Today, all day,
I sat in a meeting
And found myself
Wondering
Wouldn’t it
be more fun
If someone was
A traitor…
From time to time
We’d break into
Subcommittees
And scheme
And then we’d draw
Our pens and cast
A suspect out
Before
The constitution
Affords the traitor
A chance to veto
Someone’s voice.
After a six hour meeting, it was good to come home and catch up with Traitors, a complete contrast!
(11.01.25)
As Hollywood burns we point elsewhere
pretending there is no connection.
Friends, there is no action hero,
no caped crusader, only us,
and with great power expenditure
there comes great responsibility.
This morning I heard about the LA fires approaching the famous Hollywood sign. Moments later I read an post about American climate change deniers pointing to other causes rather that face the possibility that man made climate change could be behind it. I know I’m to blame too, but sometimes I despair…
(10.01.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Nathan DeFiesta on Unsplash
Tricky decisions have to be made as
Round the round table divisions are played.
Against one another in plotting and scheming
In devious manoevers, of success they are dreaming.
Tripping each other with unfolding feelings
Of who they suspect of foul play in their dealings.
Respect has no place as they race to the gold,
So gather your wits or be left in the cold…
New Year, new series of Traitors, and once again we’re hooked.
(09.01.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Tyler Quiring on Unsplash
The postman delivers a set
of new mats for the car,
to stop me from wiping the mud
from my feet on its floor.
These mats all resemble the one
that we’ve put by the door,
to stop us from wiping the mud
from our feet on the floor.
My feet seem to cause so much grief
everywhere that they tour!
There must be a much better way
to keep mud from the floor…
Perhaps I’ll stick mats on my feet
with some string from our drawer?
And with no more contact there’ll be
no more mud on the floor!
I did receive new mats today…
(08.01.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Dmitry Ganin on Unsplash
I’ll never forget the day you locked yourself
out of the house. You called for help – I came.
I broke into your bathroom by climbing onto
the garage roof and squeezing through your window.
Briefly, I hooked my belt around the latch,
which threatened to leave me undressed and hanging.
A deep sense of determination was written
on your face, reminding me of Mount
Rushmore, resolute and irresistible,
a pervading positivity that said
‘this can be done, let’s make the most of it’.
Pragmatic stoicism served you well.
But in your eyes I saw hidden emotion.
I saw your caring check of those around you
and presiding pride in friends and family.
You held my eyes, revealed intelligence,
weariness, frustration at all you’d lost,
until the last page was turned and Wordle done.
Setting out the chairs today felt wrong
as one was in your place – a weekly reminder,
as if one’s needed. Soon we’ll say goodbye.
Ever thoughtful, you’ve told us what you want.
Not wearing black, we’ll celebrate as one
a resolute life in story and joyful song.
Over Christmas we lost a long-term member of our weekly lunch at church. We’ll miss her. I met with the family today ahead of the funeral. These verses emerged from our conversation.
(07.01.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by 🇸🇮 Janko Ferlič on Unsplash
The alarm went off this morning.
Outside it was dark, so dark,
I didn’t want to rise,
but had before I knew it.
I left the car at the garage.
Cycling was cold, so cold,
the tide mark rising up
dull chromatography.
The phone rang in the rain.
The call was hard, so hard.
May God’s peace match the puddles
permeating my pockets.
Once home I peeled the layers.
They’re dripping wet, so wet.
The garage rings, it’s ready –
I put them on again…
I had to take our car to the garage first things for it’s annual service. The snow and ice may have gone, but the weather was miserable. I still feel wet. The good news, however, was that there were no issues with the car at all.
(06.01.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Nicola Anderson on Unsplash
Three years on this trot
I’ve written poems today that
Share the same title
A short one today! A busy day with a great service this morning, clearing the house and decorations this afternoon, and friends around tonight to finish the season.
(05.01.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Painting by Edwin Landseer, Scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1851) (Public Domain)
Who knows what day it is this time of year?
With punctuation gone we wander through
The flowing hours, never changing gear,
And drift with nothing that we need to do.
The burbling moments trickle aimlessly
And wandering in their tide we meditate,
Sometimes parting to find some tributary
To idle in, then join to celebrate.
The space this absence gives is necessary,
Like sea around an island, it gives meaning,
Defining shape, allows us to be merry,
Highlighting that which lies behind the season.
And so with joy we join the angels’ mirth,
For Christ, God’s Son, our Saviour’s born on earth!
I originally got the date wrong when I posted my last poem. When this was pointed out I said ‘who knows what day it is this time of year!’ A good friend promptly threw down a gauntlet and challenged me to write a poem around that theme and he would do the same. Suspecting he would err towards something informal, I thought I’d go the opposite way and dive into the formal rhyming structure and second half twist of a sonnet!
(04.01.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
This lazy January morning,
we rise to the golden glow
of the winter sun, as it settles
on curtained window panes.
Descending, we duck down
beneath the glowing gaze,
and enter a monochrome realm,
a kingdom of black and white.
Beyond the kitchen’s heat,
the world divides between
two lawns of white and green
demarked by shadow fall.
Upon the glass retreat
ancient fingers of intricate
silver, etched in frosted
detail, delicate yet harsh.
It is the time of year when the sun can shine but has no heat. The last few days have been drab, overcast and misty keeping some warmth, but today these cleared…
(03.01.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Alexander Sinn on Unsplash
It transpires that January the second,
the day after the day before,
is a day for dealing with odds and ends,
for answering messages, emails and texts,
for finishing jobs and filling out forms,
finalising funerals and foodbank calls,
for sorting out servicing cars and schemes
for redeveloping kitchen floors.
In many ways this day feels like
the day before the day before…
A clear day in the diary has, after a lovely sunny walk, turned into a day of diving into and catching up on admin! It looks like 2025’s to-do list is going to be as endless as 2024s…
(02.01.25)
Ode for the Day 