Saturday, August 8, 2009

Beauty


A couple of years ago, this poem earned me the runner-up gong in the Darebin literary competition.

It's not fantastic - the rhythm's clumsy, and perhaps it's twee.

But it reveals how I felt on the day Nikos was born. And I like to remember my own awe.

Beauty

That fat word,
‘beauty’,
waddling about engorged
in magazines and art gallery small talk.
I find it trimmed down,
lean,
hard,
in the bloodshot eyes,
salty upper lip,
and bloodied amniotic Miro-strokes,
of my wife’s heaving torso;
and in the blinking squints
of my squirming son.

3 comments:

Rachel Fenton said...

Your wife had the baby, and you got the award!

Ruth Quibell said...

Thank you, Day, for this poem for Nikos and me.

Long before it won any award, it was simply a celebration of us becoming a family. It was such an important moment, which would have been lost without it.

(And I don't think it's clumsy or twee! But perhaps I'm a tad biased...)

Rachel Fenton said...

Ruth, you deserve a medal! It is a lovely poem and you sound like an adorable family.