Entertainment

Poem 802 – A Word Out Of Place

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A word out of place is ….. awkward
It forces us to walk around it,
navigate its corners carefully
lest we should bump ourselves.

The temptation is to ….. shout,
ironic really when you think
about the reason for its angle.
But grace is difficult and costs.

Grace calls on us to be the ones
who ….. hold the tower up when things
begin to topple. This may be
against the rules we share but such is ….. love.

It’s such a shame that what should have been such a celebration of John Davidson’s work at the BAFTAS was turned into something else.
(23.02.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Michał Parzuchowski on Unsplash

Poem 772 – Cyberbarn!

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It was only the size of a postage stamp,
a pixelated blur that came and went
with sound that didn’t match the picture,
but it was a kind of magic back then.

Transported to your Surrey garden,
six-hundred thousand strangers streamed
down phone lines crossing continents
into this tiny buffering barn.

We held our breath and squeezed into
that distant doorway, willed the image
to appear until its spluttering
sounds and colours burst to life.

In awe we cheered distorted sounds,
squinting to make you out across
the many miles that lay between us,
clapping, we hoped, in unison.

Could we be hyperlinked? Connected
through our screens? It seemed surreal.
But now HD, the wonder’s leeched
become mundane and yesterday.

I’ve been working on a painfully slow internet connection today. This reminded me of watching Roger Taylor’s record-breaking concert ‘Live at the Cyberbarn’ on dial up internet. How quickly things have changed!
(See: https://www.rogertaylor.info/facts-and-trivia/accolades/the-guinness-book-of-records/)
(25.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 769 – Round Table Quandaries

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The knights are gathered
With swords unsheathed
A castle divided
Round table split

Plans have been hatched
The end comes soon
Destruction draws near
Its seeds have been sown

The Traitor and the Faithful
Are sat in their seats
Mordred and Arthur
But which is which…

Watching the penultimate episode of Traitors with no idea how it’s going to open out…
(22.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Pascal Bernardon on Unsplash

Poem 763 – The Traitors Shields

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To steal, or not to steal, that is the question:
Whether ’tis better to grasp immunity
And run the risk of being banished, or
To face the blows of traitors’ bows and arrows?
Which fearful fate is worse: to walk or sleep;
The paranoia of the table or
The letter on the chair that passive slays?
Whichever choice is made, the chance is real:
‘Cos other’s hands the dagger doth employ,
Considering options that perchance destroy.

Loving The Traitors again this year, what gripping TV.
(16.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Albert Stoynov on Unsplash

Poem 709 – A Voyage through Voyage

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‘I’m going to ABBA tomorrow’, he said
Fantastic, I replied. I’d heard
so many good things about the show,
and how the holograms seemed so real.

Not having seen the gig myself,
and wanting to add to the conversation,
I started to talk about a show
that I’d just seen the night before.

I saw a jolt upon his face,
a mental change of gear, but ever
composed and mindful of the other,
he quickly engaged with what I’d said.

Realising, perhaps, that I had moved
too quickly from his coming joy,
I returned the conversation to
our quartet of Seventies songsters.

His features creased a merry crease,
‘I must have miscommunicated,
I didn’t mean the sequinned Swedes,
but Aber as in Aberystwyth!

The moral of this mutual blunder?
The danger of assuming shared
perception, a common understanding,
obvious isn’t always so.

A comic conversation from this morning that makes a perfect illustration.
(23.11.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Andrew Ebrahim on Unsplash