Tim Fab-Eme: ‘Claribel’
Claribel
You’re a map of myths and mysteries
cast in the paeans that possess me
mirth dusts your face like rough diamonds
on the skin of the rising Sun
I can’t bask in your warm laughter
without your charm etched on my mind;
for example, your mouth’s a rose petal
oozing peace in a time hate infests
our sickly world with guns and bombs,
it holds more books than a library
each tooth a classic I’ll write someday
I come to you, my muse, I
come as a friend, lover, and man
to weave this web of luscious dreams.
Your eyes are moons on my planet
soft and serious at once, like life,
transmitting the text of my next thought
yet I come to you, naked, unashamed
like a child, amused by your grace;
the parakeet said I am the song
you warbled in your sleep, and rehearsing
as you yawned out of your bed,
it was my name your neighbour heard
remixing all the highlights of your soul
it bears the buds of a beginning
as we sit here peeling our doubts
the way my mom skins small cocoyam
and we sit…
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
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6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
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23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
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2 mins