof Marlowe trying to wreak havocwith my ever more precious sleep. Tomorrow I will recall none of thisfor the day ereases my dreamsmuch as the sun…

    Lou Faber

  • INSIDE THE PAGE

    She asks innocently,listening to the wind whisperingthrough the bare branches of the oak,“How long have you livedin this poem,” pointingto the page of markedand remarked typescript.He looks at her as if discoveringshe’d grown another head,peeking out from betweenher well-polished teeth.“I have no idea what you mean,”he says, “I write the poems—it is up to you…

    Lou Faber

  • A SIMPLE SONG

    It’s simple enough to write a song,that’s what I heard him say,and though I doubted that whollyhe say try, just give it a day. I promised I would try to writebut I knew that I’d fail in timefor even Leonard Cohen nowand then used a subtle rhyme and that is not something for whichI was…

    Lou Faber

  • A SONG FOR A LOVER

    It is hard, looking back, to recalljust how many hours I spent searchingwith a fair amount of diligence for justthe right song to express my love.Most often I would find it,but only after that love had beenreplaced by another, demandinga new song — you cannot usethe same song for two different loves,that crosses well over…

    Lou Faber

  • 3 TANKA

    Antphonal songs Mockingbirds greet the morning Great Blue Herons stare imagining their voices night sweetly welcome the dawn The great temple bell awaits the morning, the monk, its daily purpose cast deep within the metal always verging on release Smoke of incense too prostrates itself to Buddha soon a morning breeze promises enlightenment or the…

    Lou Faber

  • DEEP WITHIN

    The finches sweep from bush to feeder in a gentle inverted parabola appear head high with a pride reserved for those who fly. The chain link fence is for them no barrier but a honeycomb of perches, full on a warm February afternoon, their song threatening to silence the heart of winter.

    Lou Faber

  • The question of the day is would you rather be a turtle or a snail, not to be sung to any melody by Paul Simon. Think carefully, for one day the question will have real impact and you will get your answer with a permanence that merits the most careful consideration. Today may or may…

    Lou Faber

  • A MISTAKE IN SPEAKING

    When you speak the words of the Buddha you are lost. Light is everywhere in silence but the tongue must hide in the dark of the mouth. Buddha’s words are flowers unfolding in the dawn by the side of the still pond, the eyes hear the song and respond in silent chorus. A reflection on…

    Lou Faber

  • A MORNING PRAYER

    My words are carried on the winter morning wind echoing off the obsidian mound and shattering in silver crystals reflecting the frigid sun. The barren moon recedes as my son, the wolf, ravens devouring knowledge of the world, listening to the song of the dolphin. She is a rose, soft petals fluttering thorns poised to…

    Lou Faber

  • A MISTAKE IN SPEAKING 無門關 三十九

    When you speak the words of the Buddha you are lost. Light is everywhere in silence but the tongue must hide in the dark of the mouth. Buddha’s words are flowers unfolding in the dawn by the side of the still pond, the eyes hear the song and respond in silent chorus. A reflection on…

    Lou Faber