Entertainment

Poem 38 – A Hokey Cokey Time of Year

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Tentative November’s a folk dance month
Unable to decide if it’s out or it’s in
Leaves bravely clinging to branches above
Fallen companions raked into the bin
The sun always rises but never quite makes it
Descending before it reaches the top
Fireworks shrill as Fawkes interrupted
But bombers press on and their plots do not stop
The eleventh we remember but still stand conflicted
Pushing and shoving to remain best of the lot
Decisions announced but next day rejected
Political turnarounds made on the spot
Superstore isles full of crackers and tinsel
Seasonal adverts promise festive fun
Christmas is here piped music’s proclaiming
But November’s not finished nor Advent begun

I always find November a confused month, a strange transition from one season to the next with Christmas looming large in the distance. This confusion seems to be seeping into our current affairs this year.
(18.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021
Photo by Bryan Ledgard – https://www.flickr.com/photos/ledgard/10254453475/, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=58259782

Poem 36 – Dominoes

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Tiles shuffled and randomly selected
Balanced precariously, curved to conceal
A cheer reveals double-six located
Centrally placed, the game begins
Turn by turn our counters are chosen
Tension ratchets as silence descends
Only grunts of relief or tapping the table
Nowhere to go, delaying the end
Time ticking down
Furiously counting
Plans played out
Strategies discounted
Players passed by
Blows traded
Tiles running out
Sudden flurry
Hands crashing
Dawning realisation
I’ve lost and they’ve won!

Tuesday lunchtimes our church holds the ‘Drop-In’, inviting folk to come and share a light lunch and company. Once the meal is over the dominoes come out and the banter is replaced by serious competition…
(16.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 33 – Our Voyage

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Our childhood heroes bid farewell,
departing to journey alone
Leaving us grasping in denial
snapshots of the view
These faded polaroid stills of seventies
sequins, flares and hair
Agnetha and Frida back to back,
Benny and Björn smiling on
Perfect harmonies as the crowd dance
to their Swedish lilt
From Waterloo to bittersweet
when all is said and done
Were we naively hoping the picture
would pick up where they left
Or did we believe them to be like us
as we deceive ourselves
Frozen in time when in truth all age
and those glamorous skinsuits
Might no longer look so good on
bodies that have travelled the years
Is the discovery anticlimactic that
they’re not Peter Pan
And whilst the voices clearly belong
something has definitely changed
But I for one will cheer as they
look back upon their voyage
Because the tide of time likewise
nibbles my being’s shore
I do not want to live regretting
its tender gradual erosion
But satisfied survey each step and
content embrace the view

Feeling a little wistful today having just listened to the new ABBA album, aware of both time passing and the richness that its passing can bring.

(12.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021
Photo By Anders Hanser – http://www.mynewsdesk.com/se/abba-the-museum/images/abba-the-museum-the-choir-250208, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44782676

Poem 22 – Are We Not All Heroes?

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This summer we made pilgrimage
Briefly escaping Covid’s shadow
Blinking as we entered the light
Of Cardiff’s sun kissed halo

There with the tentative throng
We explored its proud sites
From the castle idiosyncratic
To mist veiled surrounding heights

We marched around it’s harbour
Leaning into the red dragon’s breath
That blew across boat filled waters
Our path encompassing its breadth

But as we walked we paused awhile
By a shrine with trinkets bedecked
Left in honour of a hero lost
By earnest admirers memory kept

Who was this man, what was his merit
The deeds that demand such respect?
Why Ianto Jones they did reply
Welshman of Torchwood, most adept

Puzzled I left for I knew of him
For he had graced my screens
A hero not of real life, you see
Concocted in another’s dreams

How can the death of one not living
Made up, existing just in story
Capture the imagination of those who watch
Achieving real life glory?

What of us I wondered as we left
Who battle daily to survive
Without such glamour yet endeavours true
Will our memories remain alive?

This summer we managed to take a holiday just outside Cardiff, a city I’d never visited before. I loved it, especially its castle whose eccentric internal decor was a wonderful surprise after its traditional outer shell. As a sci-fi fan I insisted on visiting Ianto’s shrine, a tribute to the character in the Doctor Who spin-off, Torchwood, who topically dies as a result of being exposed to a lethal virus. Seemed surreal that a character in a TV-drama should garner such respect when so many true heroes go unnoticed.

(02.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 19 – Globe Spell

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To compose an ode in honour of The Bard
Whose famed lines ensnare hearts
From stages encircling this precious globe
As well as from upon it
Is a task too high to reach

Instead I shall write in praise of those
Whose mouths have uttered his enchantment
Weaving spells through speech inspired
To whisk us from this mundane life to
Distant islands, courts and faery realms

Owning this sacred space these mortals become
As gods with creator’s power to form
The world anew for a few brief acts
Transforming landscapes without and
Landscapes within

And here we dwell until the final cheer
Echoes from its stalls and as one
We rise in awe to praise before
Returning to our mortal homes
His lingering whisper remains


Shakespeare’s Globe is one of my favourite places, a haunt where magic still happens.

(29.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 15 – First Post-Lockdown Gig (Reprised)

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Waves of nostalgia crash
Upon that human sea
Gathered in one place to sing
Beating in unity
Arms outstretched as one reach out
Rock and roll god on view
‘Radio’, our one last cry,
‘Someone still loves you’

The final song of Roger Taylor’s set from yesterday’s gig was Radio Gaga, which he wrote. To stand in the crowd clapping the signature clap is an awesome thing, looking around seeing a see of people clapping as one. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to do this as part of the crowd at Wembley. As I did so, I found myself wondering if this will be the last time I do so with a member of the original band playing in front of me.

(23.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 14 – First Post-Lockdown Gig

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Queues ensnare the theatre
A human lassoo, snaking
Jostling for position with nervous interrogation
Is this the right one?
Reassurance offered with a shrug
I think so
Friendships of proximity initiated
Transitory, later abandoned
Once settled the lull
Nothing to do but wait
Disturbed only by the request
To check bags or Covid passes
(A disturbing novelty still)
Hidden beneath the quiet
Starting positions are taken
Twitchy, false starts repeated
Until (on your marks)
The doors (get set)
Open (go!)
Then the sprint
Eventually lights drop
Music fades
Hush
An expectant pause…

Written whilst in the queue to see Roger Taylor’s solo show at The Shepherds Bush Empire

(22.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 10 – Take Five

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As Dave’s Quartet begin to play Paul Desmond’s piece
I find myself asking what can be achieved
In this most frustrating length of time
Not sufficient to take on a major task
Like cooking a meal, taking the kids to school
Or saving the planet
But not too small to ignore
Long enough to play a tune, perhaps
Boil a kettle, read a letter
But only if you’re ready when the time begins
No room to get prepared within its span
‘Cause when the countdown counts the pressure’s on
Is five minutes long enough to compose a song,
Tidy a room, polish my shoes or pen this poem?
Turn back the clock!
Take five?
Five is not long enou….

The first thing in my diary this morning was taking a school assembly on Jonah, which was a delight, doing it as an embarrassing Dad rap with audience participation and beats. But all set and ready to go I found myself with five minutes to spare and wondering what could fill that time…

Dave’s Quartet refers to the famous jazz outfit, the Dave Brubeck Quartet, famous for their hit Take Five, penned by their saxophonist, Paul Desmond.

(18.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 6 – To Boldy Go…

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No longer has no man been before
Because he, our childhood’s captain, finally went
Taking off whilst nearing his final frontier
That common countdown which all approach
Strapped secure, he faced the black abyss
Before briefly free from bodily constraint
Knowing perhaps a foretaste of future bliss
Until mass once more became weight
Returning back toward the blue planet
And terra firma firmly beneath his feet
Ecstatic smile described upon our screens
Captain Kirk’s come home

Inspired by the journey into near space by William Shatner, the actor who played the part of Captain James T Kirk of the Starship Enterprise in Star Trek, at the age of 90.
(13.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Image by NBC Television – eBay itemphoto frontpublicity release, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16442606

Poem 3 – Here Be Dragons

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Here be dragons
And spaceships
Lost temples
With treasure
And quests
And beer

Here be laughter
And sorrow
Bewilderment
And longing
And hope
And fear

Here be dungeons
And dragons
And character sheets
With friends
And dice
And cheer

A lifelong hobby has been playing tabletop roleplaying games, a wonderfully social and imaginative pastime. This was written before heading out to a much anticipated day of gaming with friends after the Covid pandemic had kept us physically apart for 18 months.
(09.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021