Month: Oct 2025

Poem 715 – Some Song for the Weekend

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I woke to an ear-worm wriggling in my mind,
a whisper of a melody, a hint
of background music that nestled into my thoughts.
Its theme persisted in my breakfast dish,
developed in my morning’s meditations,
and found a nest within my walking rhythm.
Having gestated for the day, by evening
it broke free. Born in my unconscious humming
it found life in this evening’s congregation.

Today has been a day spent looking forward to seeing The Divine Comedy at the Barbican. Their new album has been the perfect backing track.
(11.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 714 – Moonlighting

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Wisecracks, one-liners, knowing looks
Join sassy walks and L.A. flats
Fat kipper ties and shoulder pads
The swelling sound of mellow sax

The fizzing tension between the leads
Temperature’s rising getting hot
Solving cases when all seems lost
With angry flirting on the job

Before Die Hard our action hero
Joined a model for a different tack
Maddie and David return tonight
Our guilty pleasure, Moonlighting’s back

Returning to the 90’s tonight with the discovery that Moonlighting’s available to stream on STV Player.
(10.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 713 – The Tree of Life

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Opening your cover, I fall
into your leaves, cavort
within your canopy.

Peering from high pages
I penetrate horizons,
unveiling fresh perspectives.

I gasp for breath, my mouth
gapes as I drink them in.
I feel my glossary grin.

Amongst your paragraphs,
I find so many marvels
I’m made drunk and giddy.

In time, I turn to find
your spine, your trunk, that holds
these fruitful words together.

Downwards, I trace its bark,
descend its lines, to delve
the deep, dark earth’s embrace.

Following your fingers,
I find forgotten facts
indexed amongst fine roots.

Young sentences disperse,
spinning sycamore wings.

My entry for the poetry competition held by Hertfordshire Libraries this year to celebrate their 100 anniversary. The competition required submissions that were 100 words long.
(09.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Jan Huber on Unsplash

Poem 711 – Famous Faces

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I nearly bumped into Nigel Havers once.
He was leaving the Tube on a raining Notting Hill
evening, collars upturned to hide his face.
Another memorable night, I found myself crushed
against the seat of Terry Gilliam. I waited
for something completely different, perhaps a giant
foot, to descend upon my cartoon head.
It never came. And then one time we walked
across a Cambridge park. A familiar figure
passed the other way. We said, ‘hello’.
He nodded and walked on by without a word.
With a blush we realised we only knew him from
the telly. There were others, comedians on
theme park rides, news readers on the streets,
soap stars at outdoor concerts; so many famous
faces. It raises the question, when they meet,
do they discuss the time that they met us?

Sparked by a conversation today with Dad when he asked if I knew anyone famous.
(07.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Photo by Eduardo Unda-Sanzana from Antofagasta, Chile • CC BY 2.0

Poem 710 – The Nottingham Coast

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This gentle green descends towards the horizon
which laps around its edge in waves of cloud.
Surprisingly, the playful sun is out, its
autumnal heat washes over us,
awakening birds that shriek in joyful play.
We walk, my father and I, along the hedgerows
reaching like groynes into the fields, alert
to fungi, berries and other harvest gifts.
Strolling along this Nottingham coast we let
it roll over our toes with grateful thanks.

Dad and I went for a delightful walk in the Nottingham countryside today, regretting in the surprisingly summer-like weather.
(06.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ries Bosch on Unsplash

Poem 709 – Fighting for Sleep

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Tonight I lie to sleep in my parents’ house
having defeated the attempts of the sofa bed
to prevent me from doing this horizontally.
Head bolt upright? I don’t think so! Neither
my feet to the floor. In increasingly frenzied moves
our engagement played out, a midnight wrestling bout,
featuring twisted limbs, contorted faces,
until at last, it finally yielded its secrets.

Just wrestling in a poem before midnight…
(05.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Krista Mangulsone on Unsplash

Poem 708 – Escape Room

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Today we made it
Our jail we escaped it
Our puzzles’ completed
Mystery defeated
Where once confounded
Our lives now unbounded
We live now to take on
Another new day

I put together an escape room for our church harvest social tonight. They did really well and made it to the other side!
(04.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Mohamed Marey on Unsplash

Poem 706 -Blessed are the Poets

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Blessed are the poets, those
Committed to verse not violence.
Blessed are the sonnet seekers,
The writers of limericks not slander.
Blessed are the hawkers of haikus
Over the dealers in harassment.
Blessed are the simile speakers,
The makers of metaphor not meanness.
Blessed are the rhymers, rhythm
Keepers, word smiths, dreamers, rappers,
Revealers of a world unseen.
Blessed are the poets.

Written on National Poetry Day, on a day of war in Gaza and Ukraine and an attack on a synagogue in Manchester, whilst the far right rises, and power seeking populists posture. Longing for a better world.
(02.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Trust “Tru” Katsande on Unsplash