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
Relationships
Poem 80 – The Job
And did those feet in ancient time walk here?
Of course not! But I wonder if he came
What would he think about his legacy
Entrusted to the care of those he called?
Would it be recognisable to him
Whose name it bore? I hope so but I fear
That it might leave him flummoxed as to how
It came from what it was to what is now
But this should come as no surprise, as he
Has always lived outside, skirting around
The edge, living with those we overlook
Whilst we who he invited to come in
Our natural tendency is closing doors
To make ourselves feel safe and in contrast
Alas, to what we were before we met
And so, forgive us Father and moving
From Blake’s Jerusalem to Italy
Switching between establishment and heist
We pray, come blow those bloody doors away!
A counterpoint to Poem 79…
(28.01.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 72 – Collateral Damage
To me this feels familiar and strange
Conflicting feelings jostle dissonant
It’s a relief to finally be back
Albeit we’re masked and social distant
Somehow, however, we’re now out of phase
Alternative dimensions are our homes
Like Schrödinger’s famous experiment
We’re both together and it seems alone
We watch each other from the corners of
Our eyes avoiding contact if we can
A living photograph doubly exposed
Collateral damage from Covid’s bans
Last night we went to see an episode of a sitcom being filmed (Andy Hamilton’s ‘Kate and Koji’). We watched a number pre-lockdown and it was lovely to be back, but noticeably the interaction in the queue and set was lacking, as if everyone else wasn’t really there.
(14.01.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 69 – Ancient Roots
I spat in a tube this morning
To find out who I am
And then that tube was posted
(Apologies postman!)
Of course there’s more to me
Than my genetic code
There’s everything that’s happened
On life’s long winding road
But I have always wondered
Where my tribe came from
Are my roots in Britain
Or do we have it wrong
Perhaps they are Germanic
Or Scandi, French or Switz
African or Asian
But whatever’s on my list
This fair land has shaped me
And others influenced
And through this cultural cocktail
My life has been enriched
I have always felt a ‘spiritual’ connection to the ancient past of our country, and am intrigued to know if my roots go back to the age of barrows and white horses, but whatever the result of my test, I won’t be disappointed as even through romantic eyes, I know this nation has never been racially pure but mixed and all the better for it.
(11.01.22)
© Ben Quant 2022
Poem 62 – The Morning After
There is no cordon around the house to warn
Nor grim faced officer to bar our way
But on the inside awaits a grisly scene
Come in and see the evidence arrayed
This is the room where the events transpired
Remains of celebrations on the floor
The shredded tatters form outlines around
The places where their bodies sat that morn
Now see upon the table evidence
Identified and ready to photograph
Betraying crumbs a trail perhaps to follow
Wine glasses marked by lips that last night laughed
Then out the back you’ll find their bins all full
Of waste unwanted, clues of what has been
And deep within the usual trash concealed
A cold carcass, discarded, bones picked clean
Back in again to question the witness
Who yawning talks us through the scene at hand
Identifying gifts and turkey bones
Such evidence echoed across the land
The morning after Christmas you could work out from the wreckage where everyone sat to open their gifts, reminding me of the white outlines marking where the body laid in police dramas…
(29.12.21)
© Ben Quant 2021
Poem 55 – Power Pick and Mix
If you could choose a super power what would you choose?
Would it be flight so you could soar above the clouds?
Unrivalled strength perhaps or maybe turn
Invisible for mischief, fun and games?
Alternatively opt for freezing breath
And make our Christmas dreams come true with snow
Or twist and turn with bendability
That stretchy flexi human miracle!
And yet it seems to me that none of these
Can solve the greatest problem that we face
In vast metropolis or village small
Of how to lift not weights but loneliness
Not seeing through with piercing x-ray eyes
But looking into souls with loving grace
Watched the first episode of Superman and Lois on BBC iPlayer today…
(10.12.21)
© Ben Quant 2021
Poem 54 – Treasure Trove
The sleep filled night’s reset allows this day
To offer bounteous riches graciously
Announced by dawn’s gold highlights on
My lover’s waking face laid next to mine
A friend then calls and asks me how I am
His care uplifting, lightening my load
Shared precious memories fluttering into view
Whilst I sip on my morning cup of tea
My diary open, it reveals unborn
Appointments all arrayed awaiting birth
These sparkling stones upon the jeweller’s shelf
Inviting me to reach and put them on
My trove today seems full and overflows
Its wealth the envy of all chancellors
Is it like this each day, I wonder, but
In haste I’m blind and unappreciative?
A series of early incidents caused me to ‘count my blessings’ this morning.
(09.12.21)
(Edited to improve the rhythm)
© Ben Quant 2021
Poem 42 – The UnProdigal Son
I knew the story but wasn’t certain
Exactly what prodigal meant
So I looked it up and I’m glad to say
That my son is not it
Although he left university bound
He didn’t have the gall
To request his share of my estate
As if I’d met my end
I’m glad to say his student loan
Hasn’t been blown upon
Wild student parties and loose living
A mad freshers’ week fling
But even though that isn’t him
It definitely doesn’t mean
I don’t love him with a father’s love
And rejoice when he comes home
Our son has been home to visit for a few days, it’s been lovely to see him!
(23.11.21)
© Ben Quant 2021
Picture: “The Return of the Prodigal Son”, by Rembran(d)t Harmenszoon van Rijn, c. 1669 (Public Domain)
Poem 32 – Opportunities Lost
I wish I’d asked but youth does not
Appreciate the finite opportunity possessed
By the time I realised time’s scarcity
Those doors were shut
What was it like as a youth yourself
Once island locked to bid goodbye
Leave familiar shores, be evicted abruptly
Those doors were shut
Sail to alien lands with brothers unknown
Fight famine, plague, war and face death
Grim conflict without, peace lost within
Those doors were shut
Finally coming home to family changed
Moved on in life without your presence
Faces altered but you’re the stranger
Those doors were shut
How could you cope with enduring such sorrow
Those vivid scenes secretly stashed away
A simple return to normality that couldn’t be
Those doors were shut
Armistice Day (11.11.21)
Edit: I reworked this overnight, not being completely happy with it before, especially the final stanza.
© Ben Quant 2021
Armistice Day (11.11.21)
© Ben Quant 2021
Poem 27 – Silence
It is not empty, so
Those in matured relationships
Need not feel obliged to
Fill every moment
With words
They can simply be
Not threatened by silence
Nor disturbed by
What is left
Unspoken
Content to be vulnerable
Before the other’s thoughts
Trust fills the gaps
And plasters over
The pauses
I’ve been married for 27 years. This week in isolation has underlined the simple yet profound pleasure of simply being in the same room together. Thank you K. As a Christian, this pleasure and these verses point towards the human-divine relationship too.
(06.11.21)
© Ben Quant 2021
Ode for the Day 