Relationships

Poem 460 – Let Me Paint You a Picture

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

The other night we gathered.
Not around a fire like
our predecessors but
around the table with
the plan of telling tales.

We started with the story
of our days. We shared frustrations
our triumphs, hopes and dreams;
wielding brushes to paint
the scene we wanted seen.

And then our make-believe.
A painting of a haunted house
investigated by
our alter-egos, bravely
searching for the truth.

Its strange, but when I hang
these portraits side by side,
there’s no denying that
the brushstrokes are the same.
Two different worlds connected.

Today the news, more stories.
A splash of colour here
a daub of darkness there,
all vying for opinion,
surreal, unreal or real?

Stories within stories.
Landscapes created by
our conflict. Colours clash
and mix, until we find
some truth emerging from them.

What is truth? I suspect that’s the question of our age. I’m increasingly aware of how we reveal and hide the truth within the stories that we tell.
(20.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ahmed Raza Kz on Unsplash

Poem 440 – The Extent of My Knowledge

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I am ignorant of the life you’ve lived.
I am ignorant of the world you live in.
I am ignorant of how you feel.
I am ignorant of what for you is real.
I am ignorant of what has moulded you.
I am ignorant of what controls you.
I am ignorant of its expectations.
I am ignorant of its revelations.
I am ignorant of your aspirations.
I am ignorant of your hesitations.
I am ignorant of the shoes you chose.
I am ignorant of the shoes you’re given.
I am ignorant of what you want.
I am ignorant of what you need.
I am ignorant.

Inspired by my conversations today in both pastoral visits and at our Conversation Cafe. I’m astonished by how little I know of the world, and how little I appreciate or recognise the experiences of those around me.
(28.02.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ben Weber on Unsplash

Poem 428 – Two Friends

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The simple joy
Of an evening spent
With two old friends

Two friends whose lives
Have intertwined
And accompanied ours

Two friends who shared
Our wedding day
(But sadly not with us)

Two friends whose children
Have become
The friends of ours

Two friends who’ve walked
Our joys and trials
As we’ve walked theirs

Two friends with whom
We can relax
And simply be

Seemed an obvious follow-up to the last couple of days’ poems. That’s not us in the photo though, surprisingly I’ve virtually no photos of just the four (or eight) of us. Thanks J&B!
(16.02.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Devin Avery on Unsplash

Poem 427 – ‘Days’ Revisited…

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Eleven thousand,
One hundred and thirty seven,
Spent married to you.

Who’s counting? I am.
Each matters, every one a
Choice made together.

From the heady start,
Somersaulting down the aisle,
When Ben married ‘Ken’.

The joy of shared walks,
Exploring each other’s hands,
And ways of thinking.

To expanding love,
The miracle of childbirth,
And growing as one.

Enduring Ofsted,
Learning how you like your tea,
Shared viva anger.

Funding the future,
Investing all my eggs in
One basket with you.

Every day matters,
From mundane daily chores to
Ecstatic highlights.

Eleven thousand,
One hundred and thirty seven,
Spent in loving you.

Ok, so yesterday’s hastily scrawled haiku didn’t convey the feeling behind it (the time was better spent doing that in person than absorbed on the mobile writing!) Hopefully this conveys some of that. And yes, our vicar did try and marry Ben and Ken, his embarrassment a cause for great delight for the rest of us!
(15.02.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 419 – Eyes

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I have two eyes.
They’re the only eyes
I’ve ever had.

My eyes are hazel.
My eyes are white,
My eyes are male,
And middle class.

I wonder what
I’d look like with
Two different ones?

I wonder how
I’d see the world
And how the world
would see me if

My eyes were black,
My eyes were gay
My eyes were female
My eyes were rich
Or working class?

I have two eyes.
They’re the only eyes
I’ve ever had
I must remember
That they come
In different types
And mine are mine alone.

It’s been a fascinating day spent with people of a whole range of cultures and backgrounds.
(07.02.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by v2osk on Unsplash

Poem 418 – A Smile

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I’m not so sure she actually knew
Just why she smiled, but it didn’t matter.
Her smile said it was okay to continue,
Her smile revealed a connection,
Her smile said she was on my side.
I smiled back and carried on.

Afterwards we sat together over
A cup of tea and cake and talked
About large families and names.
She said she’s good with them, ‘I’m not’
I replied, ‘so tell me yours again.’
She laughed and smiled that smile once more.

Cups drained, ‘It’s time to go’, I said
She waved as she was wheeled away,
Smiling a farewell smile, ‘I’ve got
A large family you know’, she revealed.
It didn’t matter. The smile had told
Me all that I had needed to know.

I met K**** today at a service at our local nursing home. It was a chaotic affair as usual, with folk coming and going, and heckling or simply crying out. I don’t mind that too much, I’ve learnt to look for other clues that tell me that it’s worthwhile.
(06.02.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Lesly Juarez on Unsplash

Poem 412 – Conversation Cafe

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We meet on Friday’s, one o’clock;
foreign faces, different tongues.
Talking with stumbling voices and
a trowel, each time we lay another
brick. Slowly a bridge is built
until at last we finally meet.

One of the highlights of the last year has been our Conversation Cafe at church. Each week we meet a group of Kurdish women, who want to improved their conversational English. We’ve gained as much as they have as we’ve got to know them and their culture.
(31.01.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by LinkedIn Sales Solutions on Unsplash