Waiting
Waiting for
Waiting for the
Waiting for the punch
Waiting for the punchline
I’m waiting on an email today that may bring ‘bad’ news or good news.
(17.10.25)
Poem 671 – Beware the Mask
A gothic castle stands alone and distant,
Alluring to friends and strangers seeking fame,
Its silent turrets loom aloof and stark,
Above those players in their chilling game.
Each night the corridors are stalked by death,
Dressed in its cloak and visage drained bone pale,
Inside the traitors mass and roll their dice,
Whilst outside in the woods the banshee wails.
Traitors. Fantastic.
(16.10.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Mike van den Bos on Unsplash
Poem 670 – Longing for Reversal
It seems perverse
that it’s always peace
that’s fragile,
whilst war’s so easily
sustained and waged.
Blessed are the peacemakers
(15.10.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Jonathan Meyer on Unsplash
Poem 669 – Keeping the Tax Man Waiting
Time for tax returns
Too much procrastination
I must learn next time
Says it all…
(14.10.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Martina Carinci on Unsplash
Poem 668 – Brief Encounters
Our eyes meet.
Not across a crowded room
or pulsing dance floor
but in the train window,
falling upon each other’s
reflected against the backdrop
of a quickly changing landscape.
This is, of course, exactly
what we were seeking to
avoid. We flinch confused,
not certain what to do,
before shifting our focus
to gaze upon the verge.
Being English on the train means avoiding human interaction. On Saturday evening I failed despite my best efforts.
(13.10.25)
Poem 667 – Eternal Horizons
Back to the flat country
The land of black peat soil,
eternal horizons and hanging
mist. The womb that bore me.
Of tumbling buildings and ditches.
Of endless skies that leave us
falling into the view.
A dreamscape that still haunts me.
Returned to the Cambridgeshire fens today.
(12.10.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo public domain by Dr Border at English Wikipedia
Poem 666 – Some Song for the Weekend
I woke to an ear-worm wriggling in my mind,
a whisper of a melody, a hint
of background music that nestled into my thoughts.
Its theme persisted in my breakfast dish,
developed in my morning’s meditations,
and found a nest within my walking rhythm.
Having gestated for the day, by evening
it broke free. Born in my unconscious humming
it found life in this evening’s congregation.
Today has been a day spent looking forward to seeing The Divine Comedy at the Barbican. Their new album has been the perfect backing track.
(11.10.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Poem 665 – Moonlighting
Wisecracks, one-liners, knowing looks
Join sassy walks and L.A. flats
Fat kipper ties and shoulder pads
The swelling sound of mellow sax
The fizzing tension between the leads
Temperature’s rising getting hot
Solving cases when all seems lost
With angry flirting on the job
Before Die Hard our action hero
Joined a model for a different tack
Maddie and David return tonight
Our guilty pleasure, Moonlighting’s back
Returning to the 90’s tonight with the discovery that Moonlighting’s available to stream on STV Player.
(10.10.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Poem 664 – The Tree of Life
Opening your cover, I fall
into your leaves, cavort
within your canopy.
Peering from high pages
I penetrate horizons,
unveiling fresh perspectives.
I gasp for breath, my mouth
gapes as I drink them in.
I feel my glossary grin.
Amongst your paragraphs,
I find so many marvels
I’m made drunk and giddy.
In time, I turn to find
your spine, your trunk, that holds
these fruitful words together.
Downwards, I trace its bark,
descend its lines, to delve
the deep, dark earth’s embrace.
Following your fingers,
I find forgotten facts
indexed amongst fine roots.
Young sentences disperse,
spinning sycamore wings.
My entry for the poetry competition held by Hertfordshire Libraries this year to celebrate their 100 anniversary. The competition required submissions that were 100 words long.
(09.10.25)
Poem 663 – The Human Condition
From church to Traitors
Sublime to ridiculous
In just one evening
My evening!
(08.10.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Ode for the Day 