Back on the bike once more,
the sun warming my limbs.
Forgotten rhythms found,
the miles tick by. I live.
I breathe. Back in the zone.
The need to make a delivery gave the perfect excuse to go out for a spin in the sun.
(19.03.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Back on the bike once more,
the sun warming my limbs.
Forgotten rhythms found,
the miles tick by. I live.
I breathe. Back in the zone.
The need to make a delivery gave the perfect excuse to go out for a spin in the sun.
(19.03.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
I didn’t mean to visit the shop
I didn’t mean to go inside
I didn’t mean to check the prices
I didn’t mean to try for size
I didn’t mean to chat to the attendant
I didn’t mean to ask for advice
I didn’t mean to search reviews
I didn’t mean to buy a bike…
Our local bike shop is closing down, and it would have been rude not to. I shall miss them, they’ve been very helpful over the last few years.
(10.03.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Wayne Bishop on Unsplash
Pedalling smoothly, my wheels begin to pur,
a low contented growl from spinning cranks.
My muscles sing. I playfully leap and bound.
I am transposed, at one with my bike, man
and machine conjoined to make the King of the Road.
The sun is out and I needed to make a visit to the local hospital, and so it seemed the perfect chance to take the bike for a spin. It felt good.
(07.03.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Josh Nuttall on Unsplash
Here’s to the underdog,
For taking your chance,
For standing up straight,
And repelling the advance.
For keeping your heads,
Despite losing your teeth,
Miraculous saves,
As the fans start to scream.
Here’s to the underdog,
On overcoming the trial,
And ending on top,
The great Plymouth Argyle!
As a Liverpool fan, it pains me to say it, but hats off to Plymouth today – especially their two new defenders and goalkeeper who were brilliant. I loved the celebrations at every tackle made, it said a lot about the spirit that the new manager has brought to them.
(09.02.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Daniel Norin on Unsplash
The alarm went off this morning.
Outside it was dark, so dark,
I didn’t want to rise,
but had before I knew it.
I left the car at the garage.
Cycling was cold, so cold,
the tide mark rising up
dull chromatography.
The phone rang in the rain.
The call was hard, so hard.
May God’s peace match the puddles
permeating my pockets.
Once home I peeled the layers.
They’re dripping wet, so wet.
The garage rings, it’s ready –
I put them on again…
I had to take our car to the garage first things for it’s annual service. The snow and ice may have gone, but the weather was miserable. I still feel wet. The good news, however, was that there were no issues with the car at all.
(06.01.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Nicola Anderson on Unsplash
I patched, I pumped, I pedalled.
Like Caesar’s veni , vidi , vici, today I triumphed.
(03.12.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by paolo candelo on Unsplash
I always fall into the trap
of thinking that this time it will be
an easy fix. It never is.
Two of them. One on each wheel. One after the other.
(02.12.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Vlad Smolyakov on Unsplash
I should be writing a poem,
But it’s been a busy day,
Dealing with toddlers,
Shifting food,
Discussing the Bible,
Talking to church members,
Now the day’s done, and
Liverpool are beating Madrid,
So this will have to do.
Hopefully that’s game, set and match (to mix sports!)
(27.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Jannes Glas on Unsplash
I will fly with the freedom of a soaring bird,
sweeping through the air with grace and speed,
Do somersaults down the high road,
leaping over fences and running along walls.
Jump up and down like an excited child
unable to contain their glee.
Touch my toes with my nose and
curl my torso impossibly tight.
Stand up and sit down because I can
and then do it all over again.
Pick my clothes up from where I dropped them
and hang them in their proper place.
Pretend I’m Usain Bolt and, with cocky confidence,
sprint down corridors and pull his pose.
Lift twenty crates of food with just one hand,
and juggle with them as if they were balls.
Tomorrow, I will do all these things and more,
but today I’m sitting still.
Unfortunately, the back is not so comfortable today, ah well, tomorrow….
(22.11.24)
ONE day left to go,
TWO hours, in truth, give or take,
THREE lines to countdown….
It’s National Poetry Day tomorrow. This year’s theme is Counting. I’d better get this posted before the second line becomes inaccurate!
https://forwardartsfoundation.org/national-poetry-day/
(02.10.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Braden Collum on Unsplash