Poem 845 – A Türkiye Sundae

Apr 8, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The tips of Turkish mountains rise above
the whipped cream clouds. Upon their ivory crests
the trees appear like sprinkled treats. I long
to taste their paths and tread their ancient streets.

What gain in winding around its many layers;
consuming but never making it to their end?
The unexpected view of nature’s gifts,
the joy of exercise and being spent.

The hills around Olüdeniz are calling. Planning a good walk in then at some point during the week we’re here on the old Lycian Way.
(08.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 844 – Soon After Take Off

Apr 7, 2026Apr 8, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The wings extend, reaching for the horizon.
There the gentle earth curves from our sight,
whilst up above the hazy blue invites us
like freshly laundered duvets. We dive in.

Below the fields stretch out, a honeycomb
of every green from darkened moss to sun,
detailed by hedgerow lattices and throbbing
tarmac veins. Soon distant trees compress.

Lazily we rise and patterns change
blurring in their complexity and scope.
Individual fields combine. Gradually
we dissipate and all is reconciled.

Flying to Turkey in an unexpectedly sunny morning.
(07.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 843 – Easter Monday

Apr 6, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Divine comedy
The full-stop has been erased
A dead end no more

Traditionally today is a day for practical jokes, the original April Fools Day
(06.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Kim Leary on Unsplash

Poem 842 -Easter Sunday

Apr 5, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

No teenager’s room, the clothes
were neatly arranged, the face
cloth folded to the side –
no need for panic here.

There’s no runaway or theft,
no missing person to file,
just hope born from a stone
casually tossed away.

A quick poem at the end of a busy Easter Day.
(05.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Dylann Hendricks | 딜란 on Unsplash

Poem 841 – Easter Saturday

Apr 4, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Tomb like, the chrysalis hangs
inert and stoney cold.
All breath has gone. Death’s boney
touch is resident here.

What was has gone, the door
is sealed, its full-stop placed.
What hope, that nagging whisper
of a different punctuation?

The day after the day before? Or the day before the day to come.
(03.04.26)

Poem 840 – Good Friday Conundrum

Apr 3, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Two outstretched arms
Pinned like a butterfly
Collected under glass,
Its beauty cruelly faded.

A rigor mortis shrug
Perpetual question posed;
What does this execution
Mean? And why like this?

Two thousand years on and this question still demands reflection.
(03.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Wim van ‘t Einde on Unsplash

Poem 839 – Gethsemane

Apr 2, 2026Apr 2, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The air was replete with birdsong,
Heavy with light and life
But that was in the day
And now the night has come.

With darkness’ descent,
The breeze is suffocated,
Breath evacuated,
And every song is stilled.

Watch the flowers close,
Hiding their colours, concealing
Faces, whilst ancient olives
Turn their crinkling backs.

Look, one by one their weighty
Eyes begin to droop,
Joining the garden’s slumber.
Now see! The soldiers come.

Today we remember the Last Supper after which Jesus and his friends head out to the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus was arrested. The opening line came from a walk this lunchtime in Lee Valley Park which was glorious with birdsong; a counterpoint to my reflections on the day.
(02.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Stacey Franco on Unsplash

Poem 838 – Questions for Judas

Apr 1, 2026Apr 2, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Did you spring up those final nervous steps,
Or walk with heavy heart and dragging legs?
Was it laced with anger, your request?
A sense of sadness, or perhaps regret?
Did you expect a welcoming embrace,
Or fear closed faces turning you away?
What did you expect to get in exchange,
How many coins made up the going rate?
What led you here? What fueled this giving up?
And when did you discover your mistake?
Thirty silver coins does not sound much;
How much did you expect this deed to make?
Was your life dictated by the sword?
Or did you for love betray your friend and lord?

Judas has always intrigued me. He is only recorded as asking one question of the chief priests, ‘What are you willing to give me?’ I have a lot more that I would ask him.
(01.04.26)

Poem 837 – Holy Tuesday

Mar 31, 2026Apr 1, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Matthew 21:18-22

The fruitless fig tree withers,
its barren branches bend
contorted in their thirst,
a dry and desperate end.

Besieging soldiers’ swords,
the temple stones are torn
one tumbled on another
a crumbled carcass scorned.

A cursing Christ decries
the poverty of their lives
the lack of love that’s seen
no faith, no fruit, just leaves.

Today’s Holy Tuesday of Easter week, the day Christians traditionally remember Jesus’ cursing of the fruitless fig tree and the fruitlessness of the Temple this symbolised.
(31.03.26)

Poem 836 – Holy Monday

Mar 30, 2026Mar 31, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

In deft defiance, an act of holy disorder,
The tables are turned within the Temple Courts,
And many moneychangers made to moan.

An act of targeted terrorism or
The perfect protest made to pillory
The priests’ hypocrisy in oppressing the poor.

In judgement Jesus stands for the Gentiles, calling
For peace and prayer, not spiteful separation,
Aiming his anger at their acts of partition.

Today is Holy Monday, the day that Christians traditionally remember Jesus’ protest in the Temple.
(30.03.26)

Ode for the Day

An experiment in poetic doodling