Science, Technology & Medicine

Poem 705 – Jane Goodall

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You helped us look into their eyes
And see ourselves reflected there,
As kindred spirits, a common gaze
That arcs across the DNA.

And through your long and patient study
We saw the nuance of their lives,
From using tools and forging bonds,
To waging war and playing games.

We learnt with you that we are not
As alone as once we thought we were,
And heard the call to extend our care
To these our long lost sisters, brothers.

I’m saddened to hear of the death of Dame Jane Goodall, such a significant scientist and advocate for the protection of our fellow creatures.
(01.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ryan Al Bishri on Unsplash

Poem 656 – Character Forming

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Cut through time to take a look,
examine me under the microscope,
assess my passage from the start,
the journey taken, years of growth.

Like rings within an ancient tree
revealed in hindsight by the axe,
or brickwork courses growing taller,
each one stacking on the last.

Or painted walls, each layer giving
deeper colour, gaining richness,
our lives mature, as we grow older,
building on their early promise.

Look carefully, see the DNA,
the chemical chains that snake through years,
parental nurture shaping outlook
the constraints of our family tree.

The trail is present from our birth,
outcome foreshadowed from the start,
our final face beneath the first,
foundations shaping who we are.

A combination of decorating and a nostalgic trip through our children’s school records, led me to reflect upon how much of who we become is present in who we were.
(13.08.25)

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Photo by Joel & Jasmin Førestbird on Unsplash

Poem 647 – Modern Laws of Physics

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The contents of the freezer expand to fill all available space, plus some
Packing always takes longer than expected
Weather changes when schools break up
The distance to the service station is a constant
Going into extra time guarantees penalties
Age is inversely proportionate to the number of festival headliners recognised
The youth of today will moan about the youth of tomorrow who will moan about…
Satnavs cannot pronounce Stevenage (Stev-en-age?!)

A variety of ‘laws’ that have come up in conversation this week.
(04.08.25)

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Photo by Thomas T on Unsplash

Poem 633 – Beware the Tech!

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This new fangled technology!
It’s not like back when we were young,
back then we talked to one another,
communicated face to face.
But now? They’re all distracted, dumb,
fixed stares, eyes down, lost in the page,
retreating from community;
the printing press has killed the art
of conversation. If this continues,
who knows the damage there could be!

I get worries about the impact of screen time, but at the same time, I suspect it’s all been said before…
(22.07.25)

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Photo by Paul Hanaoka on Unsplash

Poem 614 – Enough

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It was operation day today.
It is the way of such things
That everybody says it will be
Okay, and everyone acts
Relaxed. But try as one may,
The truth is, worry is natural,
And no one’s at ease or easily
Pleased until the call is made.
But seeing that her smile at the end
Of the day was enough to make
Him smile in return, now that
was enough for me.

A day spent waiting on a call from the hospital.
(03.07.25)

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Photo by Li Lin on Unsplash

Poem 596 – p=mv

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Sir Isaac Newton said momentum equals
an object’s mass times its velocity.
But where is time in that? Experience says
that time can have momentum, that driving force
that urges onwards, ever resolute.
Yesterday’s year becomes tomorrow’s week,
eighteen years a day, with time opposing
speed, becoming faster as I get slower.

We said farewell to a local minister today. It feels as if she’s just arrived, and yet it’s been 18 years. How does that work?
(15.06.25)

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Photo by Ahmad Ossayli on Unsplash

Poem 467 – Enforced Intermission

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For one afternoon
we had no internet.
The world didn’t end,
at least, not in real life.

No doubt the fires raged
on social media as
celebrities were cancelled,
politicians vilified,
and wild views justified.

Football pundits were stilled,
pop-up adverts burst,
and the only cookies crunched
had chocolate chips – no trolls
were fed today, just me.

Maybe Artificial
Intelligence took my place,
an algorithm wore
my face. I’d like to think
you’d spot the difference.

Our telephone
is still not working.
The silence lingers.
Oh what bliss…

Today we swapped broadband providers, and for one wonderful afternoon we were cut off.
(27.03.25)

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Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash

Hear me read today’s poem

Poem 462 – Missing

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All was quiet the first time we walked here –
except for the birds. The birds were singing loudly,
so loudly in fact that their melody hurt our ears.
Later, we learnt they were actually quieter than before, only now, devoid of cars and people,
their melody could actually be heard.

We walked this way again, today, without
the fear of meeting others. This time it was
the cars that shouted, roaring as they passed,
angry, desperate to be moving on.
I could see the birds were screaming but
their tortured song was muffled, faint and lost.

Five years on from the start of the pandemic, Spring is here, and with it the birds’ melodious song – if you can hear it, that is.
(22.03.25)

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Photo by Tyler Jamieson Moulton on Unsplash

Poem 453 – O+

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‘Your blood is precious’
But can I give?

A sharp quick prick on
my outstretched finger.

One bead of blood,
red, thick with life.

All hesitate,
will it descend?

The droplet falls,
a nod is given.

I donated blood today. My haemoglobin test is always borderline, I often fail, and so it’s always a trend moment when I’m tested.
(13.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by LuAnn Hunt on Unsplash