There’s nothing so sweet
As the Saturday treat
Of lying in bed
Such a lazy head!
Off to church Sunday morning
No doubt I’m still yawning
Singing songs to our maker
There’s nothing much greater
But when Monday comes
And the alarm starts to drum
And pounds in my head
Oh how I long for my bed!
A rare treat of a lie-in this morning. Much appreciated.
(14.09.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Sander Sammy on Unsplash
Does TV beckon?
Time travel thirty-two years
Serve at the foodbank
Write a daily thought
Prepare a final goodbye
Do Toddler accounts
Cook veggie curry
Stick to a difficult no
Tidy the kitchen
Reflect on Greenbelt
Catch up with the family
Write today’s poem
It’s been a varied and busy day, not unusual in my line of work (church minister). When trying to write a poem a day, on days like this the haiku comes to the rescue. Here are four of them.
(28.08.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Eric Rothermel on Unsplash
Last night was the night
that the storm came to town
shouting, ‘I’ll huff and I’ll puff,
and I’ll blow your tent down!’
But we weren’t deterred
by the threats that she made
we gathered here regardless
ignored her tirade.
So she huffed, and she puffed,
with all of her might,
she blew at the tent,
through all of the night,
it wibbled and wobbled
like one of mum’s jellies,
it lost all its structure
like a middle aged belly,
but every single time
that she thought she had won
it would pop right back up
to the place it’d begun!
Storm Lilian visited Greenbelt last night, with 40mph winds. The star this morning is a slow one as the site is made safe – much festival kit was not put up beforehand just in case. It’s not going to put use off though!
(23.08.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
I’m at my desk with pen in hand
or fingers on the keys,
I really ought to be getting on
instead I feel unease.
There’s something squatting in my mind
right where my work should be,
a mental barrier holding back
my productivity.
I keep on putting it aside,
whilst grasping my mind’s reigns,
only to discover that
I’ve picked it up again.
Perhaps the perfect answer to this
wretched predicament,
is to give in to it and to give it all
until my joy is spent.
My fear, however, of this tactic,
is if I give it a go,
the joy will never ever cease
and ever onwards flow.
And so to solve it instead I wrote
a poem about my plight, and
now back to work I must return
and hope it’s put to flight!
Returning from holiday to work is always a challenge… especially when another break, this time at Greenbelt Festival, soon beckons.
(19.08.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Caleb Woods on Unsplash
For five days in Scotland my true love packed for me….
Five bat-ter-ries
Four khaki t-shirts
Three pairs of socks
Two walking boots
And a can of insect repellent
Almost all set for five days under canvas near Blairgowrie… (Batteries for the lantern!)
(09.08.24)
[ x ] Today’s
[ x ] To-Do list
[ x ] Is nearly
[ x ] Done
[ x ] Just one
[ x ] More job
[ x ] To do
[ ] My poem
I’m going on holiday soon, can’t wait! The catch is this means a longer to-do list this week…
(07.08.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
I’ve games all about collecting birds
and games about surviving in caves
I’ve games that are about belonging to the herd
and games about driving trains
I’ve games that are set in outer-space
and games in a sprawling city,
games about the future of our race,
and games about its history
I’ve games that feature mechanical robots
games about King Arthur
games about goats that are racing to the top
and games that are full of laughter
I’ve games about architects, assassins, kings,
and even bishops too,
and Romans, Scots, Merlin fighting
and Picts all daubed in blue
Boardgames, boardgames everywhere
and not one have I won.
What else can I do for my breakthrough
but buy another one!
I have invested in many boardgames over the years and keep getting beaten. This doesn’t seem to quell my obsession though.
(06.08.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
I tried another way
But found it didn’t stick
So starting from today
I have abandoned it.
I must regain the habit
Of writing every day
Because life becomes drab if
All work, no rest or play
I’ve changed the way I’ve been working recently, embracing the wonder of Obsidian md to organise and link together my work and ideas. I thought it would be great to write my poems there as well, but somehow this simply led to me stopping writing. I’ve now reverted to scribbling them in Google Keep, which makes it easier to write in odd moments and on my phone.
(09.03.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by John M. Smit on Unsplash
If I were to post poems on Facebook would
that make me a Meta-physical poet?
If, however, I put them on Insta’
do I purvey convenient rhythm?
And don’t forget poor Twitter X
a place for adult-rated verse.
But truth be told as time is tight
and looking over my lines tonight
the persistent rhythm of the beating clock
perhaps my perfect home’s TicTok
In a recent talk I mentioned the metaphysical poet John Dunne. It was pointed out that perhaps I’m one too because I post poems on Facebook; it took me a day before the penny/pun dropped and I laughed aloud to myself walking along the Thames! This poem was perhaps, then, inevitable, although it’s taken a couple of weeks to get it posted.
(17.02.24)
Catching up on poems from the last few days…
A little weary, out of rhythm,
we rise to scattered festive relics.
An anecdote is told about
a former poet laureate.
Required walking to clear our heads
and settled Christmas lethargy.
We stop to feed Egyptian and Canadian
geese and opportunistic pigeons.
Back home it’s time for lunch, comprised of
yesterday’s offcuts before
a most unexpected reprise,
“You know that story? I missed a line,
‘I woke besides the ugliest woman…'”
A true story…
(26.12.23)
© Ben Quant 2023
Ode for the Day 