Poem 1063 – On The Occasion of Attempting to Complete Some Simple Tasks

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In life and death one constant’s found
On that you can depend,
The need to fill out forms and then,
Fill out the very same again,
O when will it ever come to an end,
O when, o when, o when!

Have problems please connect online
And speak to a friendly bot,
Pour out your woes he’ll hear you through,
But give an answer? No can do!
By all means shout ’till you’ve turned blue,
But this is all he’s got….

Perhaps the answer’s give a ring
And speak to someone real?
I wish you luck, my friend I do,
As you search for a number to
Dial up someone you can speak to,
All life has been concealed!

Somethings these days seem ridiculously complicated or unnecessary…
(13.11.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Julia Joppien on Unsplash

Poem 1061 – Mutually Muted

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At first the words dropped from your tongue,
Stillborn sentences that tripped
And lost their way. Writing followed,
Your flowing script replaced by three
Small dots that stalled, never to be
Rebooted. Sign language followed too
And finally your eyes went mute
And silence fell.

Returning home I find myself
Turning to talk, to share my thoughts,
When recollection makes me still.
And now we’re mutually muted, a second
Silence falls.

Over the last week I’ve found myself wanting to share our experiences in Turkey with Mum, to message or call, only to remember that I can’t.
(11.11.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 1060 – Transition

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Moonlit, pale, the final
Flotilla rests listless
On the rhythmic water.
Hotel beaches packed
Away. Cicadas chirp.

Locals wearing coats;
I’m holding out in shorts,
Stretching out our time.
Turkish coffee, old men
Slam backgammon counters.

One last walk. Strolling,
Experiences decay.
Reborn as memories.
Attention strays. Earth bound
The flight’s already started.

Our time has come to an end in Marmaris, as has the season. It’s been wonderful, and I’m sad to leave, but there’ll be little left tomorrow.
(10.11.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 1058 – Nimara Mağarası

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Here time is measured differently,
Not by the ticking of a clock
With seconds, minutes, days and years
But by the gradual drip baptising,
Below with incremental tiers
That grow within this hidden rock.
Inside its yawning mouth arise
So many rows of teeth that bite
And strain towards the distant light,
From trickling brook, river and seas.

Visited the Nimara Mağarası (Nimara Cave) today on Cennet Adası (Paradise Island) within Marmaris bay. This cave has revealed evidence of human habitation and traces dating back 12,000 years.
(08.11.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 1057 -The Road to Turunç

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A jawful of biting molars rise to the sky.
The road rises, navigating their ridges,
doubling back and forth to cope. Somehow,
our dolmuş makes it too, defying all odds.
Our whitened knuckles respond in imitation,
a mountain range in miniature. We gasp
with lack of breath, snatched by the peerless view.
To think the Romans marched this way as well.

Yesterday we got the dolmuş (minibus) from near the hotel to Turunç and walked from there to see the local Roman ruins: walks, amphitheatre, and theatre. A spectacular ride!
(07.11.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 1056 – At the Pool Bar

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Granddad’s giving it large upon the dancefloor,
mobile raised in gradual circuits capturing
the vibe. Once home it’ll stay unwatched beside
the tabloid and his stash of empty cans.

Number one grandson. Teenage ‘tache
hesitating upon his lip, perched baseball cap,
fingers an invisible fag. Slouching
stylishly, he tells himself, he’s cool.

Numbers two and three are edgy and
identical, coming in different sizes.
Hair close shorn, sports top, thick golden chain around the neck, all worn with attitude.

Parents absent.

Watched Fenbaçe Vs Liverpool at the pool bar in Wednesday alongside the ‘retro party’. Some good people watching.
(06.11.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Shoham Avisrur on Unsplash

Poem 1055 – The Cats of Marmaris

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Cats, cats, cats, so many cats
Demanding our attention, obedience,
Respect and food (well mainly food, you see
They really don’t see as at all, we are

Beneath their comprehension; they distain
Our common ways). Smugly their eyes look through us.
A passing fly may have their full attention,
But not a flicker finds it’s way to us.

No! Instead they sit and yawn, then sit
Some more, then paw our legs to force
Us to attend their needs (You, feed us more!)
Never once permitting our eyes to meet.

Everywhere you look in the Turkish region of Marmaris there are cats…
(05.11.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 1054 – Time

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A book, a drink, and time,
Time to unwind and be,
Reflect upon the year
And see the paths we’ve trod,
Noting the ones we missed,
Take stock, and breathe, give thanks,
Remember who you were
And raise a glass in love.

A much needed break after a manic year full of unexpected twists and Mum’s passing.
(04.11.26)

© Ben Quant 2026