Poem 10 – Take Five

As Dave’s Quartet begin to play Paul Desmond’s piece
I find myself asking what can be achieved
In this most frustrating length of time
Not sufficient to take on a major task
Like cooking a meal, taking the kids to school
Or saving the planet
But not too small to ignore
Long enough to play a tune, perhaps
Boil a kettle, read a letter
But only if you’re ready when the time begins
No room to get prepared within its span
‘Cause when the countdown counts the pressure’s on
Is five minutes long enough to compose a song,
Tidy a room, polish my shoes or pen this poem?
Turn back the clock!
Take five?
Five is not long enou….

The first thing in my diary this morning was taking a school assembly on Jonah, which was a delight, doing it as an embarrassing Dad rap with audience participation and beats. But all set and ready to go I found myself with five minutes to spare and wondering what could fill that time…

Dave’s Quartet refers to the famous jazz outfit, the Dave Brubeck Quartet, famous for their hit Take Five, penned by their saxophonist, Paul Desmond.

(18.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 9 – Morning View Across Lea Valley

From my seat I survey the slumbering valley
Low-lying haze lingering awaiting the sun
Still air not disturbing nor whisper ruffling
The feathers of the stationary wood pigeon
Its solitary sentry, perched a top its pole

A murmuration glides elliptically sweeping
Forerunners perhaps of the morning’s wake
Pylons bisecting, stark across the horizon
Lone hint of humanity otherwise obscured
Except bare rooftops from this bedroom view

But gradually grey infects the day’s potential
Draining greens and yellows from tree and field
Viewed across this dip through which the Lea drains
Thames-ward to empty its life-giving waters
Rain’s curtain descends, this scene comes to an end

A rare breakfast in bed this morning afforded me a view out of our bedroom window across the Lea Valley. It seemed I was not alone in a slow start, with the view equally languid other than a flock of starlings sweeping past.

(16.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 8 – An Ode to the Harvest Festival

Why celebrate Harvest in our technological age
When food is sown, grown and reaped afar
Arriving prepared, cooked and packaged in film
Just 3 minutes at 800 watts and voilà

Is this an annual grasping of a lost idyll
A pastoral dream of bygone days
An imagined ‘Good Life’ where we’re all farmers
For one day without pressures and rain

Now we’re encased in our towns it’s irrelevant
Shielded by wifi and data and 4G
When a click of a button summons crates to our doors
Full of tins, plastic trays and our tea

Perhaps now our harvest is on Instagram
In a zoom meeting or on a stage
A harvest of ideas and creation
Of electricity, fears and dreams made

But hasn’t the last year exposed the fallacy
Of systems frail that quickly become fraught
Locked down in our home we can no longer see
The shortages that we’ve bought

The queues at food banks become longer
It seems that we’re all overdrawn
Is it time for us to stop and ponder
Is it because from its source we’ve been shorn

Have we learnt that our harvest is precious
Farmers, drivers and shopkeepers too
Perhaps after all this celebration
Is a relevant thing to do

As a Fen boy, the annual Harvest Festival seemed a natural thing to do, after all I grew up surrounded by fields full of corn and farmers complaining about the forecast downturn in the weather. But now I work just outside London and this world seems far away. Every year as I lead our Harvest Festival as a minister, I find myself asking the question, what does harvest mean here, and wondering if we need to broaden its definition to include all forms of fruitful endeavour. Perhaps this last year, however, with the pandemic, panic buying and pressures on supply lines has highlighted once more just how important our food and its harvest is.

(15.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 7 – Thank you for the Harvest!

Thank you for the Harvest
For farmers who grow and reap
Sow the seed, sow the seed
Drivers to bring ingredients we need
Brum brum, brum brum
Factory workers who parcel up
Pack in the box, pack in the box
Shopkeepers who sell in their shop
Beep, beep, beep, KERCHING!
Parents who buy and cook
Sizzle, sizzle in the pan
For us to eat…..
YUM, YUM!

This morning I had the joy of leading our local schools Early Years’ Harvest Service. Harvest in our relatively urban area doesn’t have the same relevance as it did in my childhood in the Cambridgeshire Fens, surrounded by farms and fields, and so I thought I’d try and bridge the gap and make harvest a thanksgiving for our food’s journey and all involved. It was a delight having a row of six children at the front acting out each part with the whole hall joining in! Perhaps my next ‘ode’ will be a more adult reflection on the relevance of Harvest in our technological age, but for now, say it out loud, make up some actions and have fun!

(14.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 6 – To Boldy Go…

No longer has no man been before
Because he, our childhood’s captain, finally went
Taking off whilst nearing his final frontier
That common countdown which all approach
Strapped secure, he faced the black abyss
Before briefly free from bodily constraint
Knowing perhaps a foretaste of future bliss
Until mass once more became weight
Returning back toward the blue planet
And terra firma firmly beneath his feet
Ecstatic smile described upon our screens
Captain Kirk’s come home

Inspired by the journey into near space by William Shatner, the actor who played the part of Captain James T Kirk of the Starship Enterprise in Star Trek, at the age of 90.
(13.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Image by NBC Television – eBay itemphoto frontpublicity release, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16442606

Poem 5 – Sunrise

All was dark the moment before
As if we were all that was
But somewhere a whisper awakens
Summoning workers to their chores

Stoke up the furnace ’til it’s ready to roar
Then open its door just a crack
So a halo of pink might outline the roofs
But once there, there’s no holding back

Its torrent boils over the floodgates
Pours into the heavens above
A writhing of rust, amber, vermillion
Persimmon and cadmium clash

It’s urgency rages in anger as
Blazing fiery fury erupts
It’s bright stallions charge onwards relentless
‘Gainst night’s shield wall defending its thrust

The darkness regrouping intensifies
Its blackness seems blacker than death
But nothing can hold back dawn’s progress
Triumphant its glories cascade!

As fast as the battle was opened
Dawn’s turmoil is over and done
Morning’s light is finally upon us
Its peace so violently won

Inspired by a dramatic sunrise that turned the night’s black to morning through a brief but vivid display that lit up the sky
(12.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 4 – Reconfiguring

I’m reconfiguring, please wait
Change is required before it’s too late
To patch a weakness, catch a bug
Software constantly up to date

Was I not flawless at the start?
A babe born perfect for its part
Yet by miscreant code led astray
From that perfectly formed piece of art

So please be patient, give me time
Keep me plugged in, it will be fine
A work in progress, not finished yet
I’m reconfiguring through craft Divine

This poem was started after an ill-timed Windows update rendered our church laptop out of action just as it was needed to project song words and stream our service. It finally completed its reconfiguring an hour and a half later, just as we finished. This got me wondering what it would be like if we could download updates and Jesus’ words about being born from above… Took me a couple of days to get this how I wanted.
(11.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 3 – Here Be Dragons

Here be dragons
And spaceships
Lost temples
With treasure
And quests
And beer

Here be laughter
And sorrow
Bewilderment
And longing
And hope
And fear

Here be dungeons
And dragons
And character sheets
With friends
And dice
And cheer

A lifelong hobby has been playing tabletop roleplaying games, a wonderfully social and imaginative pastime. This was written before heading out to a much anticipated day of gaming with friends after the Covid pandemic had kept us physically apart for 18 months.
(09.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 2 – Out Of Reach

Through the window, the world’s a blur
Wet paint smudged, colours blended
Features distorted, faces unclear
Unknowable, seen through a glass darkly

These hints of a world unrealised
Create a painful tension
Taunting, teasing,
Near but not yet here

Finally all becomes clear
My reading glasses remained in place
When lifted from their nasal perch
The world reconfigured, made anew

I wonder though…
Do I still see through obscuring lenses
Which if similarly removed might reveal
A better world, as yet concealed

Today’s poem was inspired by a trip into the kitchen with my reading glasses on.
(08.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 1 – An Ode to National Poetry Day

Today is National Poetry Day
So I guess I ought to write a line
Or two
To express what’s on my mind
Or in my chest
Nestled up beside that beating drum
That is my heart

I sit with pen poised above the page
In truth, fingers above the keys
And pause
Searching for a profound thought
To share
But truth be told, except for the decision to write
The cupboard is still bare

Inspired by a combination of Paul Cookson’s daily poems on Twitter and discovering it was National Poetry Day. Wondered if I could do something similar and write one a day for a month or maybe more…
(07.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021