Remember Freddie’s rhapsody
Nine classic minutes long to bring
Bombastic rock, triumphant pomp
The opera to the masses, darling
Before the storm a solo voice
With purity, soaring lament
In contrast with the bitterness
Contained within words of regret
Then crashing thunder interrupts
Violent vocals kaleidoscope
Inner turmoil, chaotic nonsense
Soundscape immense and intricate
Before Beelzebub attacks
The stargazer magnificent
Looks out beyond this racous gale
As finally the man repents
Be still cries out the axe wielder
And thus the storm is brought down low
Priorities fall into place
And whisper
…anyway the wind blows
This was going to be a poem about Storm Eunice, but slipped into something quite different.
(20.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Author: BenDQ
Poem 93 – Culinary Treasure
A fish ingot golden not brown
Alongside a portion of chips
Not fries but thickly cut and bagged
Salt sprinkled, paired perfectly with
A bite of vinegar splashed over
All wrapped in sweating paper, warm
Carefully rolled, corners tucked tight
And popped into a plastic bag
To take home quick, this British treasure
I drove the long straight drive to Bristol this evening. On arrival, I felt a portion of fish and chips had been earnt.
(17.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 92 – On Their Shoulders
The patient scrape
Reveals slowly
What lies below
Intrepid travellers
Descend in time
To days long gone
Attentive eyes
Remain focused
Creative vision
Forgotten hints
Slowly produce
A growing picture
Forensic care
Identifies
Our ancestors
Now resurrected
Before us those
On whom we stand
At the age of four I proudly announces that I wanted to be a professor of archeology! The nearest I got was enjoying Time Team.
(16.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 91 – Thin Places
In this place, borders smudge allowing seepage
Between our ancient fathers and ourselves
History collapses to a single point
Connections forged through timeless stones and paths
Peripheral vision glimpses walkers who
Accompany us as we follow their parade
Across symbolic landscapes forged by hand
Our feet superimposed upon their prints
The air is heavy, tingling static charge
Compelling boulders, dense with gravity
We may not understand their meaning yet
Somehow they bind us with a common bond
A couple of years ago we visited Avebury. As with visits to other ancient site such as Stonehenge, I was struck by the sense of the immediacy of the place, a connection across the millennia with many who had trodden the same paths.
(15.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 90 – The River
It was cold that night
Was there snow?
Or was it frost?
I don’t recall
We walked along the river
You wore many layers
To keep out the chill
I laughed as later
You unpeeled them
Defrosting in the pub
We went out
Starting as friends
But by the time
We’d reached the end
An unspoken change
Had occurred
We paused. I spoke it
Should we add
Another couple
To the list?
You said yes
We held hands
Electrifying
You couldn’t see but
I was smiling
It’s funny how walks
Can be so significant
A sideways step
Into a space
To reflect
To be and to grow
Soon after that
We went on another
Again you said yes
Or at least
I think you did
You certainly
Smothered me
Down on my knees
By the Thames
Again we emerged
Once more transformed
There have been many
More walks since then
As now we explore
Life’s bubbling stream
Of chaotic rapids
And lazy eddies
Together
And I still enjoy
Unpeeling the layers
That make up you
A poem for Valentine’s day.
(14.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 89 – Death in Paradise
In an exotic isle he lies
A holiday conundrum, dead
Face down beside a nagging doubt
Beneath heaven’s blue skies overhead
The case confined to just four friends
An isolated situation
But none of them could be the murderer
An alibi by others given
Around in circles twisted knots
Until, eureka! Clarity comes
A strange coincidence occurs
Connections made, the puzzle done
They gathered in a tense circle
To hear the verdict boldly laid
Before them by the canny sluth
Who by deduction owns this stage
He walks them through it step by step
By paradise’s swaying palms
Revealing method, means and motive
Our Caribbean Sherlock Holmes
A family guilty pleasure, the murderer mystery set on St. Marie might be formulaic, but we love it.
(13.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 88 – Box Set Binge
Remember when you had to wait
A week to catch the next part of
Your favourite show upon the box?
Now things have changed, diversified
There’s streaming, on demand, catch-up
And channels multiply, what choice!
The trouble is like a black hole
It pulls you in with the promise
That cliff hangers need not hang on
But now it’s late I ought to stop
As the alarm is primed to ring
But first, perhaps, another one!
We’d only meant to watch a single episode of Drop the Dead Donkey tonight, but somehow a while series had passed us by…
(12.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 87 – Risk Averse
In Africa I once saw boys
Suspended from the back of
A speeding truck ahead of us
My heart was beating in my mouth
My hand firmly clutching the seat belt
Afraid for their safety, but they
Just laughed and waved, content, at ease
Now looking back it seemed like fun
Today I wrote a risk assessment
It made me wonder if we’ve got
Our sense of risk confused because
It seemed to me there was more chance
Of my getting repetitive strain
From typing it up than any
Disaster striking those who come
To stand outside to sing a song….
Today I sent off a risk assessment for an outdoor church service. The form was extensive and not really suited to what we are planning. I can understand the need to be careful, especially in public events, but sometimes…
(11.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 86 – WORDLE
Infuriating TEASE!
This DAILY challenge comes,
Made out of thirty BOXES,
In six rows, each a GUESS,
With five letters to SPELL,
The word concealed BELOW,
And BOAST of victory.
Which word will you try FIRST,
And hope they all turn GREEN?
If not and SPACE permits,
Go WRITE another one!
However, if the FINAL,
BLOCK is filled and you’ve,
Not got it RIGHT, it is,
Too late you’ve lost Wordle.
SHAME….
Late to the game, I’ve discovered the daily fun/torment of the game Wordle, where you have to deduce the day’s five-letter word. Writing this, got me wondering why the creator opted for the name WORDLE when that has six letters. Odd.
(09.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 85 – Reynard
He came under the hedge
Dissolving then resolving
Into our winter garden
His black tipped snout came first
Emerging from the leaves
Held high in arrogance
As if to say its mine
Approaching nose held high
A russet red coat follows
Like others wearing furs
It further reinforces
His proud appearance, standing
Like Hollywood heroes
Above us mere mortals
This attitude adorned
He struts around the grass
Then job done he departs
Another property
Perhaps awaits his pleasure
A second or third home
From his portfolio
After yesterday’s black dog, another canine! Today a fox treating our garden as his caught my attention.
(08.02.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Ode for the Day 