Poem 471 – Sailing Solo

Mar 31, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Thirty years on and I’m still not bored
of being in your company;
we fit together you and I.
But sometimes I fancy some time to myself,
to do the things that you’re not into.
When those occasions come along
I make grand plans and varied lists,
and look forward to my solo adventures.

Perhaps I’ll ride my bike all day,
looking magnificent in lycra.
Or stay in bed and read a book,
from cover to cover, under the covers,
only emerging for food and drink.
Elsewise, I’ll grab my guitar, and cranking
up the volume to eleven, master
tricky licks and guitar god poses.

But when the day arrives, I find
myself unmoored, adrift in aimless
seas, wishing the silent hours
away, waiting for my rescue.

A restless weekend on my own.
(31.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Little John on Unsplash

Poem 470 – Back on Track

Mar 30, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Today the clocks all say different times,
My sense of moment has been totally scrambled.
My brain is slightly discombobulated,
My words are coming out confused and jumbled.

The only saving grace is in the bathroom,
Where last autumn I forgot to change the clock,
Since then its screen has been an hour out,
But now I find it is, at last, tip-top!

Very bleary today after the switch to British Summer Time. It would be today that I had a delivery slot scheduled for between 7.30-9am – that’s 6.30-8am in yesterday’s time… Yuk.
(30.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash

Poem 469 – BST

Mar 29, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Tonight, a theft,
As time is taken,
Some sixty minutes of
Sleep deprivation.

Swiped from under
Our weary eyes.
Predictable,
Yet still a surprise.

But do not fear,
This thief relents,
Each and every year,
And pays recompense!

Don’t forget the clocks go forward tonight (in the UK). Who will turn up an hour later for church tomorrow!…
(29.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Brooke Campbell on Unsplash

Poem 468 – Side A

Mar 28, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

I slip the vinyl from its paper sleeve,
carefully cradling it with my outstretched fingers,
holding it gently like a newborn babe.

Placing it tenderly, I dust it with a cloth
then brush the needle clean. This tactile ritual
just as important as the sound produced.

The customary crackle. ‘Hello old friend’, I smile.
The soundtrack of my youth plays on with only
the occasional interloper interrupting.

Have I reached the groove at record’s end
that leaves us turning on an endless loop,
or does the promise of a second side remain?

Working late today, listening to Roger Taylor’s ‘Outsider’ album. The record may be fairly new, but the voice is a long familiar travelling companion.
(28.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 467 – Enforced Intermission

Mar 27, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

For one afternoon
we had no internet.
The world didn’t end,
at least, not in real life.

No doubt the fires raged
on social media as
celebrities were cancelled,
politicians vilified,
and wild views justified.

Football pundits were stilled,
pop-up adverts burst,
and the only cookies crunched
had chocolate chips – no trolls
were fed today, just me.

Maybe Artificial
Intelligence took my place,
an algorithm wore
my face. I’d like to think
you’d spot the difference.

Our telephone
is still not working.
The silence lingers.
Oh what bliss…

Today we swapped broadband providers, and for one wonderful afternoon we were cut off.
(27.03.25)

Hear me read today’s poem

Poem 466 – All of Life

Mar 26, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The studied silence of commuters,
Construction workers crushed with suits,
Upholstered seats in faded colours,
Ear-pods, phones and dog-eared books.

An orthodox Jew and white haired woman,
Young men crushing energy drinks,
A foldable bike and terrified dog,
Covid masks, the missing link.

Abandoned news and empty cups,
Suitcases held, anticipation,
As one we brace against the brakes,
A carriage waiting for the station.

A poet writing daily verse,
Romeo seeking Juliet,
All of life crammed in one train,
From Montague to Capulet.

I had to travel into London for a meeting today. As always the tube was full of characters.
(26.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Pau Casals on Unsplash

Poem 465 – An Avian Revival

Mar 25, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

We sit outside, enjoying Spring’s fresh sun,
sharing a cup of tea and conversation.
The heavens’ freshness is invigorating,
shining light into wearied Winter limbs.

We aren’t the only ones awakened by
the afternoon’s blue opportunity;
the sky swells with ranks of choristers,
alert, their chests puffed out with jubilant song.

Performing bass, the racket of the rooks erupts,
joining the tree-born tenor pigeons’ coos.
Insistent great tits drill their alto beats, as
greenfinch glissandos trill in soprano splendour.

At the finale’s final flourish we file
out of the garden, aware that we’ve been treated
by a most marvellous rendition of this
anarchic avian anthem. We applaud.

Yesterday afternoon, I sat outside with my parents, ensuring the weather and the glorious birdsong.
(25.03.25)

Poem 464 – In the Dark

Mar 24, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Even though
The end draws nearer
The passing miles
All seem the same

Trip to my parents today. The journey seemed quick in daylight, longer at night – worth it to see them though!
(24.03.25)

Poem 463 – ‘Hannibal’ Moments

Mar 23, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Remember those sliding puddles?
I had one as a child. Too many
hours spent moving numbers back
and forth to get them all in order.
The temptation to prize them out
with a screwdriver was always present…

Often life can seem like that;
sliding a piece into the right
place causes others to drop out.
Occasionally, however, there are wonderful
A-Team moments when everything falls
into place and the plan comes together!

I’ve been fighting with the mix for the livestream of our services. Getting everything balanced and at the right volume has been a constant challenge. Today, however, it all dropped into place.
(23.03.25)

Poem 462 – Missing

Mar 22, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

All was quiet the first time we walked here –
except for the birds. The birds were singing loudly,
so loudly in fact that their melody hurt our ears.
Later, we learnt they were actually quieter than before, only now, devoid of cars and people,
their melody could actually be heard.

We walked this way again, today, without
the fear of meeting others. This time it was
the cars that shouted, roaring as they passed,
angry, desperate to be moving on.
I could see the birds were screaming but
their tortured song was muffled, faint and lost.

Five years on from the start of the pandemic, Spring is here, and with it the birds’ melodious song – if you can hear it, that is.
(22.03.25)

Ode for the Day

An experiment in poetic doodling

Month: Mar 2025