Today like Moses I parted the sea
Only, it wasn’t water instead waves of grass
And I struck not a staff but shunted a mower
No horses drowned although grasshoppers jumped
and I didn’t reach Canaan just the end of the green
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Poem 528 – Unresolved
A photo taken at high speed,
I find myself a smeared shadow.
Caught in the instant, its movement is
uncertain, full of the tension found
between two possibilities.
This indecisive Schrödinger moment,
leaves its unseen plotlines hanging.
An odd day today. Between things.
(27.05.25)
Poem 519 – The Pride
A lawn of lions,
Their golden manes
Bobbing brightly
Under the Sun.
NoMowMay has produced a beautiful display of dandelions.
(18.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Nikša Leko on Unsplash
Poem 497 – Man vs. Plant
The snaking bramble wraps itself around
the bush, the branches and my arms.
Its tail around my back, it lurches
catching me unawares, and bites.
I spin, it bites again. I twist
and turn, it bites once more. It’s always
faster, darting out of reach.
But I will not be beaten! No!
I persevere and tug and tug,
each pull a victory in perseverance.
Eventually I slump exhausted.
My body bears a thousand wounds,
but all around the bramble lies,
its broken body in submission,
the battle won…
…but not the war.
An afternoon of gardening. I have the scars to prove it.
(26.04.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Stefan Kostić on Unsplash
Poem 431 – Packing
Packing bags
Packing boxes
Packing cars
Packing trucks
Packing tools
Packing kettles
Packing hopes
Packing losses
Packing dreams
Packing memories
Packing fears
Packing love
Packing family
Packing friends
Packing stories
On every box
Our daughter’s moving this week, raising memories of our last move where as a young girl she wrote stories on every box.
(19.02.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Poem 335 – Helpless
In the corner of my eye
the phone flashes
urgently. But why?
Why are they calling?
I can’t answer now,
they know I’m at work.
But why are they calling?
Has something happened?
Is that why they’re
calling? A thousand
permutations present themselves
but I still can’t answer.
I’ll have to get someone
else to answer
while I press on
with the task in hand.
I pretend to work,
time on hold.
I was in the middle of leading a song at church when I spotted my phone was ringing… It turns out there had been an accident at home, but thankfully, all was ok in the end.
(27.10.24)
Poem 277 – Time
Flows through my fingers
I cannot grasp it’s currents
My poem’s unsaid
Ran out of time today….
(30.08.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Jérôme Prax on Unsplash
